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Grams pulled turkey number two out of the oven. “Take it to the sideboard, Emily. We’re about done here, or we will be as soon as your uncle carves this bird. Are Billy and Jake coming?”
Walking in with his brother, Tanner took the turkey from her. “Here, I got it, Grandma.”
“Yeah, they’ll be by later.” Emily looked back over her shoulder as she left the kitchen.
“Who’s Jake?”
Tanner and Kellan turned to her, both speaking at once.
“Billy’s brother.”
“Her boyfriend.”
Okayyy.
Arien was seated between them at dinner, Kellan on her left and Tanner to her right. They didn’t say grace or anything like that, but once Grams poured each of them a glass of spiked apple cider—well, except for her mom, even she and Emily got one—her stepfather stood.
Matthew cleared his throat. “Y’all know, nothin’ means more to me than our family.” Looking at her mother, his feelings written on his face, he said, “Thank you, Jennifer, for our new baby and for bringing beautiful Arien to us. Never thought I’d be lucky enough to be a dad again. But most of all, thank you for loving me like you do.”
Tanner squeezed her hand beneath the table.
Kellan’s fingers skimmed along her thigh.
Matthew’s attention turned to his sons. “We have been favored. There is much to be thankful for.”
Glasses went up.
Arien tasted the wine-infused cider. Kellan drained his in one swallow. He leaned over, his voice whispering low in her ear, “Drink up now. I think you’re gonna need it.”
He might be right about that.
She was stuffed, and judging by the looks of them, so was everyone else. Sprawled on rich, warm leather in front of the fire, the football game was on, yet no one seemed to be watching it. A knock at the door came. Emily jumped up, chestnut hair flowing behind her as she ran from the room to answer it.
Grams chuckled. “Gee, I wonder who that could be?”
Arien’s stepcousin returned, a man on each arm. One of them appeared to be about their age and the other somewhat older—early to mid-twenties, maybe. Holy moly. Both had long black hair, thick and straight, down to their chests. Chiseled jawlines. Dark, almond eyes.
Emily took them to meet Jennifer first, who suddenly looked like she was ready to toss her cookies again. Her fingers fidgeting, the older one patted her shoulder, while Matthew stroked her hair. Speaking softly, Arien couldn’t make out what they were saying.
“Here we go.” Kellan moved her down to the end of the sofa with him and threw an arm around her. “Gonna wish you took that second glass of cider when I offered it.”
Tanner’s gaze snapped to his brother, and fingers plowing through his hair, he scooted over as Emily and her arm candy came toward them.
“This is my cousin, Arien.”
“Hi. Billy Gantry.” Shaking her hand, the younger one nodded to the man on the other side of him. “And my brother…”
“Jake.” He tipped his chin, his gaze traveling between her and her stepbrothers. “Pleasure to meet you, Arien.”
The trio took the space they’d made for them, Emily sandwiched between the two. Interspersed with shouts at the football players on TV, the men in the room debated the merits of going for a winter breeding this year. Good grief. Billy sat there, talking and playing with Emily’s hair. He’d stop to kiss her neck, while his brother held her hand. Leaning against him, her cousin kissed Jake on the cheek. He simply smiled, interlacing their fingers.
Shifting herself closer to Kellan’s ear, Arien asked, jokingly, “Which one’s her boyfriend again?”
He licked his lips, fingers pressing into her nape, but he didn’t answer.
She didn’t want to be rude, but she couldn’t keep from watching them. Their behavior just struck her as so peculiar. But what did she know? Maybe Emily held Jake in high regard, is all. It was possible. Reasoning with herself, she considered it the most likely explanation. Billy didn’t seem to mind his girlfriend’s obvious affection for his brother, and it’s not like Jake was encouraging her. He did appear to like it, though.
At halftime, Emily extricated herself from the Gantry brothers, and ruffling Tanner’s hair, squeezed in between them. “Happy birthday, Cuzzy.”
