To myself?
Lexi guiltily laughs, “We’re so late,” smoothing her straightened hair. “And don’t you dare bring up that you told me to leave it curly. It wouldn’t have saved time.”
I get a side-stare as I mutter, “Wasn’t going to.”
“Hey!” She faces me, tilts her head. “Are you nervous? You don’t have to be. My family is really nice. You’ll see.”
“From the ones I met, I’m sure they are.” But you didn’t want to bring me here. Admit it. “Just hungry.”
“Me too!” Lexi relaxes. “We worked up an appetite. Come on!”
Walking up a cleanly landscaped path of a beautiful old home that looks far more welcoming than Ethan’s castle did, I take commitment’s deep breath.
I accepted this invitation.
Starting an argument or being a dick in any way is not acceptable. I’m a guest in someone’s home.
Not that being a dick is ever acceptable.
But ego is an enemy to every man.
“Nice place. Spend your Christmases here?”
As we walk inside, an inviting living room to our left, she explains, “Christmas Eve we’d spend at Grandma and Grandpa’s. Still do, especially since Grams comes over from her senior living house. Plus my dad and his twin…” she pauses to see if I remember his name.
I nod, “Justin,”
“That’s right. Uncle Justin. You’ll recognize them because they’re got super light blonde hair—”
“—And there will be two of them.”
Lexi laughs, and continues, “They’re very close, and we could’ve just combined families, but it was more fun to have everyone — all of us here!”
She points to the staircase we’re passing that’s lined with family photos as deep as the eye can see, from a sepia-toned 1940’s era wedding photo to one recently taken of all the cousins, because I spot Lexi immediately, looking as she does now. Fucking gorgeous.
“Christmas Eve must’ve been one hell of a party.”
She squeezes my hand. “No different than what you’re about to see. Our Family BBQs are epic. Just because it’s December 24th doesn’t make it any different than these, except maybe that we drink cider then over Grandma’s fresh ginger-ale, and there are way more desserts.”
“And candy canes.”
She scrunches her nose. “Actually I don’t like those.”
We walk into a sunlit kitchen empty of people, chili spices in the air and splashes of burnished red on the floor where it spilled during transport.
Lexi releases my hand, runs over to dampen paper-towels, pointing to the gauze-draped window over her grandparents’ sink.
She didn’t need to bring the crowded party to my heightened attention because I’m stopped near the cream-trimmed backdoor, counting heads conversing outside. Blinking away as I reach fifty and give up, I cock an eyebrow to where Lexi is wiping the tile of spilled chili.
“Where’s the trash, Cherry?”
“Under their sink.”
I walk over, open a pine cabinet. “Toss it in.”
Lexi grins, spinning on her heel in a half-squat, aims, throws, and I turn the bin to help the win. “Yes!”
Chuckling, I close the cabinet, take her hand and another deep breath. “Let’s do this.”
“You ready?”
Locking eyes with her I ask a question that’s deeper than she knows. “Are you?”
She laughs, “Truth?” toward the backyard. “I’m a little nervous.”
My chest tightens, but I don’t let it show, leading her outside onto a back porch weathered by time, heading toward a lawn just three steps below that’s large enough her cousin and his team could play football on it.
To our left is a series of foldouts covered with clean table cloths blowing in the warm breeze, enough food on them for a giant’s family.
Fifty, sixty, or seventy people —kids, too — are standing around, some sitting, all engaged in conversation.
The door behind us slams.
All heads turn.
Conversations vanish.
We stop where we are, just before the three steps that will take us down to the party.
We’re on a stage.
I’m not the performer type.
Everyone is staring at us.
My gaze swipes across familiar and unfamiliar faces as Lexi waves a quiet, “Hi," from where we stand on display.
From where she sits atop two floral cushions, a frail old woman shouts, “Lexi brought a hunk?!”
And everyone starts laughing.
Chapter Twenty-Six
LEXI
With a release of tension I cry out, “Grams!” glancing to Gage’s reaction. He grins, broad shoulders losing their stubborn hold.
