“You should come to my house for Thanksgiving,” Ford stated, folding his arms across his chest like he was expecting me to go on the offensive. When I didn’t respond right away, he kind of shuffled his feet like maybe he was nervous. “I mean it’s just me and my mom, and we never cook a big meal or anything. But I don’t want you to be alone. Maybe we could cook a traditional Thanksgiving meal this year, you know, since it will probably be my mom’s last…” He trailed off, and how could I refuse that?
“Okay, I think that’s a great idea. I’ll do all the cooking.”
Ford nodded and mumbled “Good night” as he walked down the steps. First he insisted on walking me to my door, and now he couldn’t seem to get away fast enough. The guy was a mystery. A moody intense mystery.
Chapter Six
Ford
Monday night at the pub was slow, which was to be expected during the week of Thanksgiving. I was wiping off the bar when Lindsay came in and sat at the end of the bar. She started spreading out a bunch of pamphlets in front of her. Lindsay was Grady’s girlfriend and had moved here this past summer from New York City. Apparently they had a thing five years ago, but broke up when she went back home.
I knew from Grady that she was planning on going back to the city for the holiday - alone, and he wasn’t exactly thrilled about it. Not that I could blame him. The last time she went home, she didn’t come back for five years.
After setting an ice water down in front of her, I returned to drying glasses and checking inventory. About half an hour later, Leah joined her. It must be a girls’ night out thing. I briefly considered introducing them to Poppy. It didn’t seem like she had many friends, except for the redhead who might as well have TROUBLE tattooed on her forehead.
Lost in my thoughts I walked down to take Leah’s and Lindsay’s orders and didn’t hear what they were talking about until Leah said, “Or maybe Grady just has super sperm.”
Shit, Leah! I clapped my hands over my ears and turned away, mumbling, “Jesus Christ, Leah!” She was a good and loyal friend, but the mouth on that girl made me uncomfortable on a regular basis.
Once I was sure it was safe to return, I took their orders and served their food when it was ready. Thankfully they didn’t further involve me in their conversations and left soon after they finished eating. It was only 7:00. This was going to be a long night.
Not much more than an hour later, Grady rolled in looking more than a little rough around the edges. “Gimme a shot of whiskey…better make it three,” he said, sitting down at the bar and dropping his head into his hands.
“Uh…okay. Lindsay was in here earlier with Leah,” I mentioned.
His head came up and his gaze sharpened. “How was she? Did she seem pissed? Or sad? What did they talk about?”
What the fuck? Did I just travel back in time to sixth grade…and turn into a girl?
“I don’t know, man. She seemed fine to me. I try not to listen to their conversations.” I sure as hell wasn’t going to mention that they were talking about his sperm.
Grady downed the three shots I set in front of him and dropped his head back down.
“She was supposed to come over tonight, but she made some lame excuse about being tired. Fuck, she can be tired at my house…I think she’s going to leave me again.”
As a bartender it was assumed I would listen to my customers’ endless whining about their problems. In reality, nothing could be farther from the truth. With scowls and grunts I was able to avoid most conversations that didn’t involve drink or food orders. But this was Grady, my best friend since I was five years old.
“No way, man. She’s not leaving you. And if she tries, then don’t let her. You guys have been through too much to get here. You’re meant to be.” Christ, did I really just say that? But it seemed to help.
“Yeah, you’re right. She’s coming by the shop in the morning before she gets on the road. I will make sure she understands we are forever.”
Phew, crisis averted. Grady ordered a burger and hung around for a while longer. I thought he was going to fall off his bar stool when I started talking about the game that was on that night. However, he quickly recovered and we spent a while debating Jets or Giants.
*****
The last few years my mom and I had treated Thanksgiving like any other day. My mom just didn’t feel up to cooking a big meal, and I certainly wasn’t going to do it. That was before Poppy Mitchell entered our lives. When I found out that Poppy was planning on spending Thanksgiving alone, I couldn’t stop myself from asking her to join us. As soon the words were out of my mouth, I immediately regretted them.
It’s not that I didn’t want to spend time with Poppy. I did, and that was the problem. She had somehow wiggled her way behind my defenses, and I had talked to her about things I’d never spoken aloud to anyone else, even myself.
Poppy made me think about things in a different way. First with my mom’s illness and showing me that it was a blessing to have this time to say goodbye. Then last weekend when I learned about her dream to go to Cornell. It was a reminder that I wasn’t the only one in the world who had broken dreams, but I might be the only one still wallowing in self-pity three years later.
Poppy didn’t give up when she couldn’t go to her dream school. Instead she worked two jobs and went to a different school, so she could still accomplish her end goal of becoming a doctor.
Ultimately, I suggested this Thanksgiving dinner because it would be the last one with my mom, and because I didn’t want Poppy to be alone, which is how I found myself at the grocery store with a list a mile long on Thanksgiving morning. Number one on my list was a turkey. How the fuck was I supposed to find a turkey on Thanksgiving morning? Fortunately there was one turkey left. Unfortunately it was large enough to feed a small country.
My cart was almost overflowing by the time I reached the checkout line. We’d better have leftovers for a week, because I was blowing my grocery budget out of the water here.
