Page 46 of Never Always
My dad stands up, but Rexy nearly shouts. “I got it.” His eyes are wide. “I mean, if you don’t mind, sir. I’d love to carve the turkey.”
My dad shakes his head, and sits back down, placing his napkin on his lap. “Have at it, son. I’m used to a house full of women who don’t know how to use big sharp knives.”
Sue-Ellen groans. “That’s so deprecating, Daddy.”
Mama laughs. “It’s true though. Remember the year I bought that electric knife to try to carve the turkey myself? It was a disaster. I was picking dark meat out of my hair for hours.”
The three of us laugh, Rexy sends Maeve back to the table, and Grange looks nervous as he watches Maeve retreat. Standing, I grab the wine bottle and refill the glasses that are less than half empty. I down mine and refill it. Why is this whole day so nerve-wracking?Because it’s important,I think. Grange watches me curiously as I try to get my emotions in check, standing behind my chair to steady myself. He rounds the table and picks up the dinner plates and asks what type of meat everyone wants. When he picks up my plate, he drops a kiss on my shoulder.
“What kind of meat do you want?” His voice is a light whisper against the skin on my neck.
I pinch my lips between my teeth to keep from laughing. He’s gotten to me. Somewhere in between his inappropriate jokes and mean comments, I caved. Instead of replying with a dirty phrase, I say, “Breast, please.” I let my gaze find his and his amused expression is equal parts hot and turned on.
Shaking his head, he carries the plates back to Rexy and Mercer who are busy massacring a turkey with the ease of an ill charged hoverboard. I watch lovingly as the three burly men fumble around putting turkey on plates—their elbows hitting each other. Rexy swears at Grange and Mercer intervenes before anyone curses again.
“Everything is peachy keen,” Mercer drawls, his Southern accent thick as he delivers plates.
Everyone digs into the side dishes that are lined neatly in the center of the long rectangular table. Grange and I are seated next to each other at one end and my parents are at the other, our friends to either side on long wooden benches.
“Grace,” Clover pipes up when everyone is settled. “Who wants to lead?”
Maeve meets my eyes and I shake my head. Sue-Ellen sees the gesture and taps Daddy. “Why don’t you lead, Daddy.”
“That’s a great idea,” Rexy chimes.
Daddy clears his throat and holds up his hands to join with those next to him. “We are gathered here today in the finest of company to celebrate Thanksgiving. Friends, old and new, are here today and for that I am grateful.” Grange is holding my hand under the table, on my lap, far too close to the edge of my brown skirt that hits high thigh when I’m sitting. I draw in a breath and sneak a peek at him before squeezing his hand, a warning.
Daddy continues on. “In Jesus’ name. Amen. In following with Kline tradition, we will go around the table and say what we’re thankful for. You first, Sue-Ellen.”
This won’t be funny like it used to be when we were children. I’d say some toy or food item. My sister would say for winning her last pageant, and our parents would laugh. This Thanksgiving I think we’ll have to provide real answers. Grange releases my hand and slides his hand up my thigh and under my skirt. Trying not to jolt, I take a deep breath and survey those seated closest to us. They are focused on Sue-Ellen who is prattling on about world peace, like this is some kind of question portion of her dinner. Admittedly, I hope she continues with her act to beat Clover because Corrick slides my panties aside with fingers so deft, I think that’s what he should be grateful for. Or maybe what I’m grateful for? I can’t think straight. I’m soaking wet because it’s what happens anytime I’m this near him. The fact that I’m making eye contact with my dad while Grange fingers me should be a signal that this isn’t right, but it feels too good. Swallowing hard, I set my elbows on the table and spread my legs to give him better access. Clover and Mercer both say what they are thankful for, but I don’t hear what, because Grange is next and all eyes will be on us.Is he going to stop? Do I stop him? Oh, God, who am I right now? He knows who he is and what he wants. He always has.
