Page 67 of Unbreakable Love

She hmphed and rolled her eyes. “Go see the man I caught you making out with?”

“We weren’t making out.” At least, not when she caught us. But memories of making out with Gavin last night kept me warm all through the night and well into this morning.

“Argumentative today, are we? Was it bad?” She leaned and held out her thumb and finger mere inches apart. “Small?”

“Shut up!” I laughed, and for good measure, smacked her again. “Shut up with that or you won’t get any of this food.”

“You’d leave me to starve?” Her eyes widened comically large, and she smacked her hand to her chest. “On Thanksgiving? What kind of sister are you?”

“The kind who’s over your ridiculousness. Come on, plate up, but only if you can leave the sex talk to a minimum.”

“One question.”

“I’m not telling you how big he is,” I muttered, that heat still staining my cheeks. I didn’t know, but man how I’d wondered when I came home last night. I’d barely felt him, but it’d been enough to make me flush all over as I climbed into my bed and pressed my thighs together beneath the sheets.

“Fine, spoilsport. But tell me honestly, one thing.”

Maize’s tone had changed from teasing to serious, and I gave her my full attention. “What?”

“You think if he truly decides he’s done trying not to be attracted to you and gives it a fair shot that he’ll be good to you? You deserve that, you know, for someone to finally start taking care of you.”

Her eyes swam with wetness, and I looked at her. Truly looked at her. Where was this heaviness coming from? “I’m sure, Maize. You okay?”

“Yep.” She nodded once and grabbed a plate. “Thanks for all this cooking. This might be our best Thanksgiving yet.”

“I’m sure it will be.”

I kept an eye on her as she plated her food. Whatever I’d seen in her look was gone, as quickly as it’d arrived, but there was a small pinch of worry in my chest I couldn’t push away until we’d sat down and dove in.

The meal wasn’t much. We’d grown up on macaroni and cheese and store-bought bread for most of our Thanksgiving meals. Sometimes we splurged and added a ham and mayo sandwich. Over the years, as I started working, the meal grew, but Maize was right.

For the two of us, this year, I’d gone all out. I didn’t buy a turkey because I didn’t really like them, but we had a chicken, green beans, stuffing, and salad. I’d bought a pumpkin pie from the grocery store, which was cooling on the counter as well.

Maize had attempted to help me cook, but after twenty minutes of me fearing she would chop her fingernails off, I kicked her out of the kitchen and relegated her to setting the table.

“So you talk to him yet? Today at least?”

“Gavin?” I asked. “No. He’s with his family and they’ve had a hard week. I figure he’ll call when he can.”

“I can hide in the bedroom tonight if you want him to come over.”

“Right. Like you won’t be spying on us. Besides, I’d imagine he’d have Josie, or stayed at the ranch with them.”

She stabbed at her pile of stuffing. “How’s that going to work with you two and his daughter?”

“I don’t know.” It made me nervous to consider, so I’d tried not to. “I know he hasn’t dated much, hasn’t wanted women around his daughter, so I don’t know. We’ll figure it out, hopefully.”

“That’s good he’s like that. I knew I liked him.” She gave me a look, one that made the pinch of worry return to my chest.

“What do you mean you like him?”

Her nose scrunched and she stabbed at her green beans. Maize always ate like there wouldn’t be food for tomorrow or like someone would steal it from her, in a rush and aggressively. “I went and talked to him.”

“You did… what?” I set down my fork and set my hands on the table. She had to be joking.

“This morning when you were sleeping. I went and talked to him,” said the crazy little sister acting far too nonchalant.

“Why?” The word came out long, taking several seconds to finish, but I couldn’t believe this.

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