Chapter 10 #2
Nell was up early the following morning, already busy in the kitchen as she moved between the sink and the fridge.
There was something about Thanksgiving that still made her feel like a little kid, that excited feeling of being surrounded by people you love. She had always enjoyed it—the family time and the rituals that never changed because they were cemented in tradition.
The kitchen was already warm, the air scented with fresh rosemary and the smell of browned butter.
At some point over the last hour, she had pulled her dark hair in a loose braid to keep it back and out of her face.
She wore her most chaotic apron: navy with gold embroidered lettering that read “KISS THE COOK” in obnoxiously large script, a gift from Nate.
It was gaudy and over-the-top, yet perfect in every way.
She had already prepped two sides and was halfway through chopping carrots with the kind of focus usually reserved for high-stakes negotiations when a voice pulled her attention.
“You’re up early. I thought you weren’t a morning person?” Sarah said, her voice scratchy with sleep, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.
“I am when there are festivities to attend to,” Nell corrected, glancing up and smiling at Sarah, who was still in sleep-rumpled pajamas, her hair piled in a messy bun, clearly having just woken up herself.
“Coffee? One sugar and a splash of almond milk?”
“Yes, please,” Sarah said graciously as she crossed the room to join Nell, leaning one hip against the counter. “So, exactly how many people are coming for Thanksgiving? It looks like there is enough food here for a small army.”
Nell turned, smiling as she slid a mug of fresh coffee across the counter toward Sarah, their fingers brushing briefly. She quickly retracted her hand. The sudden movement caused a look of curiosity from Sarah.
“It’s just the three of us—you, me, and Nate.”
She continued to meticulously chop vegetables, all too aware that Sarah’s gaze was still firmly fixed on her, watching her.
She felt Sarah’s presence grow closer, her body slightly behind her now. The sensation put her nerves on high alert as Sarah’s voice floated softly to her over her shoulder. “You’re kind of cute when you’re being so precise.”
Nell faltered, her knife pausing mid-chop. That look, Nate had said. Haven’t seen you like this since Stephanie.
She shook the thought away, refocusing on the carrots in front of her, wanting desperately to regain some control over this moment.
“Flattery this early, Sarah? Have you forgotten the rules?”
“How could I forget the rules for this weekend when you haven’t given them to me yet?” Sarah’s response was quick, her breath hot against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. Nell knew exactly what Sarah was doing. She was pushing the boundaries to see how far Nell would let her go.
If Sarah wanted to play, Nell would be happy to oblige.
“So your solution to the absence of explicitly stated rules was to create your own?” The words left her lips in a low, intentional purr as she set her knife down and spun on the spot.
Purposeful hands found Sarah’s hips, guiding her backward, pushing her up against the opposite counter.
Palms rested on either side of her, curling around the counter’s edge.
She took pleasure in the look of surprise painted across Sarah’s refined features.
Even leaning against the counter, Sarah was taller than her.
The proximity of their bodies forced her gaze up to meet Sarah’s as her sly smile spread.
“This is what you were after, wasn’t it?” Nell asked slowly, grazing her lips over the delicate skin just below Sarah’s left ear.
Sarah shuddered at the contact, exactly as Nell knew she would. The confirmation made her smile even more.
“You want me so badly right now,” she hissed.
Sarah reached forward to place her hands on Nell’s hips, but Nell stopped her. “Remember, Sarah. Touch only where I put you.”
She took each of Sarah’s hands in hers, marveling at the smoothness of her skin before placing them one by one to grip the edge of the counter.
Desire burned behind heavily lidded hazel eyes. “I remember,” Sarah whispered.
“So you do remember the rules, then.” She let her fingers graze Sarah’s abdomen, dipping under the hem of her pajama top, enjoying how she quickly inhaled when her fingers came to rest on her hip. “And still you broke them. You wanted to test them to see how I’d react, yes?”
Sarah nodded quickly.
“Well then, I’m sorry to disappoint, but that isn’t what I had planned for this weekend.”
She watched Sarah’s eyes squint slightly as she processed her words, searching for any sign of disappointment, but it never came.
“It’s not?” Sarah asked, clearly puzzled by Nell’s refusal.
“No, it’s not.”
