“The usual. You know, I make a turkey, and we order sides from Regina’s. I placed the order a while ago. Then you eat so much dessert that you’re rubbing your stomach for the rest of the night. Why?”
He patted his belly. “Well, I fully intend on keeping up with tradition in that respect, but I was wondering if we had extra room at our table this year?”
I arched my brow. “For who?”
“For Jace and his dad. This is their first Thanksgiving without Faye. Neither of them can cook anything but pancakes. I asked him where they were eating, and he said he was planning on taking his dad to a restaurant. I thought it might be nice if they could have a homecooked meal with us—or at least a homecooked turkey.”
My mind began to whirl. I’d been looking forward to a low-key day of eating my feelings without any added stress. But how could I say no when I knew how difficult this holiday would be for Phil and Jace? Thinking about that brought back memories of my first Thanksgiving without our parents. Nathan had tried to cook a turkey for us and burned it. I’d broken down in tears, and we ended up having McDonald’s because it was the furthest thing from Thanksgiving food. That turned out to be what we both needed—to just forget the holidays altogether that first year.
I didn’t have the heart to say no. “I suppose it would be okay if they joined us.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well, obviously you know it’s going to make me a little uncomfortable, but not enough to say no.”
Nathan’s mouth curved into a smile. “You’re the best. Thank you.”
“I won’t even have to order more food from Regina’s. We just won’t have a week of leftovers like normal.”
“You didn’t invite Niles, did you?”
“He’s having the main meal with his parents. They invited us to their house, but I knew you wouldn’t want to go. He’ll come by after dinner for dessert.”
“I guess I can deal with that.”
I smiled and suppressed a sigh. Now I’d just have to deal with this unsettled feeling in my stomach until Thanksgiving was over.
• • •
In the early afternoon on Thanksgiving Day, the doorbell rang. Showtime. I’d have to get my act together and keep it together for approximately three hours, maybe more.
When I opened the door, Jace and his dad were standing behind a gigantic bouquet of yellow and orange flowers.
“Wow. You didn’t have to do that,” I said, taking the arrangement from Jace.
He slipped his hands in his pockets. “Well, I had nothing to offer in the potluck department, so I figured flowers were safe.”
Intentionally avoiding looking Jace in the eyes, I hugged Phil before going to the kitchen to put the flowers in water.
Once I returned, I got my first good look at Jace. He wore a muscle-hugging, brown sweater rolled at his sleeves and smelled like musk and leather. His cologne brought back a plethora of memories, causing my body to come alive in an unwanted way. I willed my damn hormones to calm themselves.
Phil wandered the house a bit and peeked into the small dining room before making his way to the table. “Cute little setup you have here.”
I smiled. “Thankfully it’s just the four of us. I don’t think we could fit many more people at our table.”
His eyes looked glassy, as if he might cry. “I can’t thank you enough for having us. I couldn’t bear to be in our house. My wife always invited friends over and made a big to-do about this holiday. Today…the silence was deafening.”
It was hard to know the right thing to say. “I’m sure she’s with you in spirit. I always feel my parents with us during the holidays, even though they’re not physically here.”
He nodded. “You certainly do know what we’re going through, don’t you? So many people pretend to understand loss, but if you’ve never lost someone who was your entire world, you really don’t.”
Don’t I know it. I flashed a sympathetic smile.
Jace and Nathan walked into the dining room.
“Put my son to work, Farrah,” Phil told me.
“Actually, there’s not much to do. I’m only making the turkey and gravy. All the fixings are coming from Regina’s.”
“Well, I’m sure Jace will be happy to taste-test your gravy.” Phil smirked.
“I hear the senior center is putting on a free lunch today. Maybe I should drop you off?” Jace cracked.
We all laughed. At least having Phil here broke the ice somewhat.
Feeling flushed, I went toward the kitchen. “I made some appetizers. Let me grab them.”
About a minute later, Jace’s deep voice caused me to jump. “Can I help?”
When I turned, he was way too close for comfort. God, he looks so good.
“No. Thank you.”
Moving past him, I carried out a cheeseball covered in slivered almonds and a plate of raw vegetables and dip. I set them on the coffee table in the living room.
“It wouldn’t be a holiday without my sister’s cheeseball,” Nathan said as he reached for a cracker.
“Well, I love cheeseballs.” I smiled. “After all, I’ve lived with one all my life.”
Jace joined his dad on the sofa.
I turned to Phil. “Can I get you something to drink? We don’t keep alcohol in the house, but I have pretty much everything else. Soda, seltzer, sparkling cider?”
“I’d love a sparkling cider,” he said.
“We get wild in this house with the sparkling cider, thanks to me,” Nathan said.
Jace shrugged. “It’s fine.”
I returned to the kitchen to pour Phil’s drink.
When I returned, I checked the time on my phone. “I actually need to pick up the side dishes from Regina’s. I timed it so the turkey would be ready by the time I got back.”
Jace jumped up from the couch. “I’ll drive—help you carry everything.”
What am I supposed to say…no?
I shrugged. “Sure, if you want to.”
Jace tossed his keys into the air. “Nathan, take care of the old man while I’m gone, will ya?”
Phil lifted his glass. “I plan to get inebriated on this stuff.”
Jace and I walked out together. He disarmed his truck, and the moment I stepped inside, déjà vu set in—the smell of his cologne, the leather against my back, his closeness as he sat next to me. The only thing missing was the hint of cigar. This wasn’t the same truck from three years ago, but it might as well have been. It seemed like just yesterday when I’d been a lovesick twenty-one-year-old, lusting after my brother’s twenty-seven-year-old friend. Now I was twenty-four, trying with everything in me to fight the same feelings of lust for the same man, who was now thirty. It seemed the only thing that had changed was our ages.
“Put your seatbelt on. How many times do I have to tell you?” He winked.
“I’m a little distracted by the memories of being in your truck.”
“Most of them good, I hope.” In a seductive tone, he added, “I know we had some good times in my old truck.”
“All except for one.”
“Yeah,” he whispered.