Chapter 7
SEVEN
cole
My eyes about popped out of my head as she came down the stairs.
Her hair was all tucked up into some kind of nest on the top of her head, with loose strands falling around her face.
Like a ballerina fresh from a hurricane.
Her shoulders were bare, and her eyes captivated mine with the secret we shared.
Her full lips were colored scarlet again, and those boots—those boots should have been illegal.
I felt tongue-tied as I greeted her, and I’m pretty sure everyone noticed the way I couldn’t stop staring.
Just friends, I reminded myself as she gave me a hug and I inhaled the scent of her perfume.
Just friends, I reminded myself as I sipped bourbon and mentally undressed her in the living room over hors d’oeuvres.
Just friends, I reminded myself as Mariah excitedly showed us to our places at the table and I discovered Cheyenne would be seated right next to me.
Everyone sat down in the dining room, and Cheyenne poured wine for those who wanted it.
Griffin carried the platter of turkey to the table, which was already laden with vegetables, rolls, sauces, and condiments.
Mrs. Dempsey removed her apron and dimmed the overhead lights.
Candles in tall holders flickered on the table.
“This looks incredible, Darlene,” said my mother from one end of the table. “Thank you so much for having us.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Dempsey said, taking her seat at the opposite end. “Thank you so much for coming. There’s nothing like a traditional holiday meal with family and friends so dear they feel like family.”
“Well said.” Griffin reached for the turkey. “Let’s eat.”
“Wait a minute. Shouldn’t we all say what we’re thankful for?” Mariah suggested.
“Sure, honey.” Darlene beamed at her. “That’s a wonderful idea. Let’s hold hands.”
Across from me, I heard Griffin grumble, but he put down the serving fork and joined hands with Blair to his right and my mom to his left.
I reached for my mother’s hand on one side and Cheyenne’s on the other, a jolt of electricity flowing up my arm when I felt her palm against mine.
It was her right hand. Was that the one she used to—
“You start, dear,” said Darlene to Mariah.
“Okay,” my daughter said. “I am grateful that I get to be a junior bridesmaid in Uncle Griffin and Aunt Blair’s wedding.”
“We’re grateful for that too,” said Blair, smiling across the table.
“Your turn, Miss Cheyenne,” Mariah said.
“I’m grateful for . . . good friends.” Cheyenne glanced at me, and I wondered if she was thinking about what good friends we’d become last night.
It was my turn next. I cleared my throat and frantically tried to think of something other than Cheyenne’s hand between her legs.
“I’m grateful for my job,” I blurted, even though I knew it was lame.
But what could I say? The things I truly felt appreciative of right now—Cheyenne’s accidental sext, the rush of her breath in my ear as I imagined her body beneath mine, the fact that somehow this morning I’d woken up a little less lonely than I had the day before—were not things I could announce over roasted Brussels sprouts and sweet potato mash. My job would have to do.
“And we’re grateful you keep us all safe,” said Darlene warmly.
My mother spoke up next. “Well, I already said how thankful I am to be here, but I’ll say it again—it’s just so heartwarming to know that our families have been here for each other, through good times and bad, for so many years now.”
“I’ll second that,” Darlene crowed. “It has been a long time, hasn’t it?”
“Twenty-seven years,” my mom said. “We moved right before Cole started kindergarten.”
“That’s right.” Darlene shook her head, her eyes misting over.
“I’ll never forget that first day. Griffin and Cole were so cute with their crisp new jeans and little superhero lunch boxes.
Inseparable from the start. And you’re so right—we’ve all seen each other through many wonderful occasions and some sad ones.
But we’re still here together, and that’s what counts. That’s loyalty.”
“Are we ever going to eat?” Griffin said, eyeing the turkey again.
Darlene clucked her tongue. “Patience, please. It’s your turn.”
“I’m grateful only one more person has to speak after me,” Griffin announced, “because I’m hungry and the food looks amazing.”
“Booooo,” Blair scolded, elbowing him in the ribs. “I’ll speak for both of us and say that we could not be more thankful for everyone around this table, and we’re so happy you’ll all be there in two weeks when we tie the knot.”
“Cheers to that!” my mother said, letting go of my hand to pick up her wine glass. “There’s nothing like a wedding to remind us all of the importance of love, commitment, and family!”
“You’re absolutely right, Barb.” Darlene lifted her wine glass too. “To love, commitment, and starting a family!”
