Page 85 of Love Me, I Dare You

It’s Thanksgiving morning, and Nana Dorothy, mama and I are busy at work preparing all the ingredients necessary for the delicious food we’ll be serving tonight. The menu, as it does year after year, consists of the traditional classics with a southern twist. The main course is a Cajun rub turkey with a sweet and spicy white sausage gravy, a maple bourbon and cherry smoked ham, and for Holly, Camden’s wife, a vegetarian option of mushroom Wellington. But it’s the side dishes that are my all-time favorite. Classics comfort like roasted garlic mashed potatoes, four cheese mac n cheese, bacon and maple glazed brussels sprouts, green bean casserole, cornbread stuffing and sweet potato pie.

Brynn and I usually take care of the desserts, which this year will include the signature cupcakes I created for the festival tomorrow. However, my sister has decided she won’t be assisting in any of the food preparation since after last weekend, she is an engaged woman. Apparently, the giant rock on her finger cannot be near any uncooked poultry.

Meanwhile, I’m wrist deep in the bird, stuffing it with a medley of vegetables and herbs. I’m a complete mess of nerves and my brother is to blame. After all, it was Jase's idea to invite the Bishops over for Thanksgiving dinner.

In the wake of Franklin Bishop's death last week, Jase spoke to our mother about the Bishops' need for family, particularly at this time of year. My mother, the saintly woman that she is, agreed and that folks, is why Monty, Monroe and Nash, alongside Theo and Beau, who came to town for the occasion, were joining us for dinner.

I know tonight is going to be a disaster, but it doesn't mean I’m any less excited to be spending my favorite holiday with the man that I love. Even if no one knows it. I remove my hand from the turkey and go to the sink to wash my hands. “Mama, youknow she said there was no way she was risking losing her ring tonight.”

“That girl,” Nana says as she pats the turkey dry and takes the compound butter from the counter, lathering every inch of the bird before covering it in a Cajun dry rub. “How is she planning on being a wife if she’s refusing to be in the kitchen?”

“That’s what private chefs are for Nana,” Brynn says excitedly as she saunters into the room and places a kiss on my nana’s cheek. “They didn’t have those in your day.”

Nana scoffs, swatting away at my little sister with a hand covered in seasoned butter. “You kids these days have no sense of reason. It’s what’s wrong with the world. No manners or responsibilities. You just wander through town like hooligans dating and spending hours on those devil devices you carry around in your hand.”

And that’s my cue to end that conversation. I absolutely adore my nana. She’s been my champion throughout the troubles I’ve had with my parents. She may not agree with the choices I’ve made, but she’s also never judged me about them, at least not to my face. Maybe it’s because she knew my mother’s wild side, before she was a married woman. Magnolia Buchanan was no saint, but Nana’s equally conservative views are one reason I limit my time spent around her.

“Nana, I’m an engaged woman, and our Bailey here is bound to surprise us any day now with her latest conquest.” I could murder Brynn for her out-of-pocket comment, and if the look on my face could kill, it would.

“Bailey, is there something you’d like to share?” This comes from my mama, who wears a suspicious expression. The last time she saw me with a man was when I rode in on the back of Nash’s motorcycle. The way her jaw clenches as she bites her tongue and holds back what she’d really like to say. I think thisis the exact moment she regrets inviting the Bishops over for dinner.

“Brynn has no idea what she’s talking about, per usual.” I ignore their mundane conversations about the upcoming church service, the festival, and every other bit of condescending gossip they pass along like mockingbirds chirping in the middle of springtime. Here in the south, bless their heart, is the equivalent of they should be ashamed of themselves.

As I busy myself with gathering the ingredients for my desserts, I think back on the week that’s gone by since Nash confronted Billie and me about Monroe’s pregnancy. After much deliberation, mainly him in disbelief about how his sweet baby sister could have had sex and ended up pregnant—highly hypocritical, if you ask me—Billie left the two of us to talk and hash things out. It was our first official fight as whatever kind of couple we were and I soon realized he wasn’t really upset about me keeping her pregnancy from him. Instead, he feared for his sister and what was to come from having a baby as a single mother.

