Chapter 8
Chapter eight
“Why did the turkey cross the road on Thanksgiving?” Dante asks Chase, and my brother grins at the cute little guy.
“I don’t know, why?”
“He was pretending to be a chicken so he wouldn’t get gobbled up!
” Dante laughs at the punchline, but it’s impossible not to join in.
The Riley men sit to my right, with my dad next to me, then Uncle Frank and Tommy.
Chase is sitting at the other end of the table next to Cara’s friend Cami.
Cara’s niece and nephew sit between her and Cami, and I lucked out by being able to sit next to Cara for an entire meal—one I plan to do everything I can to make last as long as possible.
When Cara texted me this morning, I’d never been so happy to hear about a broken kitchen appliance.
I called my dad and he brought some extra chairs, and we had the table set up as though it was always meant to be set for nine instead of five all along.
We also would’ve had a very meat focused meal without Cara’s sides, because we had only planned on stuffing and corn, but now, we have an entire feast stretched out on my kitchen island.
It’s been an incredible meal in both the food aspect and the company around the table.
My favorite part, other than having Cara here, has been seeing my dad enjoying himself, and even laughing a few times.
We don’t need to worry about trying to avoid talking about Mom because Dante and Mila are the perfect distraction.
I’m not sure how they’re eating because neither seem to stop talking, but it feels so nice to have them here with us.
And it feels right to have Cara back in my home.
I look to my left and try not to stare for too long, but she’s so damn beautiful. She catches me and gives me a small smile, but I don’t miss the slight pink of her cheeks. Interesting. I’m not out of the game yet.
I get up to grab something from the kitchen and Cara follows me, saying something about checking to make sure the ovens are off, but I wasn’t really paying attention because I couldn’t wait another moment.
Placing one finger to my mouth, signaling her to be quiet, I reach for her with my other hand.
We interlock our fingers, and I give her a slight tug toward the hidden pantry in my kitchen.
She rolls her lips, glances over her shoulder, and then gives me the most beautiful sight—my girl smiles.
Not a cautious smile, her full, radiant smile that I haven’t seen in months.
I pull her into the pantry, which looks like a cabinet door on the outside, but opens to a hidden pantry tucked within the kitchen footprint.
The lights automatically come on in the small room, and I press the button to override the auto shutoff as I pull the door shut and her into my arms, all in one smooth swoop.
I hold her body flush against mine, loving how her soft curves fit against my body like two puzzle pieces that were made to click together perfectly.
I run my other hand up her neck until it’s cradling her head, with my thumb running along her jaw.
Her eyes darken and Cara leans into my hold while sliding her hands up my chest, with one hand going into my hair.
Fuck, I’ve missed how she tugs on my hair.
I lean down and run my nose along her neck. She smells like sugar and happiness. I kiss below her ear as she mutters, “Max. Please.”
“Shhh. I know,” I whisper. I’m not sure how soundproof my hidden pantry is but I don’t really want to test it with Dante, Mila, and my father sitting just around the corner.
I pull back and look into her eyes … that are now glistening with unshed tears.
“It’s okay, Cara.” She nods slightly. I’m sure we both have regrets but now is not the time to unpack all of that.
It’s a brief stolen moment and I want to make it count.
And I really want to kiss her.
Guiding her head to the angle I want her, I lean in and our first kiss in months is soft, gentle, almost reverent.
The emotions being communicated are enough to bring tears to my own eyes.
I run my tongue along her lips and she surrenders, opening for me.
The sweet moment explodes when Cara lifts her leg and hitches it around my body, pulling me close, lining us up to take this much further than we should with family in the next room.
We shouldn’t have sex right now, but that’s not stopping her from rotating her hips to take what she needs—or me from sliding my hand down to her delectable ass and grabbing it firmly.
What we should or shouldn’t do isn’t stopping me from meeting her hips thrust for thrust, all while our kiss deepens and intensifies.
Just because we shouldn’t, doesn’t mean I don’t want to—there are a lot of things I want to do to Cara and being back inside her is definitely at the top of that list. Her moan is borderline too loud, and seconds later, Mila’s squeal of laughter from the other room seems to break the spell as we both slightly laugh at our position up against the shelves in my pantry.
We break apart, pressing our foreheads together, both of us panting and trying to catch our breaths.
“We should probably…” Cara trails off.
“Right. We should get back out there, but this conversation isn’t over, Cara,” I tell her as I kiss her just below her ear—a dirty move because I know that drives her crazy.
“It isn’t? We … we didn’t have a conversation.”
“Exactly. But we will.” I kiss her forehead and lower her leg back down as she straightens her clothes and I open the pantry door, hoping for a clear kitchen.
Of course, my brother Tommy is there, not even hiding his smirk. The little shit just had to be standing in the kitchen. “Well, that’s one way to have a Happy Thanksgiving.”
Cara squeaks behind me as she exits right as Tommy comments, and she turns crimson before sneaking out of the kitchen toward the powder room.
“What? I’m not the one trying to stuff my turkey.
” Tommy cracks up at his own joke and I try to hold back a smile as we go back to the table, hoping our absence wasn’t noticed.
Mila and Dante didn’t say anything, but both Chase and Cami winked—almost coordinated—and I acted like I didn’t see either of them. Not that it stopped Tommy from laughing like Chase had just told the best joke in the world.
