Keep It Classy

by Vale, Lani Lynn

  “My grandmother isn’t the one hosting the Thanksgiving, though. My uncle is. He has the biggest house, and he’s in Waskom near the Shreveport/Texas border, not at the lake,” I explained.

  He nodded. “Even better, because my parents are up from Arkansas staying with my sister who lives in Hallsville.”

  My brows rose. “You have a sister?”

  He nodded. “Two of them. One’s two years older than me, and one’s two years younger. The younger one, Mariel, lives in Dallas. She’s probably not going to come down because her husband’s family usually gets her holidays, not us. Lauriel lives here. She’s married and has no kids, and no plans on ever having kids.”

  My brows rose. “Really? No plans ever?”

  He shrugged. “They’re odd ducks. They were both in the military and retired right at the same time. I think they enjoy the lifestyle of being able to get up and go. The only kid they liked was…” He trailed off.

  My brows rose. “The only kid they liked?”

  He swallowed hard, his shoulders suddenly stiff as he stared at the turkey in my sink.

  “When I was with my ex-wife, she was given custody of her nephew. He was about a year old when he came to live with us.” He clenched his fists. “But we’d known him well before that. He was my little buddy. And the cutest little kid ever. My parents and family loved the hell out of him.”

  “And she didn’t allow you visitation in the divorce…” I guessed.

  Castiel shook his head.

  I took his non-answer as answer enough. His ex-wife had really screwed him over.

  Needless to say, when we arrived at his parents’ house, every single one of them was suspicious of me.

  When I was introduced to them all, it was surprisingly the sister that said, “Hey, isn’t your dad the racer? Aren’t you one, too?”

  I blushed profusely and would’ve done a nervous hair tuck behind my ear had my arms not been loaded down with groceries.

  “Um, yes,” I answered. “That’s me. Hooch. Turner Hooch.”

  Did I just introduce myself like James Bond?

  What the absolute fuck, Turner?

  Castiel walked past me into the kitchen.

  Castiel’s parents, as well as Lauriel and her husband, who’d introduced himself as Avner of all things, all continued to stare at me.

  When Lauriel broke off to go into the kitchen, I winced when I heard her say, “Another rich one, Cassie? Really?”

  Avner, Castiel’s mom—Judith—and Castiel’s dad—Ciel—both looked at me with worry plain on their faces.

  Holy shit. What was this?

  What had I walked into?

  “Umm.” I juggled the turkey. “Where do you want me to put this?”

  It was Ciel who pointed at the counter. “You can put it there. But we don’t need another turkey to fry.”

  I thought about just turning around and walking straight out of the house and back to my truck to, I don’t know, drive like a bat out of hell out of here, but Castiel stopped me in my tracks by his words.

  “I told her she could come over here and we’d cook it. The oil will already be hot, and it won’t take but a couple of minutes,” Castiel interrupted my inner musings. “Now, stop acting like assholes.”

  “It’ll take like forty minutes,” Avner said. “Not a couple. And I’m not acting like an asshole.”

  “You’re staring at her like she’s an interloper in your domain,” Castiel countered.

  Lauriel crossed her arms over her chest and leaned her hips against the counter. “Well, she is.”

  My arms were starting to ache, but there was no way in hell that I was walking in there without first knowing whether I was truly welcome.

  I could take my turkey back home and cook it on high before I was subjected to a Thanksgiving that I wasn’t welcome at.

  But, when Castiel moved, taking the turkey from me and setting it on the counter, I knew that he wouldn’t be waiting.

  I’d be staying, because taking one look at Castiel’s face? I knew that he was pissed.

  “Stop messing around, you’re making her feel unwelcome,” Castiel ordered, turning back to the room and me.

  His eyes went to my face, and he stiffened even further.

  I tried to wipe away my discomfort, tried to hide it, but it was very plain on my face and I was shit at hiding my emotions.

  Avner walked to the counter and took a look at the bird. “How much does this one weigh?”

  Castiel’s eyes once again cut to me.

  I opened my mouth and then closed it. “I searched for a fourteen-pound bird.”

  “You’re not sure on the exact weight?” Castiel asked.

  I shook my head. “No. I could go back home and look in the trash.”

  And never come back.

  Castiel likely understood what would happen if he sent me home because he shook his head immediately. “We’ll make do.”

  “If you burn down my garage because you don’t know what you’re cooking, she’s paying for it,” Lauriel exclaimed.

  That was when I stiffened even further.

  I wasn’t going to be able to do this.

  But then Lauriel laughed and walked to the sink, washing her hands.

  “I don’t have any butter injector for this one, either,” Ciel mentioned. “We’ll have to make some up really quick like we did last year when Lauriel couldn’t find it.”

  Castiel walked up to my side and pulled me into his chest, dropping his mouth to my ear.

  “They’re really good people,” he said. “They’re protective of me, and the last time I brought someone home, she tore my heart out and stomped on it. Give them a little bit of time to get used to you.”

  And I tried to remind myself of those words at least once every five minutes over the next hour.

