Chapter 2
Gracie
The holidays are always a perfect storm—an open window into how other people live, loving their families and celebrating together. I watch it all while an icy wind whips around me, a constant reminder that my own family will never be like this.
It’s early evening as we walk up to the house, Braxton’s arm hooked around mine, and my phone a heavy, silent weight in my pocket.
“You okay, baby?” he murmurs as we reach the front step. His concern is palpable, but I don’t look at him, not wanting him to realize how badly my parents’ treatment still gets to me.
“I’m fine.” I squeeze his arm. “Not sure I can eat another bite after the feast your mother put on, but I’m good.” I glance up just as he frowns, unconvinced, but the door swings open before he can press me.
“Braxton, Gracie,” Esther greets with a wide, welcoming smile. “I’m so glad the two of you could make it!”
Braxton bounces up the three steps, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Of course we came,” he declares. “Don’t tell my mother, but you make the best pumpkin pie. There’s no way I’d give that up.”
Esther laughs, swatting at his shoulder, turning to me as I come up to Braxton’s side.
She drags me in for a hug before I realize what she’s doing, and I stiffen, fighting the urge to pull away as floral perfume swamps me.
She doesn’t let go straight away, waiting, and something warm settles in me as I finally hug her back.
The same thing happens every time Raewyn, Braxton’s mom, hugs me. The longer I’m with him, the easier the physical affection comes to me, but I’m not sure it’ll ever feel “normal.”
“Thank you for inviting us, Esther.”
She gives me a final squeeze before pulling back, her expression warm.
“Braxton has been inviting himself to these things since he was a kid,” she jokes.
“The invite this year was purely for your benefit. Come in. Everyone else is here, and the food’s almost ready.
” She shoots a narrow-eyed look at my boyfriend.
“Stay away from the pies, or you’ll get a smack with my wooden spoon. ”
Braxton groans dramatically. “You invite me just to get to Gracie, and now you’re threatening me with bodily harm?” He pushes his lip out in a comical pout. “I’m starving. Are you really gonna deprive me of pie?”
Esther shakes her head, unmoved. “You forget that I know the kind of spread your family puts on, so you can take your begging somewhere else.”
I giggle and follow her as she turns and sashays inside, leaving Braxton to close the door. He snags my wrist before I can get too far, dragging me back.
“Why’re you laughing?” he growls playfully. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
I widen my eyes innocently. “I don’t remember agreeing to that.”
His mouth quirks. “It was in the fine print.” His voice lowers to a husky whisper.
“And you already signed on the dotted line.” He presses a hard kiss to my lips.
When I gasp, his tongue pushes into my mouth, sending heat curling through me before I yank away from him.
He’s not put off, burying his face into my neck and nibbling at my skin.
“Maybe we should skip dinner,” he suggests huskily.
“What about your pie?”
“You taste better than any pie.” The memory of our tryst in the kitchen just days ago makes me shiver, and he chuckles wickedly.
“Brax!” Nick calls from the living room. “I know you’re out there. Get your ass in here!”
Braxton freezes, his arms around me and his forehead resting against my shoulder. “Fucking cockblocker,” he mutters.
“We can pick this up later.”
“I’m holding you to that, Rumpel.” Braxton straightens, adjusting his dick in his pants. I roll my lips inward, trying to hide my laughter when he grimaces, but he sees it, shooting me a baleful look.
“This is your fault,” he grumbles.
“You’re not victim-blaming, are you?” I ask. “Because we don’t do that.”
He snorts. “You’re no victim.” Braxton waits until I turn away and then slaps me soundly on the ass, making me yelp.
“Hey!”
He grins devilishly. “Don’t worry,” he assures me coyly. “There’ll be more of that later.” Nick yells for him again, and Braxton rolls his eyes, calling back, “I’m coming. Hold your horses!”
“I know what you’re doing,” Nick replies just as Braxton drags me to the living room. “And you need to stop doing it under my mother’s roof. This is a PG-13 home.”
I quickly smooth my hair down, panicking that they know what we were doing, but Nick and his dad are fully focused on the television.
They glance up briefly, and Joseph mutters a greeting before going back to scowling at the football game on the screen.
“What have they been training for?” he grumbles. “Never seen so much fumbling in my life. Their wives can’t be happy with those kinds of fingers.”
“Dad,” Nick groans. “Don’t get started on the fingers.” He gets up from the couch, coming over to fist-bump Braxton and give me a quick squeeze. “How was lunch at the Newport household?”
Braxton pats his stomach. “Good. Mom always overdoes it, but the leftovers taste just as good.”
I nudge him with my hip. “You just like that you don’t have to cook. Not that you cook anyway.”
