Vivian Arend - Turn It On

“Happy Thanksgiving.” The nurses waved farewell, the scent of the special lunch meal hovering in the air of the nursing home.

“It feels strange to leave him there alone and go back to where all my family will gather.”

Ryan held the door open for her and they headed into the bright sunshine of the fall day. “He wouldn’t be happy joining us. Too many people, too much noise. Even if your family were smaller it wouldn’t work. He’s content where he is.”

She shrugged. It was all so different, trying to balance wanting to be with Ryan, meeting her family’s needs, and now learning more about Carl. She snuck her fingers into Ryan’s hand as they walked back to the car. “You’re a good brother to him.”

Ryan looked startled for a moment. “Thank you.”

She grabbed him by the sleeve. “No, I mean it. I understand more why you hesitated to tell me about him. He’s a very special person, and I do have a hard time remembering he can’t just jump in and join us in the family events.” She leaned against him and kissed him, lingering over the now-familiar flavor of his lips. “You’ve done your best to care for him. He doesn’t say thank you, but I know he would if he understood all you’ve done.”

Ryan held her close, his hands tight on her torso. She rested her cheek on his chest and drew in a long slow breath. The day so far had given her plenty to be thankful about.

They made it back to the house barely thirty minutes before the first of the horde arrived. She hugged her cousins, kissed her aunties and avoided Uncle Maxible, whose aftershave made her nose twitch. Gramma was taken on a thorough inspection of the house, clinging all the while to Ryan’s arm as she admired the changes Maxine had made. After the initial questioning glances at Ryan were over, murmurs of approval rose as he plied his charm on all the relatives. A warm feeling built inside Maxine’s heart.

Wandering toward the front door, she jerked to a stop.

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

She stared in disbelief as Jamie Daultry made his way up the stairs in the company of her cousin Maximilian. While Jamie’s impressive good looks hadn’t changed, she wondered why she’d continued to see him after their first date. Looks were all he had going for him because he was obviously lacking brains. What kind of jerk would show up at a Thanksgiving dinner with his ex-girlfriend’s family?

Scads of relatives wandered the house, children shrieking with delight as they raced around outside on the porch. Maxine glanced to see where Ryan had disappeared to before approaching to cut Jamie off at the pass.

“Maxine! So nice of you to offer to host this year.” Maximilian dropped an air kiss by her cheek and stepped around her into the house.

He was not one of her favorite cousins to start with. She’d always found his boastful mannerisms over the top, and having seen him escort Jamie up the walk eliminated any positive familial sentiment she might have had before this moment. She jerked his sleeve, pulling him to face her. “Mill, what the hell is going on?”

“You know Jamie, right? We’re doing some business together and I discovered he was planning on spending Thanksgiving alone. I didn’t think you’d mind, so I invited him to join us. You know the clan motto—the maximum the merrier.” Her cousin winked at Jamie over her shoulder and Maxine heated with anger.

She didn’t want to have anything to do with either of them, especially Jamie. Lowering her voice she spoke directly at her cousin. “You should have asked, Mill. This is going to be awkward as hell.” She dragged a hand through her hair and took a deep breath.

“Maxi, you look wonderful.” She found her hand clasped in Jamie’s as he approached closer. She took a fast step backward to avoid his embrace.

Something solid hit her and she gave a startled cry. Familiar arms caught her around the waist and the spicy scent of Ryan’s presence eased her anxiety. He twirled her around and planted a firm kiss on her lips as he molded their bodies together. Forgetting where she was for a moment, she responded eagerly. She relaxed, drinking in his flavor, enjoying the possessive stroke of his hands. He was all she was aware of, all she could focus on. With a final lingering touch he stepped away, brushed a finger over her kiss-swollen lips and winked at her. “We need to take out the turkeys soon. The stuffing is more than ready.”

She cleared her throat in embarrassment. The glint in his eyes said he was remembering their morning interlude. The heat of her blush covered her face and he smiled lazily. She hit his chest lightly. “Be nice,” she murmured.

He raised a brow. “I thought I was more than nice.” Glancing over her shoulder, he tilted his head at the newcomers as if he’d just spotted them. “Hello. More family?” he asked as he tucked her under his arm.

Maxine fought the urge to roll her eyes, instantly reminded of dogs marking their territory. She clamped a lid on her laughter before it burst out. Leaning back comfortably, she settled against Ryan’s torso before making introductions. “Ryan, this is Maximilian and Jamie. Guys, meet Ryan Claymore, my…” Shit. What should she call him—boyfriend? Lover? One was too juvenile, the other too risqué for this crowd, no matter how much truth there was in the statement.

Ryan reached around her to clasp Jamie’s hand in his firm grip. Jamie’s eyes almost popped out his head, a grimace appearing on his perfect brow. Maxine nudged Ryan in the side. “Hey, stop the pissing match. You don’t need to break anything,” she whispered. He released his hold slowly, making a show of placing his now free hand casually on Maxine’s hip, his thumb caressing under the edge of her blouse.

Maximilian gaped openly at Ryan. “Your what?” He spun around to glare at Jamie. “You told me you were—”

“I hear the turkeys calling us,” Ryan interrupted, tugging Maxine toward the kitchen. “You boys look big enough to get yourself a drink if you want one. We’ll see you at the table when everything is ready.” He wove through the crowd of bodies, clutching her hand tightly until they were back in the kitchen amidst the bustle of serving spoons and heaping full bowls of mashed potatoes and stuffing.

“What’s come over you?” Maxine asked quietly as they slipped past Auntie Maxence, who stirred the gravy with a vengeance. “Ryan!”

He pulled her into the pantry and firmly closed the door after them. Then she couldn’t speak anymore, couldn’t breathe. He consumed her, his tongue demanding access to her mouth, plunging her into a maelstrom of passion with barely an effort. As he trapped her against the back of the door, his rising erection pressed into her belly and heat spread throughout her body.

This was insane. There were close to sixty family members ranging throughout her house, including her sweet Gramma, and she was allowing herself to be ravished in the kitchen pantry. She put her hands on his chest and gave a firm push, reluctant to have his mouth depart from hers, but frantic to stop before they were discovered necking like horny teenagers.

“Stop. What is your problem?”

He stepped back and crossed his arms casually across his chest. “You neglected to warn me your ex-lover was a dead ringer for Orlando Bloom.”

She snorted in disbelief. “This is because you’ve got a case of elf envy? Trust me, he’s nothing compared to you. He’s got the looks, but you’ve got the moves.” Ryan’s grin lit up the small room. “Now can we please go make nice with the family without you killing anyone?”

He wrinkled his face, like he was considering hard, and she hit him in the gut.

Laughing like conspirators, they snuck out to join the throng.