Spoiler alert. He doesn’t stop, and any move I make would give us away. Corrick gives the table a lazy, handsome smile. I almost come right on the spot. “I’m thankful for everything that happened this year because it led me here. To you all. To Tennyson.” He looks at me and subtly sinks a finger farther inside me. I lose my breath, transfixed by his eyes which tell me a full, erotic story that he’s not telling anyone else. “She’s the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met and although she put up a fight. I think I’ve finally won her over.” He bites his bottom lip, and I have to turn away. “What are you thankful for, Fire?” He says my nickname in front of everyone. There is a lot of awwwwing and someone claps, and right now I’m thankful that no one has noticed I’m about to have an orgasm at the Thanksgiving table. I’m going to burn in hell.
The buildup is there, all I have to do is school my face into some semblance of cool complacence. Grange is wearing a long-sleeved shirt so the muscles that are surely bunching on his forearm aren’t visible. His movements are sly and unassuming. When he presses his finger all the way inside me, he coughs to cover the move and my knee comes up and hits the table as the waves hit. I laugh like a maniac to cover it, and no one is to the wiser. They go back to talking about how sweet Corrick Granger is. That sweet man’s finger presses against me as I grip his middle finger over and over. Grange prompts me again, “Tell the table. What are you grateful for?” He slides his finger out smoothly and brings his hand to his lap. I can’t even be mad because the oxytocin hits me like a drug. And also because his smile is so grand that it’s a jolt to my heart. In this lust haze, he’s going to get an answer he’s not expecting.
I sigh to cover up the fact I’m catching my breath. “Love. I’m thankful for falling in love with you. You’re awful and you turned my world upside down, but I love you, Corrick Granger and I’m never going to give up on you. I’m not used to having another person in my world, in my head, in my heart, but you crept in and I wouldn’t change it for anything. I’m grateful for you.” The table silences as they wait for Grange to respond.
After a few pregnant seconds and he refuses to stop gazing at me like I hung the moon, Rexy butts in. “I’ll tell you what I’m not thankful for. Having to follow that.” Mercer chuckles, but all the women are staring at Corrick like he might self-implode if he doesn’t reply to my confession.
“A second with Tennyson, please?” Grange says, picking up his turkey leg withthathand. He takes one bite, puts it down and proceeds to lick his fingers. Each one. The middle one twice.
“Of course,” Maeve nearly shouts out when everyone agrees. I pull down my skirt and try my hardest to walk normally into the guest room that’s closest to the dining room. All eyes are on my back. Even if they’ve decided to pause our grateful prayer for the moment, I know they’re going to talk about me and my odd behavior the second the door closes.
He closes the door and locks it. “Why did you do that?” He hikes his thumb to the door behind him. His eyes glint with anger and lust.
“I could ask you the same question!” I whisper-shout while pointing to my crotch. “You defiled me while I made eye contact with my parents, Grange!”
He smiles that megawatt smile. “I wouldn’t call it defiled. I did pretty good, didn’t I? Why would you make eye contact with your parents? That’s sick.”
“Why did I do what?” I ask, bringing him back to the topic.
He steps toward me and grabs me. Leaning down, he inhales my neck deeply before kissing the hollow of my neck. “Tell me you love me in front of people. When I couldn’t show you my feelings exactly.”
I wrinkle my brow. “Show me?”
“Show you. Especially when I know firsthand exactly how wet you are.” He picks me up and sets me on the edge of the bed, eyes large and chest vibrating with need. “Now we have less than two minutes for me to reciprocate.”
He takes my panties in his fist, slides my hips to the end of the bed and pushes up my skirt. When I’m bare and open for him, his pants and belt are on the floor by his feet and he’s in me. All of him, filling me in a solid thrust. His chin is upturned and his eyes are closed in the delicious agony of ecstasy. He’s deep and his thrusts are violent, needy, ungracious. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I go along with the pace. He groans and I know that means that it’s not going to be much longer, but I could tell by the way his jaw was set when he shut the door that it wouldn’t be. He comes inside me, pulling my hips to him so he’s as deep as he can possibly be.