She pulled away from Sarah, returning to her abandoned knife and cutting board, suddenly unable to look her in the eye as the truth—the inconvenient truth of it all—washed over her.
In planning this weekend, she had not once thought about having Sarah like that. She had truly simply wanted her here.
Here with her.
That thought made her pause for a moment before she seized the opportunity she had created for herself.
“But,” she hummed as she corrected her tone lower, “come with me to Las Vegas in two weeks, and I promise I’ll make it more than worth your while.”
Sarah slid onto the stool across from her. To Nell’s surprise, she was still quiet. She could feel Sarah’s eyes on her as she resumed chopping, but she chanced a glance anyway, hazel eyes immediately catching hers.
“Can I offer an observation?” Sarah asked, over the rim of the coffee mug once again curled in her hands.
She dumped chopped asparagus into a nearby bowl, her hands continuing to busy themselves. “Always so many questions with you.”
“You did peg me as someone who likes clarity. The questions come with the territory.”
“Observe away,” Nell said, reaching for a beet next, peeling it over the trash can.
“Okay, then.” Sarah took a moment to collect the exact words she wanted to say, and Nell couldn’t help but admire how careful she always was with her words. “You’re someone who has very firm boundaries and expectations of the people around you.”
Nell nodded in agreement, running the blade of the peeler methodically over the tough beet skin.
“But how do you expect people to know what they are when you’re not clear about them?”
The peeler slowed enough for her to be sure Sarah would notice the impact of her question.
“That’s fair,” Nell said, setting the beet down and wiping her hands, but she didn’t say anything else.
Sarah took advantage of her silence. “I’m following your lead here, and when we first started this”—she gestured her hands between them—“everything felt clear, but recently it feels like you’re not quite sure where you’re leading me, and I want to make sure we’re still on the same page.”
Nell fixed her eyes on a spot on the expansive granite countertop as Sarah’s words bounced around her mind.
There had been a shift since she had so confidently entered into this arrangement with Sarah.
She’d thought she had done every calculation to understand the landscape of her decisions, but she hadn’t accounted for how being around Sarah would make her feel.
How could someone calculate and plan for something they had never experienced before?
She rarely made miscalculations when it came to these kinds of things, yet here she was, wading deeper into a mess of her own creation.
“You told me that I have a voice and to use it with you. Consider this me following rule number one. I’m game for whatever this is, Nell.
Whatever you want from me, whatever rules you have, I’m in,” Sarah said.
“However, I need a little more clarity up-front as to what I’m walking into when we see each other, because I can’t keep guessing every time.
I’m too much of a perfectionist to keep guessing wrong. ”
Nell let a long pause pass before she answered.
“You’re right,” she said. “I haven’t been as clear as I could be with you. Starting now, however, consider clarity of the utmost importance. My intention for this weekend was to spend time with you. Think of it as a Thanksgiving for misfits—you, me, and Nate.”
“I think you mean chosen family,” Sarah said, that intoxicating smile pulling at her lips.
Family. That word felt foreign to her.
“I find,” Nell continued, “that I like being around you outside of the arrangement I proposed. I understand you, and you understand me in ways very few people have. I can see now where I could have communicated that to you better.”
There. Clear and easy. But still, hearing herself say those words out loud, admitting that she liked spending time with Sarah beyond their arrangement, sent a shiver down her spine.
Sarah’s smile deepened. “Okay. That’s a start. Now, I’m going to go shower, and then you’re going to let me help you with all of this.” She gestured to the remaining pile of food surrounding Nell that still needed to be prepared before disappearing down the hall.
Sarah returned almost an hour later, smelling faintly of vanilla, her hair falling in loose waves that framed her freckled face.
Nell had been afraid that there might be some lingering awkwardness following their earlier discussion, but if it was there, neither acknowledged it.
Instead, they slid smoothly back into conversation.
“Sorry that took a little longer than expected. Lily called to say happy Thanksgiving, and we got caught up talking about their plans for the rest of the week. Beth and Jamie took the girls to Palm Springs, and apparently, the house they are staying in is seriously cool—Lily’s words, not mine.
” Sarah looked at the last of the food on the counter before looking back at her. “How can I help?”