Tangled with the Tight End (Evergreen Lake: Under the Mistletoe)

Chapter 12

twelve

NORAH

Thanksgiving Day

After I pick up my parents in my SUV, I back out of their driveway and turn right. Eden’s place is only a few blocks away. Everything in Evergreen Lake is only a few blocks away. My dad sits beside me, always ready to help me navigate, while my mom is tucked in a back seat with a cake container on her lap.

“What do they even have for an Italian Thanksgiving dinner?” My mom pats her hair. “I suppose it’s lasagna and bread.”

“Don’t fret, Mom. There will be a turkey.” I fight back a smile at her obvious trepidation. Eden wanted to impress her parents-in-law by adding some of their dishes to the Thanksgiving feast, but my parents won’t need to revolt. There will be plenty of traditional ‘American’ meal choices as well.

“Good. I don’t mind switching things up a little, but no turkey or stuffing….” She shakes her head. “I’d have to draw the line there. The Mitchells are having dinner at 3. We can always leave early and go there if we’re starving.”

My mom and Sawyer’s mom grew up together, so we wouldn’t be unwelcome guests if we showed up there unannounced.

“It’s going to be fine.” I flip on the blinker and turn to the right.

“Cordelia, stop fussing.” My father glances at her in the rearview mirror. “You act like you’ve never had Italian food before. It’s not raw fish.”

“Please.” She rolls her eyes. “It’s not like you weren’t bellyaching this morning while getting out of the shower. You were as worked up as I was about the menu.”

“Okay, you two.” I tap my fingertips on the steering wheel. “Stop fussing and worrying. The food will be delicious. I was there yesterday and helped Eden finalize some of the desserts. All of it smelled delicious.”

The closer we get to her house, the harder my stomach churns, and it has nothing to do with the food choices. I can’t get Gabriel out of my head, and the thought of seeing him again has me in knots.

Logically, I know there’s no chance of a relationship because after Christmas, he’s going to fly back home, and I won’t see him again for two or three years. But the foolish side of me wants to see him again. To feel the butterflies fluttering in my belly. To lose my breath when he looks at me. To feel my toes curl when he brushes against me. To….

Stop. You sound like a silly schoolgirl. But that does nothing to erase the fact that last night’s dreams were filled with him. His hands caressing me. His tongue and mouth devouring me. Heat curls in my core until it’s a steady drumbeat. The way his body slammed into mine, our gasps filling the room.

I woke up in a sweat, and the only relief I experienced was my fingers caressing and teasing my clit until I bucked wildly on the bed with his name falling from my lips. I count to ten as I navigate the next street.

Don’t get your hopes up. He doesn’t belong here. And I don’t belong there. We don’t fit together no matter how exquisitely he fills me in my dreams.

“How are the new business ventures progressing?” My father taps the toe of his shoe on the floorboard. The man refused to branch out when he owned the bistro, so every change I’ve made has been met with… Not disapproval. That’s too strong of a word. More like apprehension. Or questioning.

“It’s going well. The specialty coffees are a hit at the bistro, and the lodge sales show a profit.”

“Well done, dear.” My mom smiles in the rearview mirror. “I repeatedly told your father to do something different over the last twenty years, but would he? No. He always frowned and looked at me like I was growing wings out of my shoulder blades. He had to do everything the same. Morning. Noon. And night.”

“Cordelia,” he says with censure in his voice. He swings his head around to face her. “I like things the way they are.”

“Yes, I know.”

“If something’s working, why change it up? It’s not like you complain about some of my tendencies.”

My mother’s cheeks darken. “You’re right.”

I cringe as the tension in the vehicle intensifies. Ugh. They’re no longer discussing how the toilet paper goes on the holder or where he takes off his shoes.

“I know I am.” He arches an eyebrow.

“Don’t.” I glare at them both as I approach Eden’s house. “I don’t want to hear it.”

My parents aren’t old, but I was a surprise. They tried for several years to get pregnant, gave up, and surprise, here I came. In their early fifties, they still have plenty of life left in them. But do we have to talk about the life part they’re discussing?

Gabriel holds the vehicle door open for his mother in front of Eden’s house, and there goes the butterflies. The fluttering makes it hard to catch my breath.