  At first, I’d tried to go outside and be with Castiel. However, that didn’t work out because in the last hour, a cold front had barreled its way through the town, and since I was without a coat, I was forced to go inside, despite Castiel offering me his coat.

  There was no way in hell I was taking his coat, though, because it was more than obvious that he needed it since he was the one out there cooking.

  Meaning I’d gone inside and offered to help Judith and Lauriel.

  They’d snubbed me, telling me to find a seat at the bar and not ‘worry about trying to help.’

  So that was where I sat for the next long while, listening to them talk to each other and completely ignore me.

  And, since I wasn’t rude like they were, I’d left my phone in the vehicle, purposefully trying to make a good impression.

  Turns out, I needn’t have bothered. No matter what I did or how hard I tried, no good impressions would be happening today.

  “It’s just that Castiel seems to have a habit of bringing home rich women with problems,” Lauriel said snottily. “What’s your problem?”

  At first, I wasn’t sure that she was talking to me.

  I’d gone into a weird sort of trance where my mind was disconnected from my physical body.

  Therefore, it took Lauriel saying, “Are you going to answer me?”

  I blinked, making my mind focus on her, and said, “I’m sorry. Could you repeat your question?”

  She did, and I felt my hands clench in my lap.

  I thought about what she’d asked.

  Was I a rich woman with a problem?

  Maybe.

  But I wasn’t truly rich.

  And though I had problems, I didn’t think that they were problem enough to need Castiel to fix them.

  I just needed time to get through it. To get over the pain.

  And I would, meaning that Castiel wouldn’t have anything he needed to fix when it came to me.

  That was when Castiel barreled into the room, kicking the door that separated the kitchen from the living room open with his foot, my fried turkey in a pan that h
e was holding in front of him.

  He looked pissed as hell, and like he’d like to rip his sister a new asshole.

  I instantly felt soothed by his anger. I knew that he heard what his sister had said. I also knew that he didn’t only like me because I needed to be fixed.

  “We’re leaving,” he announced.

  His mother instantly stiffened.

  “Castiel,” she said. “We never get to see yo—”

  “You should’ve thought about that before you pissed me off,” he muttered. “I understand why you’re doing this, but Turner is not my ex. Not even close. And you probably just ruined the one good chance you’d ever have at making a good impression. Congrats.”

  Instead of putting the pan down on the counter, Castiel jutted his chin out at me. “Let’s go.”

  I immediately stood up, not one to argue with a pissed off man. Definitely not one to argue with a man that was doing something that I really, really wanted to do.

  Today had been godawful.

  Truly, if there was a worst meet-the-parents encounter, I’d aced it.

  “Grab my fuckin’ sweet tea out of the fridge on your way out of the garage,” he ordered as we passed.

  “But what are we going to drink?” Lauriel asked, sounding pissed, too.

  “You can drink goddamn water out of the motherfuckin’ tap,” he said. “Sorry for your bad luck.”

  Then he was ushering me out the door and through the garage where Avner and Ciel were standing around the turkey fryer, lowering another turkey in.

  Ciel looked up at our abrupt exit from the house, and Avner stiffened.

  “Are you sure you want me to grab the tea?” I asked.

  “Fuck yeah, I’m sure,” he said. “I paid seven dollars a gallon for that shit. I’m not leaving it for those ungrateful assholes. My dad and brother-in-law drink beer.”

  Biting my lip, I opened the fridge and somehow managed to grab all five of the gallons of tea and immediately started hurrying toward the truck.

  Once I got there, I set them all on the ground and stood back up, hurriedly yanking the door open and placing all five gallons onto the floorboard.

  Once I was finished, I backed away, leaving the door open for him to put my turkey on the seat.

  It was as I was glancing over the bed of the truck that I saw a familiar black sedan. At least, one that was similar to the one that I continued to see at the campgrounds parked around the area.

  There was nobody in it, however, so I decided that it likely wasn’t the same one, but it sure looked similar.

  A shout of voices had me turning to see Castiel pushing the turkey onto one forearm and bending down to fiddle with the turkey fryer. Both his father and Avner were glaring at the house as if something had set them off and they were trying to decide whether to go in there and do something or stay where they were.

  Castiel didn’t spare them another glance as he walked down the driveway.

  He looked like a pissed off avenging angel, and I couldn’t help the excited shiver that skittered through my belly.

  He was so hot. Even way the hell pissed off.

  When he got to me, he placed the turkey on the seat, slammed the door closed, then opened my door.

  It wasn’t until I was safely ensconced in my seat, and he was in his, that he spoke.

  “What else did they say to you?” he asked, trying to sound calm.

  He wasn’t calm. Not at all.

  I could tell based on the tick in his jaw.

  “I’m not in need of a woman that needs fixing,” he said. “I know that you’re put together. Sure, you’ve had a few bad days, but that’s not my kink.”

  I felt my lips twitch. “What drew me to you wasn’t your need for me, but your need for speed.”

  That’s what had me laughing my ass off.

  “What was it you did to the turkey fryer as you walked past it?” I asked, sensing that he was okay now.

  Or as okay as he was going to get given the circumstances.

  He grinned then.