“That’s not exactly what she said, Ma,” Cheyenne muttered under her breath, but I was probably the only one who could hear over the chorus of cheers and clinking glasses.
After everyone took a drink and began reaching for serving dishes, she and I exchanged a look and another inside joke of a smile.
Mothers, she mouthed.
Motherfucker, I mouthed back.
She laughed, tipping her head back like she’d done last night, and I wished more than anything that I could take her hand again. Kiss the back of it. Hold it on my lap under the table.
But I couldn’t.
Just friends, I told myself again. You are just friends because you like being single.
But I was beginning to like her more.
After coffee and dessert, Griffin and I moved into the den with after-dinner drinks to watch football, while Mariah, Blair, and Cheyenne stayed at the table and chattered nonstop about the wedding.
My mother and Darlene began clearing the dishes, talking about who’d said what at the sewing circle last week, how my older brother Greg and his family were doing since he’d been transferred to Tokyo for a year, and whether the forecast for a lot more snow this week might deter some wedding guests from driving up to Cloverleigh Farms.
From my seat on the couch, I had a perfect view of Cheyenne’s back, and every now and again, she glanced at me over her shoulder.
“I heard you’re looking at buying a house,” Griffin said during a commercial break.
“From Moretti?”
He nodded. “He came in for an oil change yesterday.”
“Yeah. I think it’s time Mariah and I got our own place.”
“I agree. Good for you, man. I don’t know how you’ve been living back at home for so long. I’m here for an hour and I get hives.”
Tearing my eyes off Cheyenne, I took a sip of my bourbon, but when I heard her laugh, I looked again.
She was giggling at something Mariah had said, but she must have felt my eyes on her because she glanced back and gave me that flirty little smile, the one that made me feel like she could read my mind.
“Christ, Cole.” Griffin laughed as he swirled whiskey around in his glass. “Why don’t you ask her out already?”
My pulse tripped. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, it’s pretty obvious there’s something going on between you and Cheyenne.”
“There’s nothing going on.” My lip twitched, as it always did when I told a lie, and I tried to cover it with my glass.
“I’m totally fine with it, whatever you want to do.”
“I don’t want to do anything,” I said, more irritably than necessary, because I was caught in my own deceit. I wasn’t used to hiding things from Griffin, and it felt weird.
“Okay.” Griffin held up his palm. “I’m just making sure you know it’s cool with me, in case you were worried about how I felt.”
“I wasn’t.” Another lie.
Griffin had known me a long time, which meant he probably knew I was full of shit, but it also meant that he knew not to push it. “No worries either way,” he said, turning back to the game.
But the exchange had left a bitter taste in my mouth, and I felt uncomfortable the rest of the night. This is exactly why you should not mess around with your best friend’s sister, I reminded myself. Even with permission, it made things awkward.
Later, we stood waiting in the living room while Darlene went upstairs to get the coats.
When she returned, everyone reached for theirs, myself included.
But rather than put it on, I stood motionless, mesmerized as Cheyenne stretched with her arms over her head, which caused the hem of her dress to rise.
At least another two inches of her thighs appeared. I might have drooled.
Then she sighed, dropping her arms. “You sure you guys can’t stay longer? If you leave, that means it’s time for me to do the dishes.”
“Now?” Mariah asked as she buttoned up her coat. “Can’t you just do them in the morning?”
Cheyenne ruffled her hair. “Nope. Gotta get them done tonight.”
“Don’t you have a dishwasher?”
“We do, but the good dishes—the wedding china, we call it—all have to be done by hand to be sure they don’t break. They’re too old and delicate for the dishwasher.”
Darlene spoke up. “My mother passed them down to me, and I want to make sure they’re in good condition so I can leave them to Cheyenne when she gets married.” Then she crossed herself and closed her eyes, her lips moving in a quick, silent prayer.
Cheyenne ignored her mother and addressed Mariah again. “My brother and I always had to wash and dry the wedding china on holidays before we went to bed. It took forever.”
“I’d stay and help you, sis, but I have to get Blair home. Sorry.” Griffin gave her a grin that said he wasn’t the least bit sorry, and Cheyenne stuck her tongue out at him.
“Cole, why don’t you stay and give Cheyenne a hand?” My mother suggested, wrapping her scarf around her neck.
“That’s a great idea,” Darlene said brightly. Then she sort of bent over and rubbed one hip, her expression agonized. “I’d help her myself but I’ve been on my feet a lot today and the doctor said that isn’t good for my joints.”