As Monroe’s best friend, I had the same worries. Though, I assured him it was her decision to make and that she would never be alone in any of it. Monroe had us, all of us, including him, although he loved to remind us all of how he wasn't sure what his future in Crossroads would look like. I tried my best to ignore it, assuring him we would take our relationship day by day.

This conversation, of course, came after the endless sex and mind-blowing orgasms he gave me once Billie left. We couldn’t continue to let the outside noise take over what we felt for each other. It had been something special before, but now, as the years went by and we grew up, it all felt so much more intense and real. We needed time to heal or to allow us to mature into two people who’d found their way back to each other, regardlessof what separated us to begin with. Though he didn't outright say it, and I lost the nerve to, I know Nash cares about me. I’m almost certain I still love him, but we said we'd agreed not to add too much pressure on ourselves and see how things play out.

Nash spent the week finalizing everything with the ranch and dealing with the services for Franklin—not that any of them were planning on attending. Billie and I spent our free time with Monroe helping her through her grief and talking about how this is going to affect her relationship with her brother. Monty had been cold and distant with her, more because he felt responsible for what occurred and not because he was truly upset with her. She also had spoken little to Nash, but I assured her he was beating himself more about how strained their relationship had been because of him than anything.

At last, after much deliberation on my part, I confided in her about my relationship with Nash and how we’d decided to take things slowly and see what they become. Overall, Monroe was happy for me, though she let me know she also worried about how I would be if Nash decided he wasn’t staying. I told her I could keep holding myself back from taking the chance to be with him for fear that might happen. I’d gotten over it once before, I’d do it again.

All I could hope for was that, tonight, we’d make it out alive.

The Bishop men are currently gathered in my living room having a drink with my father and my brothers while us gals, Billie included of course, help my mama and nana set up the dining room and plate all the delicious food we’ve slaved all morning on. I can't focus on anything other than the whispersI hear from the living room as I watch my father glare at Nash from his spot against the bar.

“Bailey? Did you hear me?” my mama asks, drawing my attention away from the gorgeous man dressed head to toe in black—a black dress shirt, dark wranglers, and his usual military boots.

His beard is neatly trimmed, slightly shorter than he’s had it recently, while his hair combed neatly in place, makes me want to run my fingers through it and leave it disheveled. I'm stunned by how handsome he is, yet I can't help smiling at his attempt to impress my parents. Not that it would matter but, I appreciate the sentiment.

I shake off my distraction and turn my attention back to the woman in front of me currently scowling at me like it’s her god given right. “Sorry mama, I’m just a little tired. What did you ask?”

Handing me a stack of cloth napkins, folded to look like swans I’m to place on top of every table setting, she shakes her head. “I swear, Bailey. You’ve had your head in the clouds all morning. What is going on with you lately? You’ve been acting so out of character?”

“Nothing, mama. I’ve just been busy at work and preparing for tomorrow's festival. We’ll be running two booths, and a lot of time and effort goes into that.”

She scoffs at the mention of my choice of a career. “If you’d have just listened more to your father and me, you wouldn’t be stressed over all this nonsense. You’d be peacefully focused on your work with the church or with the local charities we help with, happily engaged and soon to be starting your own family like Brynn is.”

Of course, that’s the dream. Beside me, Monroe lets out a muffled curse, agreeing with my sentiment given her situation. We’ve all agreed to respect Monroe’s wishes to keep things quietabout her pregnancy for as long as we’re able to. It’s honestly no one’s business but her own and it may have taken quite a bit of convincing, but her brother’s finally conceded.

Besides, my mother is the last person who should judge her, though it doesn't mean that will stop her.

“Why don’t you go and let your father and the rest of the men know that dinner is ready and to make their way to the dining room?”

With a deep inhale and an ounce of courage, I look toward where the men currently hide out in the living room, drinks in their hand as they partake in hushed conversations. Camden and Tommy stand alongside my father and Mr. Cole, Billie’s dad, while Jase joins the Bishops’, all gathered to one side, speaking only amongst each other.

It’s odd to see them all in one place after all these years, but they’ve somehow made peace with the fact they all have busy lives that have kept them away for various reasons.

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