Happily Ever All-Star: A Secret Baby Romance - Sosie Frost Page 0,40

We’re in the middle of dinner.”

“And you’re one rose short of an episode of the Bachelorette, Regan. Don’t go poking around or you’ll just end up with a handful of thorns.”

“Honestly, mother.”

“How many men do you think that child needs? Lord have mercy, we’re gonna end up sawing her in half like in Solomon’s Court.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Is the electric turkey carver still on the counter?” Mildred asked. “No. You sit down. I’ll grab it.”

“What in the world—”

“Mom…” I tightened my grip on Jude’s hand. He took the hint. If I bolted, he’d drag me back. “Do you realize I came here with Jude?”

“Jude is always welcome here,” Regan said. “Eric, can I interest you in another roll?”

Eric practically snorted smoke. “Oh, we’re about to roll, let me fucking tell you.”

“No, Mom.” I clenched my teeth. “I came here with Jude.”

The table quieted. Regan tilted her head. Her full lips shriveled into a single point.

“Oh.”

A chill flooded the table. The turkey might have turned to ash and the rolls rocks, but at least the lie was out in the open. Rick toasted Jude with his wine. No hard feelings.

Too bad my step-brother wasn’t nearly as refined.

Or tactful.

Or patient.

His smile faded. His best friend was already in danger by virtue of supposedly dating his little sister, but the bomb was about to drop, and Jude hadn’t packed a helmet to survive this siege.

I hopped from the table too late. “Eric, can I talk to you?”

My step-brother slammed his hand against his plate.

Wine spilled. Potatoes splattered into the wall. Mildred ducked before a green bean flicked into her face.

The turkey wasn’t the only thing about to get plucked.

Eric seethed at Jude. “It was you…”

“Eric, wait!”

Too slow. My step-brother raged. His plate spun through the air like a Frisbee, shattering against the chandelier.

Regan leapt to her feet. “Eric Eugene Kellen, you sit down this instant.”

Only a mother could scold a defensive end, but Eric’s fury was beyond anything short of a restraining order.

Jude surrendered with his hands up, his voice calm. “Just listen, man. Don’t get mad.”

“Don’t get mad?”

“Eric, stop.” I took a step closer. “You don’t understand.”

“Oh, I understand. Believe me. I get it.” He pointed at Jude. “You’re a dead man.”

Mildred scooped another helping of mashed potatoes onto Rick’s plate. “No fighting at the table. At least, not before dessert.”

“What is all of this about?” Regan would never raise her voice, but her eyebrow twitched a little too quick. “Aurora, explain this.”

“Maybe we should finish dinner first?” I asked.

No dice.

Eric launched at Jude. Both men crashed into the dining room table.

Had the turkey flown that quick before it hit the oven, it might have stood a fighting chance.

“Stop it!” I shouted. “What are you doing?”

Jude was smaller than Eric, but he was quicker. He dodged the blow, took a detour through the green beans, and rolled away by veering across the casserole. The candles overturned, but Grandma Mildred was quick on the mark, snuffing out the fire with a ladle of gravy.

Yams.

Yams everywhere.

I ducked to avoid a flying serving spoon. Eric’s punch imbedded his fist squarely in the turkey’s stuffing. Instead of rolling away, he doubled down, delivering the bird a rather unfortunate prostate exam. He swung his arm up, and the turkey came with it.

Fourteen pounds of impaled poultry quivered on Eric’s fist as he lunged for Jude.

Jude dodged, but the gobbler still pecked him in the jaw. Fortunately, Regan’s renowned juicy breasts absorbed most of the impact.

Eric tore the carcass to shreds Mad Max style. Rick dove over the table to prevent a ribcage from striking Grandma Mildred.

If he were only fifty years older, that rescue would have gotten him so lucky.

Jude escaped from the table but stayed low, tensed for a fight. His hair dripped with cranberry sauce, and a stalk of asparagus poked from his pocket.

Eric had face-planted in the butter, but he spat most of it out. “I can’t believe you’d betray her like this.”

“Eric—that’s why we’re here,” Jude said. “We wanted to tell everyone.”

“I can’t believe you’d hurt her like this!”

I rushed between them. “Stop it. He hasn’t hurt me. We’re together, Eric.”

Mildred scraped some butter off of Eric’s arm and shook her head. “Let them go, Rory. Boys will be boys.” She grinned at Rick. “Does this mean you’re free tonight?”

Regan was a tall woman, fierce and proud, but even she was nothing next to a six-foot-six defensive end. However, she took ahold of her son’s ear, forced him into his chair, and