Make Me Yours (Bellamy Creek #2) - Melanie Harlow Page 0,31
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