Braxton hooks a hand around my neck. “Correction,” he says playfully. “You don’t let me cook.”
“You burn water, so not a surprise,” Nick pipes in. “You remember when you tried to slow-cook that roast a few years ago? You added so much water that it was basically soup.”
Braxton scowls. “What happened to the cone of silence?”
Nick grins. “It expires after two years. Don’t worry, Gracie, I still have loads of stories to share.” He winks at me, and I smile.
My first Thanksgiving with Braxton’s family wasn’t as comfortable, my relationship with him—and them—still too new. Even with the damning silence from my parents, this year feels different. It gives me hope for a future that only becomes clearer the longer I’m with Braxton.
Nick perks up as voices drift to us from the kitchen, followed by a high laugh. “We have a surprise guest, Braxton.”
Braxton wraps an arm around my shoulders, his eyes bouncing between Nick and the TV. “Oh yeah? Who’s that?”
Nick is saved from answering when a woman about my age appears in the doorway.
She’s familiar, her pictures planted all around this house, but even so, the color of her hair immediately gives her away—strawberry blonde, matching Nick and Esther’s.
She’s beautiful, her willowy frame holding the kind of curves I’ve always envied, and her bright smile is fixed on Braxton.
If his arm wasn’t a heavy weight over my shoulders, I might not have noticed the way he tensed, his muscles bunching against the back of my neck. His fingers clench into a tight fist before slowly loosening, and then his arm disappears as he shifts to the side, putting inches between us.
A cold shiver slithers down my spine, but I hide it, my eyes shifting between the two of them.
“Braxton,” she breathes. “It’s been so long.”
He wets his lips, eyes locked on her. “Paisley,” he murmurs. “I didn’t know you were coming home.”
She laughs, the sound tinkling through the room like wind chimes. It’s angelic and grating at the same time. “That’s what makes it a surprise! Come on, now, aren’t you going to give me a hug?”
There’s a stilted pause, like the very room is holding its breath.
And then they move forward at the same time, Braxton sweeping Paisley into a tight hug.
She goes up on her tiptoes, her arms around his neck, giving me the perfect view of her face over his shoulder and the way her expression softens, her eyes falling closed.
I don’t move. Nerves flutter in my stomach, uncertainty fills me, and I am unsure what I should do or say.
Nick steps into my side, his smile easy.
“It’s crazy that you and Brax have been together for over a year, but you’ve never met my sister,” Nick says, nudging me with his shoulder.
“Paisley graduated from high school and immediately went off to college. She was far enough away that coming back was always too expensive…” He shoots his father a look, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially. “Or she was just too busy partying.”
“Oh,” I murmur. “It’s nice that she’s visiting now.”
I can’t drag my eyes away from them, insecurity flaring at how they seem to just fit. Paisley’s cheek is practically pressed to Braxton’s, and a dark premonition fills me, every single instinct I’ve got screaming out in warning.
“Not visiting.” Nick sips at his beer. “She’s moved back. Mom’s thrilled, obviously. She’s the baby of the family.” His smile is affectionate as he looks at his sister. “You know how it is.”
I don’t. But it doesn’t feel like the time to remind Nick about how different my family is from his and Braxton’s.
I clear my throat, trying to dislodge the lump there. “They seem close.” Braxton and Paisley finally pull away from each other. I expect him to turn around and introduce me, acknowledge my existence—something—but he doesn’t.
“I guess.” Nick shrugs. “They haven’t seen each other since she left, but I know they didn’t part on the greatest terms.”
I don’t want to ask, but it slips out anyway. “Why’s that?”
“Teenage drama,” Nick says, but there’s the faintest undercurrent to his voice. “Hey, let me go get you a drink.” He’s gone before I say a word.
As he walks past them, Braxton and Paisley turn to face me, standing shoulder to shoulder. Ice skates through my veins, my mouth dry as I wait for one of them to say something—anything.
“This is my girlfriend. Gracie,” Braxton says.
Paisley steps forward, arms up for a hug. I try to step back, but she’s on me before I can. I go still, not sure what to do. I’m not a hugger, and she’s a stranger—who smells like my boyfriend—but it would be rude to shove her away.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Gracie,” Paisley exclaims, pulling back to give me a pretty smile. “My mother has told me all about you. I didn’t actually expect Braxton to be shacked up, but stranger things have happened.”
My brows dip together at her wording. “Nice to meet you too,” I say, fixing my smile in place. Braxton is standing behind her, a bright smile on his face and his eyes warm with affection. It should make me feel better, but as Paisley steps away from me, his eyes aren’t on me.
They’re following her.