Ever since inviting him, I’d been talking non-stop in an effort to make him comfortable. Distracted. It didn’t work. His energy felt like elastic pulled to its breaking point. A dozen times I expected him to bail.
Thank you, Grams.
Disaster averted.
As most of the party resumes suspended conversations, I lead the way to three steps I’ve run, walked or danced down all my life.
Whenever people remark on how it’s a miracle this porch is still intact after all the years since he and Grandma Nance bought this house, Grandpa Michael offers the same simple explanation — a proud, “Strong wood!”
It has seemed to me he meant the family more than material, even though Hunter laughed when I told him about my belief, double entendre too easy.
The crowd gives way to the most curious — my parents and two of my brothers, Max and Caden. Hunter doesn’t seem to be here. In searching for him and Sam, I lock eyes with her, and give her the silent signal, I need you!
She leaves Zoe’s side immediately, excusing herself to the guests as she pushes through.
Max arrives first to say, “So this isn’t Brad, I hear,” loud enough for the others to hear as our circle forms.
Whatever tension Gage let go of I pick up. “You’ve been talking to Wyatt and Nathan.”
Caden crosses arms free of his usual scrubs. “Yeah. They called us. And why didn’t you?”
“They let you out?” I toss back.
“I’m on call.”
“Too bad for me.”
He smirks, “Jerk.”
“Kids!”
“Yeah, Lexi,” Max demands, ignoring Mom, “Why do we have to hear about our sister from our…cousins?”
“Because my brothers are pains in the…butt, that’s why.”
He left out the word ‘fucking’ and I left out ‘ass’ since we try not to swear at Family BBQs, out of respect to Grams.
Try.
Mom, the shortest uber-adult here with the largest personality, thrusts out her small hand. “I’m Sarah Cocker, Lexi’s mother. The kind who might kick both of her sons’…butts if they don’t cut it out!”
“Gage Holbrook.” He shakes her hand. “Nice to meet you. Now I see where Lexi gets her fire, and the curly red hair.”
“She never wears it like this, though. And her eyes are all my husband’s doing.” Mom smiles to our tall and lean, green-eyed father whose white hair frames a handsome face marred only by permanent frown lines born of concentration on the next big album. Pointing up, she adds, “He gave her a couple more inches in height, too.”
“Jason Cocker. Nice to meet you, Gage.” They shake hands as he cuts a reproachful glance my way. “Although I have to admit our sons have me beat. This is the first time I’m hearing about you.” Stepping back as Sammy completes the circle, he looks at Max. “You could’ve tipped me off that your sister had a boyfriend, don’t you think?”
“Isn’t that her job?”
Dad’s hands slide into his front jeans pockets — classic Cocker move when the men are irritated. “Aren’t you the one who crowds her? Who wisely said that kids don’t tell their parents everything?”
Max smirks, “This is one of those times, Dad.”
I sigh,
“He’s not my boyfriend,” also irritated, but at the pressure they’re putting on this. On us.
Sam smiles and gives a little wave, “Hi Gage. A lot of people, huh?”
“Big family,” he nods, shoulders tight again.
Mom picks up Sammy’s cue to make him comfortable, a friendly smile lighting her up. “Don’t mind my rude husband and sons. They’ve just never met anyone Lexi has dated. Introduce yourselves!”
“Sorry, I’m Max.” They shake hands.
“Max is a film director,” Mom explains.
“I’m Caden.” Another firm handshake.
She beams, “Caden’s a surgeon. Just made hearts his specialty,” and is about to ask Gage what he does, when she’s interrupted by Grandma Nance.
“Foods ready! Everyone dig in!”
Because food is Dad’s kryptonite, he shouts, “Bout time!”
She shouts back, “Jason Cocker, are you feeling alright?”
Most heads turn except for those engaged in conversations too interesting to pause.
Dad frowns, “Yeah?! Why?!”
“Because of this!” She raises a glass pitcher of homemade ginger-ale, pointing to the table. “And the other one is still full, too!”
People chuckle.
Even him.
“I got distracted by my daughter bringing what Grams calls ‘a hunk’ to our BBQ, Ma! Sue me!”
