Page 92 of Make Me Blush (Oil Barrons 3)

Twenty-One

Holden

Stetson was outside getting the fryers ready for the turkeys. I also had a turkey roasting in the oven. After the year both Stetson and I fucked up the turkeys, we always had a backup. One turkey didn’t go far with a group this size, but it was something to throw at them when they were pissed about a half-burned, half-raw fried bird.

Nora pushed her way through my front door. She held a pan of something gluten-, milk-, and sugar-free that no one but me would touch. Emery would take a pity bite and earn my eternal appreciation.

“I have to make another trip, but this can sit out.” She set the glass pan down and pushed her golden hair behind an ear. “It’s like a pumpkin pie.”

I paused at the oven before I opened it to baste the bird. “How can it belikea pumpkin pie?”

“I used honey and—you know what? It’s better if I don’t say. Stetson might overhear and then he’ll blather to everyone about my ‘weird’ ingredients.”

She wasn’t wrong. Stetson had a close relationship with his gluten, milk, and sugar. “Is Colt coming?”

She wrinkled her nose like she always did when we talked about Colt. He’d arrived when she was fourteen, and she’d gone from terrified of his burly nature to “I can’t even” with his gruffness. The death knell had been when he’d gagged and spit out the special cake she’d baked for her nineteenth birthday. She’d forbidden me from buying her anything, insisting on doing the organic, grass-fed, free-range thing with every ingredient possible.

The cake had been memorable. That was all I could say. I’d never eaten chalk as a kid, but I hadn’t missed a thing if that cake was anything to go by.

Her “clean” cooking skills were getting better, but try as I might, I couldn’t stop the dread of the first bite with any of her food. None of us could after those early years, but no one else tried anymore.

“Colt disappeared like he always does,” she said.

He never spent holidays with us. I had invited him ever since my house had been finished and I’d been in charge of the guest list. “All right. Mom on the way?”

“I hope not,” she muttered as she went to the door to grab another concoction of hers. “She’s in rare form.”

“Shit.”

She paused with her hand on the doorknob. “I hate to even say anything, but I think you should know, just in case I’m right. I think she’s salty that Emery’s coming.”

“Why? Emery’s not seducing me to live a city life like she blamed Teagan for. Can’t she give her a chance before she acts like a ranch diva?”

Nora lifted a shoulder. “Who knows? It’s Mom, so it’s all about her.”

“Thanks for the warning.” How could our grandparents raise more than one self-centered, egotistical kid?

Mom and Emery had nothing in common, but they didn’t have to. Mom could be civil. That was all I asked.

People started arriving.

Aunt Willow breezed in and set the Crock-Pot with her asparagus hot dish on the island. Then she wrapped me in a warm hug. “I always look forward to your Thanksgivings. And did I hear correctly? I get to meet your girlfriend?”

“Yes, she’s coming.”

She pulled away, and her delighted smile eased the tension Nora’s warning had caused. “Kennedy has said wonderful things about her.”

“Likewise.” I hadn’t known Emery long, but she wasn’t one to gush over anything. She was steady with her emotions. But after her girls’ night with Kennedy and Laney, she’d talked about the night with a huge smile on her face and her hands flying, and she’d laughed when she relayed stories. Downright giddy.

I wished at least Laney and Archer would feel comfortable joining us for the holiday. I’d invited them but said I completely understood since Uncle Cameron and Mom hadn’t exactly been welcoming and they’d never apologized for the way they behaved. I didn’t invite Liam and Kennedy. I couldn’t care less about the ripples it’d cause in my family, but it would be worse for Liam. He’d been through enough.

Aunt Willow rushed outside to direct Uncle Bruce with the pies he was carrying, but she hadn’t needed to worry. Stetson was on it. He wouldn’t let anything happen to the sweets with Nora’s food as the only backup.

“Your woman’s here,” Stetson said as he carefully placed two pumpkin pies on the island. “So’s your mom.”

Shit. I rushed outside. We’d gotten a dusting of snow last night that might melt by the weekend, but I didn’t bother with a jacket. I tucked my face down to avoid as much of the bitter wind as I could.

Emery got out of her car, her hair tied in a knot at her neck and tucked into her winter coat. She rushed to her mom’s side. I gave Emery a quick kiss and held my elbow out to Lynnie. The path was icy.

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