“Who is that?” My father cocks his head and frowns. “Is that Marco’s brother and their parents?”

“Yes.” My voice is stilted to avoid giving anything away.

“The football player?” His hand is on the door handle. My dad loves football. When Eden started dating Marco, he was in heaven, pelting him with questions and hanging on his every word. We even caught a few of his games before he retired. Now, he has a new victim.

“Yes, that’s him, but you wait until we stop before you accost him and ask for his autograph.” I roll to a stop as he and his parents turn to see who’s arrived. Gabriel’s gaze meets mine, and my chest tightens even more.

Before I turn the engine off, my dad is across the sidewalk and pumping Gabriel’s arm up and down in an enthusiastic handshake.

“This is going to be fun,” my mom mutters as she climbs out of my vehicle with the container in her hands. She’s never been a big sports enthusiast.

Once they’ve introduced themselves, my dad pulls Gabiel to the side. “So, tell me about Gunner Sinclair. Does he really have a slingshot for an arm? Or is it all an illusion?”

“He’s that good.” Gabriel is dead serious as Gino latches his arms around his grandfather’s neck and watches my dad like a hawk.

“Damn.”

“Dad.” I chastise him because of little ears and nod toward Gino.

“Right, sorry.” My father shoves his hands into his pockets. “I haven’t been around little kids for a few years. I forget we need to watch what we say.”

“He’s a little mimic.” Santino laughs and pats his grandson’s back with his free hand as he walks past his wife. “Teresa, let’s go inside.”

“Norah!” My dad calls out as Gabriel’s parents go inside while chatting with my mom. “Have you met Gabriel?”

“Yes, Dad, I’ve met him.”

My father spins on his heel and glares. “And you didn’t say anything on the ride over? I thought I raised you better after all those years of Sunday football games.”

One corner of my mouth arches upward. “And Monday night. And a few random Thursdays.”

“Thank God.” He clutches his chest. “I thought you’d forgotten our ritual of yelling at the TV and talking….” He glances toward Gino as Santino opens the front door. “Crap about the referees.” He shivers hard at a gust of wind. “I’ll see you inside. It’s freezing out here.” He ambles to the door but swings his head around as Santino holds the door open for him. “I’ll catch you later.”

He’s right. It’s cold. Too cold to stand out here. At least, that’s what I tell myself. It has nothing to do with the fact that as soon as the door shuts, Gabriel and I will be alone outside.

Gabriel grasps my upper arm and arches an eyebrow. “I had the distinct impression you didn’t care for football.” His eyes bore into mine, and I swallow hard. The man is too good-looking to be real.

“I never said that.”

“So….” He pauses. “You only disliked me?”

“I didn’t say that either.” My heart clamors in my chest like a hummingbird trying to break free.

He clears his throat. “Have you watched me play?”

That’s a loaded question. It’s on the tip of my tongue to lie, but the truth comes out instead. “Yes, I’ve seen you play.” I shrug. I’m not sure how I didn’t recognize him the first time we met. Maybe it’s because he had such a cranky expression on his face. And I had no idea he was coming to Evergreen Lake for a visit. “You’re good. One of the best.”

“Really?”

I cock my head sideways. “I’m fairly certain you know you’re good and don’t need to seek my opinion to validate your ego. Your team pays you a lot of money because you’re good.”

His eyes narrow, but not in an irritated way. I blink. How did he get so close? His body heat mingles with mine, yet we remain far enough apart that we aren’t touching. The butterflies flutter again when his gaze dips to my lips. His voice is low when he says, “I like knowing you’ve watched me play and approved.”

“You beat our team 31 to 17 last year and scored two touchdowns.”

His eyes widen. “Were you there?”

“Yes. You ruined my date. My date pouted the rest of the night, and I went home early.”

“Good,” he growls, sending a shiver of heat straight to my core. I’m in dangerous territory here, but I don’t seem to care.

My mouth widens into a smile. “He didn’t like that I cheered when you scored.”

“You just made my day.” His eyes dance with humor and unmistakable desire as Eden opens the door.

“Come inside, guys, before you freeze to death. I wouldn’t want you to use body heat to revive each other.” She winks and swings the door wider for us to enter.