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Her own inability to figure out what to do. How to make things right. Because there was no way to make things right for them. Oh, she’d tried that Christmas morning with the stupid present, and again much later when she’d tiptoed into the guest room and wrapped herself around Breck. But the fact was, she’d felt useless in the face of such a mountain of pain. As if there was no way to scale it.
She grabbed the forks, the handles clanging together as she walked around the table, laying one at each place setting. She wished she could lay her own feelings out as easily. They were a mess inside her, a mixture of memories and emotions, things she’d thought she’d left behind when she’d grown into a woman.
“Happy Thanksgiving, little sis.” Lucas grabbed Caitie from behind, making her shriek. He squeezed his arms around her waist, lifting her with ease until her feet were inches from the floor.
“Put me down.” She wiggled in his grasp. He was strong, more so than she remembered.
“No way. Try and escape.” His voice was teasing. She loved hearing him so happy.
“I can’t.” She twisted, but his hold on her waist remained firm. Even kicking her legs did nothing to aid in her release. All it did was make him laugh.
“Come on, Lucas, you can put me down now.”
“Remember when we used to do this as kids? I swear you were stronger back then. New York’s taken the edge off you. Made you a weakling.”
“Tell that to my self-defense teacher,” she said, still trying to wriggle out of his grasp. Okay, what was it they taught her? She tried to concentrate. She’d been trained for this. All she needed to do was hook her leg behind his knee and jab her elbow into his stomach. She did it in quick succession, and he released her with a groan.
“Christ…” He doubled over, gasping for breath.
Her eyes widened. “Did I hurt you?” She reached out for him and he went to grab her again, all pretense disappearing beneath his grin.
But this time she was on high alert, and slipped out of his grasp, darting behind him to get him into a chokehold.
“What the heck?” he managed, his voice strangled. “Where did you learn that?”
“Caitie, put your brother down,” Deenie said. She showed no surprise at the sight of her twenty-eight-year-old daughter choking her thirty-year-old son. “Our guests are here. Lucas, I need you to offer them all a drink. And, Caitie, can you take some appetizers out onto the deck? It’s warm enough to sit out there for now.”
Caitie released him from her grasp, trying not to smirk at his look of surprise. “I took a self-defense course when I moved to New York,” she told him.
“Smart thinking.” He nodded. “And it’s reassuring to know you can take care of yourself.” He rubbed his neck where she’d been holding him. “Remind me not to underestimate you again.”
She grinned. “I will.”
Five minutes later, Caitie walked out to the deck, carrying two plates full of raw vegetables and dips. She came to a stop, staring at the people in front of her, her heart full as she took each of them in.
Lucas was helping her dad with the champagne, twisting the cork out with a pop. He poured it into the glasses her dad was holding out, and Harper took them and passed them around. Breck and his family were seated around the patio table, looking out at the yard so she could only see the back of their heads. Opposite them were Ember and her friend, Rachel, who was looking pretty in a pair of tight jeans and a strappy silver top. Caitie looked down at her own outfit – tight black pants, paired with a cream sweater and a thin, gold chain. She felt like winter to Rachel’s summer. The New York to her L.A.. She’d been pleased with the clothes when she’d put them on that morning, liking the way the fabrics outlined her curves. Now she wasn’t so sure.
“Do you want some champagne, Caitie?” Harper walked over, holding a glass in each hand. The bubbles were hissing and popping inside, begging for escape, just like Caitie. In unison, Breck, Daniel, and their father turned to look at her. She was taken by the strong family resemblance.
Breck was the first to stand. Scraping the chair across the deck, he walked over and took the tray of snacks from her hands. His fingers brushed against hers, sending a bolt of electricity up her arms. He smiled and it took her breath away.
“Happy Thanksgiving. Let me take these for you.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips against her cheek. Her nerve endings were on fire, her face tingling from the sensation of his breath against her skin. She wanted to close her eyes and savor the moment.
“Caitlin?”
The second man joined them. Younger than Breck, yet with the same sandy hair and sparkling eyes. His voice was quieter and his stance less
dominant than his brother, but there was no mistaking who it was.
“Daniel Miller? Jeez, you don’t look like I remember you.” She grinned at him. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
“Since I was pre-pubescent the last time you saw me, I guess I’ll be grateful for that.” He smiled shyly, and it brought back the familiar emotions in Caitie’s heart. Though she was only four years older than him, in those days it had been a huge gap. Enough to make her feel maternal and try to make him smile.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” She threw her arms around him. “Breck told me you were coming back for Thanksgiving. I’m so pleased to see you.”
“Me, too. It’s worth putting up with him just to say hi to you again.”
“I’m David Miller. I don’t expect you to remember me.” Breck’s dad offered her his hand. “But I remember you. Breck was right, you’ve grown up to be a beauty. It’s a pleasure to meet you again.”