“Hey, dude,” I heard a familiar voice say from behind me. I paused in the act of loading my groceries on the belt to bump fists with Josh. Unlike me, he only had three things in his basket.
“Are you cooking for the whole town?” He asked, looking at my cart.
“Seems like it, but no. There will only be three of us eating all this.”
“Three? Who’s the third?” Josh asked.
I didn’t answer right away and continued unloading my cart. I hadn’t told any of my friends about Poppy, not that there was anything to tell. Other than the fact that she was my mom’s home health aide, and quickly becoming something more than that to me.
“My mom’s aide is alone for Thanksgiving, so she’s eating with us,” I explained, hoping he would take it at face value. I should have known better. Josh was almost as bad as his wife, Leah, when it came to sticking his nose in my business.
“Seriously? That’s kind of weird. Wait, what does this aide look like and how old is she? If you’re here buying all this food for a holiday you normally don’t celebrate, I’m guessing she’s young and hot.”
He was right about that, but I wasn’t in the mood for talking about Poppy with him. I just gave him a look that effectively ended the conversation. Instead Josh started bitching about Grady leaving him with all the work in their boat repair shop. Apparently Grady made a last minute decision to accompany Lindsay to New York City for Thanksgiving.
When I arrived back at home, Poppy’s car wasn’t in its usual spot. She better get here soon, because I wasn’t going to start the cooking myself. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.
Grabbing all six grocery bags, including the one with the fifteen pound turkey, I went inside and kicked the door shut behind me. There was music playing, not something my mom would ever listen to, and I heard Poppy’s off-key voice singing along. Walking into the kitchen I saw her trying to reach a pan off the top shelf. She was barefoot and up on her tiptoes, her fingertips just barely grabbing onto the side of the
pan. Being quite a bit taller I could see that if she pulled it out any farther the other two pans stacked on top would come crashing down on her head.
If it wasn’t for that fact I would have stayed quiet and enjoyed the view for another minute. Her jeans hugged her ass, and her t-shirt rode up to reveal a small sliver of skin along her lower back. Just barely peeking out the top of her jeans was a scrap of black lace. Based on her normal wardrobe of jeans and t-shirts, I wouldn’t have figured her for the slutty underwear kind, and I was definitely intrigued.
Setting the bags down on the floor I stepped right up behind her. I grabbed the pile of pans just before they dropped off the shelf. Poppy clearly hadn’t heard me approach, because she squealed and jumped backward smack into me. I wrapped my other arm around her waist to steady her and set the pans on the counter.
“Easy, it’s just me.”
I was reluctant to let her go. The length of her body pressed up against mine felt really good, but I had no viable reason to keep holding onto her. So, I backed up just far enough that she could turn around to face me.
“God, Ford! You scared me,” she scolded me. Her hair was loose today and fell in soft waves around her shoulders. It was dark brown, but when the sun hit it just right, there were streaks of auburn as well. I needed to back up even farther before I did something completely inappropriate.
I took two steps back and held up my hands in surrender. “Hey, I was just trying to help. You would’ve knocked yourself out with those pans if I hadn’t been here.”
She rolled her eyes, not impressed with my coming to her rescue.
“Where’s your car? I didn’t see it outside,” I said.
“It died. I think it’s just the battery though…I hope,” she said, stepping around me to pick up the grocery bags.
“I can take a look at it later, if you want,” I offered, because I didn’t like the idea of her walking around town by herself.
“Um, okay. That would be great.” She turned to face me, her expression serious. “I hope you’re okay with me being here today. Your mom was really insistent, and I don’t mind doing all the cooking…but I don’t want to intrude on your time with your mom, especially around the holidays.” Poppy dropped her eyes to the ground.
It’s true I wasn’t the most forthcoming with my feelings, and that was an understatement, but I was actually glad she was here with us. Today and in general. It didn’t escape me that this would be my mom’s last Thanksgiving. Without Poppy here, we would have been doing the same old thing we did every year, which was essentially nothing.
I stepped back toward her, too close for my comfort, but I couldn’t help myself. Tucking her hair behind her ear, I allowed my fingertips to trail along her jaw. “I’m glad you’re here, Poppy.”
She smiled, and her hazel eyes flickered to my mouth. Uh oh, I know that look. I got that look plenty from drunk girls at the pub. It was easy to ignore them, unless I was feeling like losing myself for the night. Poppy was not easy to ignore, and I had the feeling one night wouldn’t be enough with her. She wasn’t the kind of girl who did meaningless flings, and I didn’t think I was capable of more than that.
“If you need help, ask my mom,” I said, making my cowardly escape to the family room.
Because the turkey I found was so big, it would be late in the evening before we would eat. I spent the afternoon watching football while my mom and Poppy worked in the kitchen, occasionally breaking to bring out snacks and watch the game for a while. My mom almost fell over when she saw what I was watching. She didn’t say anything, but I could tell she was pleasantly surprised. Another surprise for her was when Poppy asked endless questions about the rules of football, the teams and made comments on the colors of the uniforms. Even more shocking was that I answered her questions. It felt good to be talking about the game I loved again.
