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“I miss them all when they’re off island.” Not a lie. I’d be thrilled to hug Alice or Pax or Finn. But not this thrilled. Not itching to close the distance. To slip my fingers under that too-short-for-Mistyvale dress and revel in her sweet heat beneath.
“Sure,” she chirped, flicking her eyes up to me in a way that said, ‘how dumb do you think I am?’ and I wondered if Brex was right. Were we so terribly obvious that everyone noticed except for the two that needed to? “That why her eyes are locked on you like a homing beacon?”
I snapped my face toward the Rhodes siblings, wincing when Noel snickered.
“Gotcha!” she muttered. But she wasn’t wrong. El had eyes only for me, and I wondered how Jameson was still oblivious to how intently she kept looking back at me, making eye contact with Max and her brothers as they talked, only long enough to avoid being rude. Noel nudged my elbow and said, “Happy Thanksgiving, Brod.”
“Happy Thanksgiving,” I muttered back a beat before Noel closed the distance, launching herself into El’s arms right as they opened, drinks held out to either side like precarious little wings.
“Welcome home, Elly!”
Elora’s laugh was better than the rare peek of winter sunlight. “Hey, Skittles!”
“No, none of that,” Jameson growled firmly, shaking his head as the girls both burst out laughing. “You don’t get to call her that. That’s my thing. Exclusive. Not sharing. She’s my Skittles. You get Noelie-Bear or Bean or whatever shit you two concocted,” he said, pointing between El and Max and then pulling Noel back to him possessively. “Hey, man,” he added to Max as an afterthought.
Max gave him a cheerful salute, but his eyes locked on me with way too much understanding on his face, and my stomach bottomed out as he made a beeline in my direction.
“Professor! Good to see you. You got any more of that?” Max nodded to the whiskey in my hand before slinging an arm around my shoulders and rotating us toward the kitchen. “Have a feeling we’ll both need it.”
TWENTY
ELORA
“I’m so proud of you, Noel. That’s amazing!” I stirred the heaping skillet of apple pie filling, breathing in the sweet spices as Noel swirled her wine glass, leaning against the counter beside me. Noel and I had been working on her non-profit all year, and her calls and brainstorming sessions were some of my favorites.
“It’s just exciting to finally get going,” she said, but I didn’t have to glance up to hear the smile in her voice. “All the boring paperwork and startup stuff is done, and now we can really build on that foundation.”
“Absolutely,” I agreed, setting the wood spoon down on the edge of the steel pan. “You’re going to touch so many lives, babe.”
“Yeah?” she asked, not able to hide the hope in her voice.
“Yeah,” I assured, right as Jameson snaked his arms around her waist, stooping to kiss her neck. I grinned. Jameson had walls a mile high before she broke them down, and I loved seeing him so happy. Some petty part of me wondered if I was finally going to know what that felt like. Still grinning, I looked up to find Broderick, where he sat at the table, handing Max crust cut-outs of leaves and pumpkins so he could decorate our filled pies.
Jameson tugged Noel into his chest for a cute swaying hug dance to whatever Christmas music they had playing, and I flipped off the burner, grabbing my wine from the counter.
“Got room for one more?” I asked the crust decorating team of disgruntled men. There was a chorus of mehs, but Broderick’s eyes slowly dragged up my body, his lips quirking before he wet them. His nod was succinct. “Love the updates, Brod,” I noted as I pulled out a chair, raising my wine glass to motion to the surrounding room.
“Brightened it up a bit, I suppose,” he said humbly.
“More than a bit,” I countered. “It’s beautiful. Love the new countertops and that island is worth its weight in gold.”
“That might be an overestimate,” he chuckled, setting the tin cookie cutter aside and sliding the leaves over to Max, whose brow was furrowed with concentration. I hadn’t missed the two of them exchanging hushed words–like some clandestine pow wow–prior to Axel joining their lineup and made a note to interrogate one of them later.
“Hell no, did you see how many pies we could fit on there? That thing will pay for itself for years.”
His eyes dragged over my body before flitting to the expansive marble counter and back. “I can certainly think of some uses.”
My cheeks flamed, and I swirled my glass, if for nothing else than something to do. Lifting my chin and holding that smoldering gaze, I said, “I’d love a demonstration.”
“I’m sure you would.”
“Got anything specific in mind?” I asked innocently, smirking when Max scanned between us before he wrinkled his nose and returned to placing leaves around the rim of the pumpkin custard. There’d never been a part of my life the man wasn’t privy to, and as he’d had a conference play-by-play, he was my only chance for a sounding board this week. With mock scolding in my tone, I said, “When it comes to getting consistent results, details matter, Professor.”
He let his gaze drop over my body like a physical caress, and I squeezed my thighs together as the spring in my core wound tighter. We’d been dirty talking over text and on the phone all week, and at this point, a feather and a pretty promise would probably knock me right over the edge.
“Don’t insult me by insinuating I don’t account for the details, Rhodes.”
Incapable of suppressing my smile, I swirled my wine before taking a long pull. Axel, however, growled under his breath and scooted back from the table.
