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“So Thanksgiving dinner it is.”
“Thanksgiving dinner it is. With the et al.”
Rafe’s hand slipped around to her nape and he coaxed her close to him again, giving her one of his slow, hot, deep, wet kisses. The kind she felt all the way to her toes.
Chapter Thirteen
Jenna made yet another life-altering decision/commitment on her flight to San Francisco Thanksgiving morning.
Rafe had inspired her by coming to her in Texas. She’d realized that she’d done to her sister Linney what he’d always done to her—expecting Linney to seek her out when it was actually a two-way street. Why couldn’t Jenna go to Linney?
She’d had Wi-Fi available on her flight, so Jenna had conducted an extensive search and had located Linney Scarsdale, still in San Francisco. She owned an independent bookstore in the Embarcadero. Jenna had also been able to track down her home address.
She found the apartment building on California Street, off Filmore. Jenna couldn’t help but lament the close proximity Linney was to Rafe’s Aunt Vesta in Pacific Heights. Her sister had been under her nose this whole time.
Pulling in a few calming breaths, she left the car and crossed the street. She rang the buzzer for Linney’s apartment and awaited a response, her heart in her throat, her stomach churning. Sure, dropping by unannounced would be a bit of a shock to her sister’s system. And there was a good chance Linney wouldn’t even be around on Thanksgiving. But intuition told Jenna this was the time and this was the place to reconnect with her sister.
Linney’s voice finally came over the intercom. “Yes?”
Jenna’s heart took on a staccato beat. She couldn’t speak.
“Hello?” Linney inquired. “Someone there?”
“Um, yes,” Jenna choked out.
“Do you have the wrong apartment? Who are you looking for?” Linney’s voice was friendly, delicate. Jenna remembered that voice, and how much she’d missed it. “Hello?”
“Linney,” she said, breathless. “It’s Jen.”
Silence.
Jenna fought to slow her racing pulse. Get her breathing under control.
Linney didn’t respond.
Jenna’s stomach twisted tight. “Can I come up, please?”
Still no answer.
Jenna’s eyes squeezed shut. Okay, maybe confronting Linney this way was the wrong approach. She should have called first. Or stopped by the bookstore. Maybe she should have started with a postcard or an email or—
The door buzzed and Jenna yanked it open. She knew the apartment number and climbed the stairs on shaky legs. When she reached Linney’s door, she fought tears. Stood a little straighter. Lifted her chin.
Don’t get all weepy and creepy, she told herself.
Linney had had every right to bail when she’d turned eighteen—hadn’t Jenna done the same thing the very day she’d turned eighteen? The RV had been parked in Traverse City, Michigan, and she’d liked the city. So she’d stayed. She’d talked to her parents a few times thereafter, but she’d been the one to call them, never vice versa, so she’d eventually stopped making the effort, feeling as though it hadn’t been appreciated. Or expected. Or reciprocated. So why bother?
Jenna knocked on the door. She listened to the locks unlatch and then suddenly Linney was standing before her and Jenna couldn’t breathe.
They stared at each other, the threshold between them. An invisible barrier. Though, Linney’s eyes filled with tears as well. She was equally speechless. Pressed a hand to her mouth and continued to gaze at Jenna.
Somehow, coherent thought broke through and Jenna whispered, “My God, Lin. You’re so beautiful.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, because Jenna simply couldn’t hold them back.
Linney cried too.
Neither woman moved for several minutes. Then Linney’s hand fell from her mouth and she grabbed Jenna’s hand, clutching it tight.
“Come in,” she said in a tone raspy with emotion as she gently tugged. “Please, come in.” She locked the door behind Jenna and gave her a hug. A long, hearty squeeze that Jenna returned.