Usually, dessert is my favorite part of our Thanksgiving meal, but like everything else in my life, Cara changed that too.
Cara leans over to me and lowers her voice so no one overhears. “So, I know it’s cheesy, but I’m really trying to teach Dante and Mila the importance of being grateful, even when life is tough, so would it be okay if we all went around and said something we’re grateful for today?”
Well shit. So much for avoiding the giant elephant—or turkey—in the room. I nod and assure her of course, and she leans back to explain to the table what she would like to do. My brothers and I share glances, but we can do this.
“I’ll start. I’m grateful for the people at this table, especially Dante and Mila.
Being your aunt is my greatest honor, and I love you both.
” Cara tears up, which causes me to pause—I don’t think I’ve ever seen her cry.
It’s not that she’s stoic, she’s just usually very controlled with her emotions.
She swipes away a rogue tear and waves it away in front of her face like a pesky fly.
“Okay munchkins, what about you? What makes your heart happy? What are you grateful for today?”
“I’m grateful for turkey. So. Much. Turkey!” Dante declares as he stabs another piece and takes a big bite out of it. Cara wasn’t lying—that kid loves his turkey.
“Ha! That’s a wonderful thing to be grateful for, yummy food that helps us be strong and healthy. What about you Mila? What are you thankful for?”
“My turtle nightlight and my purple babydoll.” Mila speaks softly. I know Mila is afraid of the dark, and she has a turtle nightlight that sits on the nightstand between their beds, projecting stars on the ceiling and walls.
“Those are awesome things to be grateful for, baby girl!” Mila preens under Cara’s compliment.
“Thanks, Zia.” I once asked Cara about the Zia nickname and she told me that when Dante was younger, he couldn’t say Auntie Diaz, so he would say Zia and it stuck.
Mila continues, “I’m grateful for Papà too and he makes my heart happy. But sad when he’s gone.” Cara is exceptionally private when it comes to her brother Joe, and I can tell by the panic in her face that she wasn’t expecting Mila to mention him.
“Can she be grateful for him if he isn’t here?” Dante asks Cara as her eyes widen, and she looks at Cami and then me with panic all over her face.
“Of course, buddy,” Cami jumps in. “We can be grateful for people that are right here at this table, or far far away, and even people that we can only carry in our hearts.”
“Like Mommy in heaven?” Mila asks. My dad gives me a look, and I know this is all more than any of us expected to be shared today. I didn’t even know Mila and Dante’s mom was dead.
“Exactly like that. And that’s a great thing to be grateful for, because your mommy loved you very much, and so does your papà.” Cara tries to keep her voice calm, but I can hear the slight waver.
“What makes your heart happy, Cami?” Mila asks and Cara sits back a little in relief at the subject change.
“I’m grateful for new friends that feel like lifelong ones.” She looks up and winks at Cara. “And for new beginnings, and unexpected blessings.”
In a surprising twist, she looks at Chase and smiles—and my brother smiles back at her, quite affectionately in fact.
What the hell? I didn’t think Chase knew Cami before today, but the look they just shared makes me think I’m missing an entire story between the two of them.
“I like that. I’m going to co-sign that I’m grateful for unexpected blessings.” Chase looks around the table. “And I’m grateful for the people at this table, especially my family here today.”
My Uncle Frank nods his head before he speaks.
“I sometimes feel guilty about my role in everything, but I’m extremely thankful for my generous nephew Chase, who saved my life.
” When Uncle Frank needed a kidney transplant, we were relieved to discover my brother Chase was a match—but no one knew that discovery would open Pandora’s box.
This is dangerous territory any day of the week, but especially today, so I’m adding Tommy to my list of gratitude when he jumps in before that sentence can hang for too long in the air. “I’m grateful that I may finally have an adequate opponent for our annual Mario Kart tournament.”
“What annual Mario Kart tournament?” I ask my brother, because apparently, I’m missing all kinds of things today.
“Well, it’ll be annual after today. The flag drops as soon as the dishes are done, and Dante, you’ve talked a big game for such a short stack, and you are going down, my little friend.” Tommy mock glares at him and Dante returns it with gusto.
“Bring it, old man. You’re going to want an ice pack for the burn I’m about to give you but with my tires.” Okay, so we need to work on his trash talk, but I’m not the only person that busts out laughing at his attempt.
“Now that sounds like a great tradition to kick off this year. And I’m going to co-sign what Cami said.
In fact…” My dad clears his throat. “Let’s raise our glasses in a toast, y’all.
I suspect everyone at this table knows that sometimes life is hard, and maybe even painful, but the sun will rise in the morning, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to start again.
To new beginnings, may each and every one of you know the grace of starting over, the joy of being loved, and take the time to give thanks for the blessings in your life. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!”
Everyone raises and clinks their glasses with each other, and Mila gets a little too zealous with her cheers, but gratefully, her glass is only water—well, now half filled with water.
“And what about you, Max? What are you grateful for?” Cara asks as everyone looks for me to take my turn.
“I am grateful for extraordinary people, and—something I never thought I’d say—today, I’m thankful for broken ovens.” I grin at her, and she smiles broadly in return as the rest of the table laughs.
It’s not our usual Thanksgiving, but it might be my favorite one ever, a fact only solidified after dinner when Dante demolishes Tommy in Mario Kart.