“Well if that’s all it takes, then Lexi, your friend is welcome anytime!”
Laughter dominates the party as Dad, Max and Caden head off to eat, leaving Gage and I with just us girls as Mom mutters, “Why go now when there’s a line?”
Sammy and I say in unison, “Because they’ll cut through it.”
Mom’s almond eyes sharpen. “Oh no, they won’t!” and she hurries off.
Sammy, Gage and I make a triangle, and he listens to us finishing each other’s sentences with amusement. And interest.
“Dad always steals the ginger-ale.”
“Lexi and I love it—”
“—but not as much as he does.”
“Nobody loves it as much as he does.”
“Nobody! But the chili—”
“—that’s what’s got Max and Caden forgetting all about you—”
“—which shows how good it really is.”
“What an entrance, Lexi!”
I lower my voice to whisper, “That was crazy.”
“Everyone was staring at you guys! You looked scared.”
“I did not!”
Her eyebrows hike. “You did!”
“What about him?” I jog a thumb.
“Gage was as cool as always. I was impressed!”
Even now I find him comfortably watching me. “You weren’t freaked out by that?”
“It was fine.”
My head swings back. I want to call out the stones on either side of his neck, but all I can manage is a shocked, “Fine?!”
He touches his navy blue Henley’s button, shrugging, “Yeah. I knew you had a big family.”
Cocking my head I smirk, “Oh and when you know things, you’re fine.”
My bait unbitten, Gage scans the party. “So who is everyone?”
“Oh man,” Sammy smiles, “I’m skipping this part,” and leaves us alone while I launch in, connecting the dots by pointing to family members I’ve previously described so he can attach faces to names.
As I describe them he keeps up, comprehension lighting his crocodiles in a way that makes me believe he’ll remember what I’m saying. He has few questions, until finally, “Is the chili as good as you say?”
“See that line?”
He chuckles, “Gotcha.”
Our fingers lace together. “But there’s one person who can’t stand in it. Let’s keep her company.” We cross the grass, negotiating our way through tables that are filling up. “My great-grandmother is a centenarian. She grew up during the second World War. Great-grandpa Jerald passed long before I was born.”
Gage says under his breath, “That’s not good,” as we get closer.
“She talks about him a lot. Yet somehow she still smiles,” I give his hand a squeeze before letting go to hug her. “Hi Grams!”
Her southern drawl is music in my ear, “Lexi, you look lovely today!”
Straightening up, I smooth Zoe’s green dress I retrieved from Brad after we got back together that last time. “Thank you, Grams. This is Gage.”
“Hello, Mrs. Cocker.”
Bright blue eyes narrow on him as she tilts her head left, then right. “You are even handsomer up close!”
His cheeks redden, much to my surprise. “And you, Mrs. Cocker, are just as charming and beautiful as Lexi told me you were.”
Her fragile, translucent hand reaches for his strong one. “Gage, I’m going to offer you a little warning. This one has fire in her blood.”
“Yes, Ma’am, I know.”
Grams’s blue eyes brighten even more. “I can see you do.” She pats his hand before releasing it. “Just don’t call her Alexis.”
Not in on the joke, Gage looks at me.
I cock an eyebrow. “Uh oh! Is there something you don’t know?”
His crocodiles narrow and he confides in her, “Your grand-daughter thinks I have a fear of not knowing things.”
“Great grand-daughter,” Grams corrects him.
He smirks, “Oh, she’s great alright.”
Not sure if that was sarcastic or genuine.
Hmm…
Chapter Twenty-Seven
GAGE
L exi’s computer genius cousin carries up a plate. “Grams, I’ve got you covered.”
“Aren’t you sweet, Ethan, Thank you!” With her hands comfortably clasped, the gentle-mannered centenarian waits for a plate of fried red potatoes, parmesan sprinkled corn-on-the-cob, and a crispy shrimp kabob, to be set before her.
I ask, knowing its legend, “No chili?”
“I’m afraid my stomach objects to beans these days.” She sighs. “Such a pity.”