During the commercial I scrolled through my phone and saw I had a new e-mail from my coach at LSU. He e-mailed me every few months to check in. Even though I never responded, he kept it up. Usually he just sent a few lines about how this year’s team was doing, but today’s was simply wishing me a happy holiday. It was long past time I replied, so I sent back a quick e-mail wishing him the same. My mom would be proud that I had done something nice. His e-mail from a few weeks ago telling me about the coaching job still sat unanswered in my inbox.
It was after 7:00 by the time we sat down for dinner. There was a ridiculous amount of food on the table, and it all looked delicious. We joined hands, and my mom said grace. It was a simple and to the point prayer, and I found myself wishing it was longer so I could keep holding onto Poppy’s hand.
Before I could dig into my food, my mom stopped me and said, “We’ve never done this before, but I would like for us to each say what we’re thankful for. I’ll start. I’m thankful for this wonderful meal, the life I have lived…and most of all I am thankful for my son.”
My mom kept it short and sweet, because she knew even that would make me uncomfortable. Which it did, but I was determined not to let it show.
I cleared my throat. “I’m thankful for this time we have together.” That was the only thing I could think to say. My mom patted my arm, and I glanced at Poppy. She smiled and blinked back tears. Well, shit.
My mom turned her attention to Poppy, waiting for what she was thankful for.
“I’m thankful for my family, even if they make me a little crazy. I’m thankful for being included in your family today…and I’m thankful for new friends.” She looked right at me as she said these last words, and I couldn’t look away from her sweet eyes even if I wanted to.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw my mom watching us with a smile. “Well, let’s dig in. We have a lot of food to eat tonight.”
After dinner, my mom left us to go to bed early. She gave strict instructions for Poppy to relax and watch TV while I did all the clean up. It took me a good forty-five minutes to wrap up all the leftovers, figure out how to dispose of the turkey carcass and wash all the dishes.
Poppy had been lying on the couch watching some girly movie, but she sat up when I came into the family room.
“I should be getting home,” she said.
“We can watch the rest of the movie, and then I’ll drive you home,” I suggested. This was the first time we had been alone today, and I wasn’t ready to let her go yet. Even if I wasn’t going to push her down on the couch and kiss her like I wanted to, I wanted to just be near her. She seemed to have the ability to calm me with just her presence. When she was around, I wasn’t so angry and depressed.
“Um…okay. If you’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” I said definitively, sitting down beside her, close but not too close. Just like the other night at her mom’s house, I stretched my arms along the back of the couch and put my feet up on the coffee table. Poppy drew her feet up under her and angled herself towards me to see the TV better.
We watched the movie together in silence. Actually she watched the movie and I watched her out of the corner of my eye. After a while she relaxed and leaned her head back against my arm, her soft hair tempting me to run my fingers through it. I felt like I was in middle school, sitting next to a girl I liked for the first time. I was hyper aware of the few inches of space between us, her soft breathing and my inevitable reaction to her closeness. Hoping she didn’t notice I was turned on just by sitting next to her, I risked a glance in her direction.
Her eyes were closed with her dark lashes casting shadows across her cheeks. A strand of hair had fallen across her forehead, and I gently brushed it to the side. She didn’t move. Awesome. Here I was with a hard on just from sitting next to her, and she was asleep. Obviously she wasn’t having the same reaction to me.
Now what was I supposed to do? I could wake her up and take her home…or…I could make her more comfortable and let her sleep here…with me. I never said I was a saint.
I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and stretched out on the couch, pulling her down wi
th me. She stirred slightly, rolling halfway on top of me and throwing one leg over both of mine. Oh, God. This was heaven and torture at the same time. How long could I stay in a constant state of arousal, I wondered. Because with one of her hands on my chest and her warm breath on my neck, I didn’t see my situation changing anytime soon.
At twenty five years old, I had never had a serious relationship. When I was playing football, I just never had the time. And since, I hadn’t been interested in more than the occasional night with a beautiful girl. Let’s be honest, I haven’t exactly been Mr. Personality.
I’m not saying I wanted to get into something serious with Poppy, but it was the first time ever that I was able to enjoy just “snuggling” with a girl and not care if it went any farther. Don’t get me wrong, if she woke up and attacked me I would be all for it. But I really liked just lying here with her.
I placed one hand over hers on my chest and ran the other through her hair and down her back. Over and over until I finally drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Seven
Poppy
This wasn’t my first sexy dream, but they had never felt so real before. I rocked my hips against something solid and fisted my hand in the sheets. Wait. That’s not the sheets I’m holding onto. It’s Fords shirt. And I just rubbed up against his leg. My eyes flew open as I remembered where I was.
I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized he was asleep. At least he didn’t know I was humping his leg. Then I became aware of my leg draped over him and his hands - one in my hair, holding my head against his shoulder, and the other on my ass. How did we get like this? I wondered. And how was I supposed to get untangled from Ford without waking him up.
The mature thing to do would be to wake him up and ask him to take me home. But that would bring attention to our current positions, and I didn’t want him to think I was trying to put the moves on him. The other option would be to slip away like a coward and walk home.
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