Make Me Yours (Bellamy Creek #2) - Melanie Harlow Page 0,32

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