“Mine never did,” Ethan offers, puffing his chest like a superhero. “But too bad, stomach! You’re gonna take a beating.”
“I don’t subject my body to what it doesn’t want, because…” Her blue eyes glitter, “I’m smarter than you are.”
The man of many patents laughs, and I’ve gotta admit, with his shaggy brown hair, blue jeans and bluer sneakers, plus a graphic t-shirt that reads ‘There is no roof’ — Ethan Cocker isn’t what I expected when Lexi showed me his mansion.
She reaches up to fix his hair, “My body has no problem with beans. Or legumes, as Paige always calls them.”
He swats her away. “Cut it out, Lex! I like my hair like this. Who’s the…wait. What did you call him, Grams?”
“Hunk!”
Ethan laughs, “Just wanted to hear you say it again.” He shakes my hand. “What’s your actual name, Hunk?”
“I’m Gage.” I give him a firm handshake. “Let’s drop the hunk, okay?”
“Nah! I think I’ll call you Hunk from now on.” Heading off, he shouts, “If you end up sticking around. Which I doubt.”
Lexi’s fire flares up and she almost calls him a name, but glancing to Grams, grits her teeth instead, “That wonderful human being.”
“That’s better, child.”
I chuckle, “Mrs. Cocker, you want to give me some lessons?”
“Time, Gage, time and consistency. That’s all anyone needs to know how to behave.”
The redhead at my side isn’t sure how she feels about this particular wisdom, grumbling, “I’m more hungry than I thought.”
So am I, now that I think about it. We had one hell of a morning and only some coffee on the way here. Meeting her extensive family distracted me. Didn’t expect such nice people.
I tip my head to her Grams. “If you’ll excuse us, Mrs. Cocker.”
She brightens, straightening up on her two pillows to beam at me, saying wistfully, “When you did that, I could almost see a fedora t
ipped on your head like they wore back in my day.” Her attention switches to something behind me and I turn my head to see Lexi’s grandfather, the ex-Congressman, carrying two plates that make my stomach growl.
There’s that chili I smelled in the kitchen and have heard so much about. Can’t wait.
But didn’t he know Ethan had this covered?
“Mom, can I get you more ginger-ale while I’m up?” He sets them down opposite his mother, and I realize Nancy Cocker — Grandma Nance, as they call her — is working her way over to him, brown eyes warmly checking in with her guests before she relaxes to eat. The extra plate is for her.
In my house, my mom always brought the plate to my dad.
“No, thank you, Michael,” Grams waves, “I have half a glass. Eat! Before it gets cold!”
He first greets me with a dignified, “We haven’t met. I’m Michael Cocker,” offering his hand, pale green eyes intense. This is a man who wrote laws and fought for them, and now it’s his family he fights for. He’s trying to see if I’m up to his granddaughter’s level.
“Gage Holbrook, sir, nice to meet you.” I shake his hand, aware of the feeling in my gut that says I am up to her level. In fact, I’m up for anything she gives me as long as she knows who I am. I have no doubt in myself. But I do in her opinion of me. That I’m not sure of. “Your house is very welcoming.”
“That’s a compliment for my wife.” He reaches out for her, “Nancy?” and she fits herself against his body, their arms slipping around each other. “Lexi’s hunk says you’ve made a welcoming home for me.”
Lexi covers her beautiful eyes with one hand. “Oh no!!!”
Nancy Cocker pretends to reproach the smirking centenarian. “Mom, look what you did!”
Big blue eyes ask, “What?”
“You know! Don’t play innocent with me. Hello. I’m Lexi’s grandmother.”
Hoping to return my dignity, Lexi introduces me, “This is Gage, Grandma Nance.”
“Now that’s a name!”
Lexi grumbles, “I think so, too,” wicked amusement behind the squint she throws at her grandfather. “If only people would use it!”
He sighs, “I’ll try to do better next time.”
“We were just about to get in line.”
I tip my head again. “We’ll leave you to your lunch. Nice meeting you both.”
Lexi Cocker (Cocker Brothers Book 25) Page 14
