He doesn’t look convinced, but then my dad was a cop for a lot of years. He knows how to read people.
I take a deep breath and try to lower my blood pressure. Instead of thinking about my argument with Kara, I focus on how cozy my parents’ home is. The enticing scent of roasted turkey and sage waft through the house, and football plays on the TV in the other room. Mom has set the dining table with the good china, the white plates with the blue trim that only come out twice a year, and the crystal glasses catch the gray afternoon light from the windows.
The kitchen is the heart of the house, big and open with butcher block counters, a farmhouse sink, and a six-burner stove that my mom treats like a sacred altar. Right now, every surface is covered in food. The turkey is resting on the counter under a foil tent. There are sweet potatoes with marshmallows browningin the oven, green bean casserole, homemade cranberry sauce, and three pies cooling on a rack by the window.
When Dad leaves the kitchen to greet the other holiday guests, I stay a little longer to earn points with Kara, but then go in search of my brother. Watching Kara perform for my mom is getting on my nerves. Plus, I’m listening for the doorbell. I want to be there to greet Jude when he arrives, since he doesn’t really know anyone but me.
I find Dad in the living room by the fireplace, deep in conversation with Connor Walsh. Connor and his wife Dana are pack, and I’ve known them my whole life. Connor grew up with my dad. They played football together in high school. Connor is a big, barrel-chested guy with a booming laugh and a beard that’s gone mostly gray.
Dana is petite and quick-witted, the kind of woman who can tease you with a smile so warm you don’t realize she’s gotten the better of you until later. Their kids, Thomas, six, and Lilly, eight, are chasing each other around the couch while my dad pretends to scold them but is clearly enjoying the chaos. Both my parents are dying for grandkids.
Jack is leaning against the dining room doorway, nursing a beer. He nods at me when I walk up. “Happy Thanksgiving, bro.”
“Same to you.” I smile.
“Everything good with you and Kara?” His gaze is intent.
My face warms. “Yeah, why do you ask?”
“She didn’t look too happy when she walked in.” He chuckles. “Is she busting your balls about not proposing to her yet?”
“No.” My smile feels stiff. “We’re doing great.” The very thought of proposing to Kara right now gives me a stomach ache.
He holds up one hand. “Okay, never mind. It’s none of my business.”
“You need to get a girlfriend so I can pick on you for a change.”
He sighs. “I’m working on it.”
The doorbell rings and my pulse jumps. I head for the door before anyone else can. I tell myself I’m hurrying to the door for Jude’s sake, but the truth is, I feel oddly needy myself. Even though I just saw Jude at home earlier today, I’m craving his company. I think Kara really has me rattled.
Jude is standing on the porch in a dark jacket, white shirt, and jeans. His blond hair is neatly combed and he’s freshly shaved. He’s holding a bottle of red wine, his smile tentative. “Against my better judgement, I’m here.”
“Oh, stop.” I open the door wider. “Get in here. It’s freezing.”
He steps inside, his blue eyes scan the entryway. There’s a coatrack overflowing with jackets, family photos lining the hallway. He flinches as the sound of kids shrieking comes from the living room.
“Are there wild animals loose?” he jokes, rubbing the back of his neck.
“That’s Connor and Dana’s kids. I think I told you about them.”
“Oh, yeah, you did.” He smiles nervously. “Smells incredible in here.”
“It’ll taste even better than it smells. My mom is a fantastic cook.” I squeeze his shoulder, and his muscles are like corded rope beneath my palm. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
Mom appears from the kitchen, as if sensing Jude’s arrival, wiping her hands on her apron. She takes one look at Jude and her face breaks into a wide smile.
“You must be Jude.” She hugs him warmly and he, thankfully, just goes with it. “I’m so happy you could join us today.”
Jude straightens, his smile almost shy. “Thank you for having me, Mrs. Martinez.”
Mom laughs. “Oh, honey, call me Viv. Mrs. Martinez makes me sound like sparkling cider or something.”
He laughs and holds out the wine he brought. “I hope you like this brand.”
Mom smirks. “If it’s red wine, Marco and I will enjoy it.” She takes the bottle and examines the label approvingly. “Oh, this is the good stuff. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.” He grimaces. “I appreciate the invitation, especially since you don’t even know me.”
