Page 32 of Hold On Me

My eyes skim to Mama to clarify that she can’t hear mental curse words, and when she just smiles sweetly at me, I breathe a sigh of relief and trudge over to the seat.

Primly sitting down, scooting as close to the arm of the sofa as I can get, I turn my attention to the card game some of them are playing and ignore the game on the TV. It’s not that I don’t enjoy football—you can’t be a member of this family and hate it—but I’m only interested in watching it when the Spartans play. Seeing as the boss and the quarterback are sitting in the same room as me, that’s not today.

I suppose I should be thankful really. Football on TV is better than what we had to do last year. We spent Thanksgiving in a freezing cold stadium watching the Spartans play. The only good thing about it was the drinking game Jameson and Jonathan started. I was the impartial judge and was in charge of not letting them get too drunk. I failed that mission and got told off just as bad as they did from Mama.

As the fond memory shoots through my mind, Mama looks over to me and smiles before turning to talk to my dad about something I can’t make out. My attention snaps back to the presence sitting next to me as Ben shuffles a little closer and widens his legs so his thigh brushes against mine.

My senses are thrown into overdrive. My skin feels like it’s on fire, every nerve in my body attuned to him as my heart starts racing. I can’t move any further away from him, so I’m trapped. The heat from his hard thigh burns through the leggings I’m wearing, forcing a blush to cross my cheeks that I know isn’t missed from Angie and Jameson. I shoot a piercing look their way which they both ignore and continue to grin at me. I hate them both. Maybe I can feign getting a drink and use it to move away from him without causing too much attention.

As soon as I move a fraction of an inch, Angie jumps up, declares she's getting a drink, and asks if anyone wants anything. The bitch. It’s like she could read my mind. After scowling and asking for a coke through gritted teeth, she leaves the room with a swish of her long blonde hair and another wink.

“So Penelope, how have you found working for the Spartans so far? Not too confusing for you?” Ben's voice is low enough for me to hear over the din of the Bradys’, but not loud enough for everyone else.

I catch the humour in his tone and I know he’s referring to my little outburst, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of letting him know I know.

“It’s been fine. Apart from a few oddities occurring at the beginning of the week, it’s been pleasant enough.”

A soft laugh leaves his lips as he casually throws his arm on the back of the sofa and finally moves his thigh from mine as he turns slightly toward me.

“Oddities? Hmmm maybe we should discuss these further. Would now be a good time?”

The amusement dancing in his eyes and the grin toying with his lips makes me want to lean over and smack it or kiss it off. I haven’t decided yet.

“Where are your good British manners, Mr. Elias? Surely you know it’s rude to discuss work matters on Thanksgiving.”

I tut a little to truly show my disgust and take a little pride in the laugh that falls from those full lips of his. His tongue pokes out to wet them and I can’t look away. This guy makes me go from awkward nerves to wanting to make out in front of everyone in seconds. It drives me mad.

He leans forward a little more, his fingers brushing over my hair, the feeling all too intimate. And something I’m not hating.

“I thought I told you to call me Ben. Breaking the rules already. And I thought you were a good girl.”

His whispered words tickle the shell of my ear, sending a flood of arousal to my panties and a flame of heat through my body. I’m lost for words and have no idea where to look.

Thankfully I’m saved by Angie thrusting a glass in front of me which I snatch and gulp down quickly.

“You looked like you could use a drink. You alright there, hun?” She perches on the arm rest of the sofa and I nod furiously at her, grateful for the reprieve, and a little sad when his arm slips from behind me.

Holy fuck this is a crazy ride.

“I’m stuffed. I couldn’t eat another thing.” Angie leans back in her chair and rests her head on Jenson’s shoulder as he pats his belly.

“I’m ready for dessert,” he declares loudly and the rest of the table groans.

“How is it humanly possible for you to eat anything else? You had twice as much as me but now you want dessert? You’re an animal.” Angie shakes her head as Mama chuckles softly next to her.

“You’ve never complained about me being an animal before. Or about me needing to eat my dessert, Kitten.”

It’s a very rare occasion when I get to see Angie stunned and embarrassed, but this is one of those times. There’s a deathly silence around the table, all eyes on Jenson as he shifts uncomfortably in his chair.

“I didn’t mean… It just slipped out… It was too good an opportunity.” He scrabbles around trying to form sentences, but Angie’s scowl is burning into him as Jameson rolls his lips to hide his smile and my eyes bat between him and Angie.

Ben shifts back a little on his chair and I notice his eyes darting from each person, trying to gauge what will happen next. Mama breaks the tension by scraping her chair back, probably a little harsher than necessary, and silently walking over to the sink. She opens the cupboard under it and digs around for a bit as every member of the Brady family lets out a chuckle.

Everyone but Jenson, anyway. “Mama, please, I didn’t mean it.” Jenson’s apologies fall on deaf ears as Ben looks over to Angie who shrugs her shoulders.

“Now you know the rules. Put. It. On.” Mama stands in front of Jenson, her eyes locked on his, and then produces the pointy, cone-shaped hat, elaborately decorated in orange with Otto stickers and Spartans logos all over it. But the thing that stands out the most is the navy blue D in the middle of it.

“But Mama, I don’t wanna wear the dunce’s hat. I promise I’ll be good from now on,” he whines as everyone at the table laughs openly.

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