  “I turned it up to high. It’ll burn the oil before they realize it’s too high, and then the rest of the turkeys will be gross,” he said, sounding unapologetic.

  I found myself grinning for the first time in hours.

  “That’s evil, Cas,” I teased.

  He shrugged and started to drive, not saying another word as he took me to my family’s place.

  It was an hour and a half early, but I decided that it wouldn’t matter.

  Someone would be there.

  But I was wrong.

  Someone wasn’t there when we got there. Everyone was.

  Literally, everyone.

  Which never happened. Usually, I was one of the first to arrive, and everyone else showed up later. Walking in the door just as dinner was being served.

  I watched from the truck as my uncle brought in a smoked turkey, and my aunt brought in an obviously baked one, and shook my head.

  “I just want to go home,” I whispered. “Can we go home?”

  Castiel’s hand tightened on mine.

  “We can have fried turkey and macaroni,” he said. “And I brought some rolls from a Texas Roadhouse fundraiser. I have like eighteen dozen of those bitches. We’ll have a good Thanksgiving feast by ourselves. You can even invite your brother.”

  I shook my head. “My brother texted me while I was with your mom and sister. I didn’t get it until we got into the car. He left. Something about a mission gone wrong, and he had to go and he was sorry.”

  Castiel sighed. “Your dad?”

  I looked down at my hands. “He’s gone, too. He started driving home. He said that that was never really his family, and they probably won’t miss him anyway.”

  “Then we’re good,” he said. “We’ll start making our new Thanksgiving tradition. I have five gallons of sweet tea, macaroni, and rolls. The turkey is fried. We’re fucking golden.”

  I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer.

  Then I threw myself at him.

  “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” I said into his neck. “But thank you.”

  It was that night, as we were both lying in bed, that the truth finally hit me.

  Why Castiel had pushed so hard in the beginning.

  He didn’t want to be treated like shit by another rich woman. He didn’t want to fall for someone that was just going to break his heart in the end.

  Yet…he’d still been there for me. Still given me everything that I needed despite his misgivings.

  And, looking at him sleeping, his breathing steady and his eyelashes fanned lightly over the tops of his cheeks, I realized that it only made me love him more.

  It also made me determined to never treat him like she had.

  “I have to move my RV tomorrow,” I murmured. “There’s a four-month long-term limit at the park, and I’ve exceeded it by two weeks,” I said into the darkness. “Do you happen to know how to drive an RV?”

  I’d had to beg Jubilee’s husband, Zee, to do it last time.

  He’d do it again, but why ask when Castiel might be able to do it?

  “I think I can manage,” he mentioned. “I used to drive tanks.” He paused. “Where are you going with it?”

  I thought about that.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I was going to park it next to Dad’s for a while, but then he left and I don’t really like that campground. I’m going to have to look around.”

  “How about you just park it here…and move in.”

  There was a long silence for a beat. Then two.

  Before I said, “Did you just ask me to move in with you?”

  He pulled me in tight.

  “I did.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked. “Because it’s not been very long…”

  “I’m not telling you to sell your RV. And I have a hookup for it near the barn. You can park it here, hook it up, and use
it. But just stay your nights with me,” he explained. “And…stay.”

  I thought about it for too short of a time before saying, “Okay.”

  Chapter 17

  I need a stiff dick. And no, I didn’t mean a stiff drink.

  -Text from Turner to Castiel

  Turner

  At first, I was convinced that moving in was the exact right decision.

  It would be great. I’d sleep in his bed at night. Then, during the daylight hours when I had to work, I could go to the RV and do that, then go to the funeral home, and just come back to Castiel’s house.

  It would be perfect.

  I was absolutely convinced when I woke up halfway through the night to Castiel fitting his cock to my entrance and sliding inside of me.

  This would be awesome!

  I moaned into Castiel’s neck as he moved over me—in me. “You feel so good.”

  He didn’t reply with his mouth. He thrust into me hard, letting me know that he heard me, causing me to moan all over again.

  “I like it hard,” I told him.

  He pulled back and dropped his mouth to my cheekbone, skimming his lips along it as he returned to his slow, even thrusts.

  And five minutes later, when I was coming on his cock and he was coming right along with me, I knew that waking up to this would be the best thing in the world.

  That my decision to do this was the right one.

  And in the morning, when both Castiel and his guitar were gone, I wondered if maybe I’d made a mistake. If maybe telling him I’d move in was a bad idea.

  Because normally when people lived with each other like we did now, they told each other where they went. They gave a ‘hey, I’m going. I’ll be back in a few.’

  Except I got nothing from Cas. When he got back, he acted like he hadn’t been gone.

  But what he also acted like was happy to see me.

  “Where did you go?” I asked as I folded laundry.

  My laundry and his.

  I’d gone and gotten mine from his bedroom floor and stolen one of his shirts to change into. I’d also found a pair of his sweatpants in the dresser, and I’d had to roll them up so many times that they were uncomfortable as hell. That, and they were tight on my ass, reminding me that he was skinnier than me, which then pissed me off all over again and made me have second doubts about moving in with him only a week after we’d really started to get along.