Page 11 of Sugar, Sprinkles, and Secrets
It’s not right to deny a man his turkey. Plus, I don’t think we have pie. We can help each other save Thanksgiving. Come on over.
Me
I would really appreciate it. I can’t let Dante down.
Max
Did you not see we don’t have pie? Come on woman, load up the kids and your friend, and we will see you when y’all get here. I’ll even preheat the oven for you.
Crap. I guess I’m spending Thanksgiving with the man who stole my heart—and who I ran away from like a giant turkey.
Chapter eight
“Why did the turkey cross the road on Thanksgiving?” Dante asks Chase, and my brother grins at the cute little guy.
“I don’t know, why?”
“He was pretending to be a chicken so he wouldn’t get gobbled up!” Dante laughs at the punchline, but it’s impossible not to join in. The Riley men sit to my right, with my dad next to me, then Uncle Frank and Tommy. Chase is sitting at the other end of the table next to Cara’s friend Cami. Cara’s niece and nephew sit between her and Cami, and I lucked out by being able to sit next to Cara for an entire meal—one I plan to do everything I can to make last as long as possible.
When Cara texted me this morning, I’d never been so happy to hear about a broken kitchen appliance. I called my dad and he brought some extra chairs, and we had the table set up as though it was always meant to be set for nine instead of five all along. We also would’ve had a very meat focused meal without Cara’s sides, because we had only planned on stuffing and corn, but now, we have an entire feast stretched out on my kitchen island. It’s been an incredible meal in both the food aspect and the company around the table.
My favorite part, other than having Cara here, has been seeing my dad enjoying himself, and even laughing a few times. We don’t need to worry about trying to avoid talking about Mom because Dante and Mila are the perfect distraction. I’m not sure how they’re eating because neither seem to stop talking, but it feels so nice to have them here with us.
And it feels right to have Cara back in my home.
I look to my left and try not to stare for too long, but she’s so damn beautiful. She catches me and gives me a small smile, but I don’t miss the slight pink of her cheeks. Interesting. I’m not out of the game yet.
I get up to grab something from the kitchen and Cara follows me, saying something about checking to make sure the ovens are off, but I wasn’t really paying attention because I couldn’t wait another moment. Placing one finger to my mouth, signaling her to be quiet, I reach for her with my other hand. We interlock our fingers, and I give her a slight tug toward the hidden pantry in my kitchen. She rolls her lips, glances over her shoulder, and then gives me the most beautiful sight—my girl smiles. Not a cautious smile, her full, radiant smile that I haven’t seen in months.
I pull her into the pantry, which looks like a cabinet door on the outside, but opens to a hidden pantry tucked within the kitchen footprint. The lights automatically come on in the small room, and I press the button to override the auto shutoff as I pull the door shut and her into my arms, all in one smooth swoop. I hold her body flush against mine, loving how her soft curves fit against my body like two puzzle pieces that were made to click together perfectly. I run my other hand up her neck until it’s cradling her head, with my thumb running along her jaw. Her eyes darken and Cara leans into my hold while sliding her hands up my chest, with one hand going into my hair. Fuck, I’ve missed how she tugs on my hair.
I lean down and run my nose along her neck. She smells like sugar and happiness. I kiss below her ear as she mutters, “Max. Please.”
“Shhh. I know,” I whisper. I’m not sure how soundproof my hidden pantry is but I don’t really want to test it with Dante, Mila, and my father sitting just around the corner. I pull back and look into her eyes … that are now glistening with unshed tears. “It’s okay, Cara.” She nods slightly. I’m sure we both have regrets but now is not the time to unpack all of that. It’s a brief stolen moment and I want to make it count.
And I really want to kiss her.
Guiding her head to the angle I want her, I lean in and our first kiss in months is soft, gentle, almost reverent. The emotions being communicated are enough to bring tears to my own eyes. I run my tongue along her lips and she surrenders, opening for me. The sweet moment explodes when Cara lifts her leg and hitches it around my body, pulling me close, lining us up to take this much further than we should with family in the next room.
We shouldn’t have sex right now, but that’s not stopping her from rotating her hips to take what she needs—or me from sliding my hand down to her delectable ass and grabbing it firmly. What we should or shouldn’t do isn’t stopping me from meeting her hips thrust for thrust, all while our kiss deepens and intensifies. Just because we shouldn’t, doesn’t mean I don’t want to—there are a lot of things I want to do to Cara and being back inside her is definitely at the top of that list. Her moan is borderline too loud, and seconds later, Mila’s squeal of laughter from the other room seems to break the spell as we both slightly laugh at our position up against the shelves in my pantry. We break apart, pressing our foreheads together, both of us panting and trying to catch our breaths.
“We should probably…” Cara trails off.
“Right. We should get back out there, but this conversation isn’t over, Cara,” I tell her as I kiss her just below her ear—a dirty move because I know that drives her crazy.
“It isn’t? We … we didn’t have a conversation.”
“Exactly. But we will.” I kiss her forehead and lower her leg back down as she straightens her clothes and I open the pantry door, hoping for a clear kitchen.
Of course, my brother Tommy is there, not even hiding his smirk. The little shit just had to be standing in the kitchen. “Well, that’s one way to have a Happy Thanksgiving.”
Cara squeaks behind me as she exits right as Tommy comments, and she turns crimson before sneaking out of the kitchen toward the powder room. “What? I’m not the one trying to stuff my turkey.” Tommy cracks up at his own joke and I try tohold back a smile as we go back to the table, hoping our absence wasn’t noticed.
Mila and Dante didn’t say anything, but both Chase and Cami winked—almost coordinated—and I acted like I didn’t see either of them. Not that it stopped Tommy from laughing like Chase had just told the best joke in the world.
Usually, dessert is my favorite part of our Thanksgiving meal, but like everything else in my life, Cara changed that too.
Cara leans over to me and lowers her voice so no one overhears. “So, I know it’s cheesy, but I’m really trying to teach Dante and Mila the importance of being grateful, even when life is tough, so would it be okay if we all went around and said something we’re grateful for today?”
