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Preston snorted. I gave him my best stink eye. “I mean it, Gossip Girl. Not a word to Duncan. Or you know… Alamo.”
Preston looked at me with panic in his eyes, nodding. “Not a word. Got it.”
My dad muttered, scraping up the last of the whipped cream from his plate. “One of these days, you all are going to realize you’re grown-ass adults and tell me what these one-word threats mean. The suspense is torture.”
We all laughed and Hunter picked up the remote to turn the TV back on for the evening football game, sensing the soul-searching conversation was over.
“No, no. We’re on dish duty.” My dad indicated to me, Spencer and Hunter, heaving himself out of his chair. “It’s the least we can do after these three worked so hard to cook this meal for us.”
“But I put the butter on the butter dish,” Spencer whined, uncurling himself from the recliner he was lounging in all the same.
“How the hell do you feed yourself on a regular basis if that’s your idea of cooking,” Hunter said, giving him a little shove toward the kitchen, causing Spencer to shove him back.
After getting up to join in on the cleanup, I placed a kiss on Charlotte’s hairline. “Don’t move. I’ll be back before you know it.”
Charlotte smiled up at me. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter
Twenty-Five
Charlotte
Thanksgiving had never been what I considered a groundbreaking holiday. Honestly, if I thought about it too long, it was sort of gross, given what happened between the settlers and Native Americans outside of that one day. But what I found this year at that Brandt family meal—for myself, and for Hayden and me—was something I couldn’t ignore.
My parents and I talked a few times after Thanksgiving. I didn’t want to get their hopes up, as I had no idea Paula would go for our community-run store idea or how the timing would line up. I just encouraged them to keep news of the sale quiet, given the holiday shopping season. They asked questions about my internship each time we spoke, but never mentioned what would happen next. Things were progressing, but change doesn’t happen overnight.
When we weren’t at our day jobs, Hayden and I could be found side by side, working on our different proposals. Whether we were on the couch or sitting at the kitchen island, there was a feeling of rightness each time I looked up from my laptop screen to find Hayden looking at me, a content smile on his face. We found we needed to set benchmarks we had to reach each night before we could enjoy each other physically, though I’d be lying if I didn’t admit those benchmarks felt fairly fluid some of those nights. The promise of orgasms and time spent laying in Hayden’s arms were quite the motivator, it turned out. I felt more prepared for my meeting with Paula than ever before.
I shut my laptop with a satisfying click, leaning back into the couch cushions and looked over at Hayden’s handsome face, washed in the blue light from his screen. His brow was furrowed, his lips moving as he read over his words. Delivery from District Taco was on its way. We made a deal we would work until dinner arrived, and then we’d spend the rest of the evening relaxing. Duncan was currently in DC for a few days before he had to return to Europe for the rest of the year, so Hayden’s meeting lined up with mine. This was probably for the best for our mutual focus benefits.
“I can feel you looking at me, Char. I have”—Hayden peaked at this phone—“ten more minutes until the food gets here.”
“I know, I know. Just enjoying the view a bit, okay? Is that a crime?”
He looked over at me with an indulgent smile. “I like looking at you too, babe. I plan to look at all of you, just after I crush a burrito bowl.”
“Mmm, post-bean sexy times. Very appealing.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “I left the beans off this time. You’re in for a treat. Now, give me my nine more minutes, please.”
I giggled, picking up my phone, granting his request. I had texts from Austin and Blaire wishing me luck at my meeting tomorrow, which I answered, promising them each a phone call as soon as I knew something.
I thumbed through social media, which at this point was mostly a mixture of people from high school interspersed with accounts for independent bookstores across the country. I looked at all the events and specials different stores were hosting in December, tucking away anything extra special that stood out.
Hayden’s phone vibrated. “That’s the delivery driver. They just buzzed into the building. Food will be up in a minute.”
“I’ll grab plates and drinks. Beer for you?”
“Yes, please.”
I walked into the kitchen, grabbing what we would need for dinner. Hayden stood from the couch and stretched, groaning, his shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of toned abs above his waistband.
“Keep on table setting over there, missy,” Hayden teased, catching me ogling him. “Dinner first. I believe you made that rule, Miss Hangry Pants.”
“Stupid rule,” I muttered, returning to the fridge to grab a beer for each of us just as there was a knock on the door.
Hayden met the delivery person and brought the bag into the space, wafting delicious scents of our Mexican food feast. I heard my stomach growl.
