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Cora opens the door before we’re up the front porch steps. “Happy Thanksgiving.” Grinning, her gaze sweeps over me, making me curious how privy she is to Nova’s and my past. “Come in. I’ll take that.” She grabs the pumpkin pie in my hands. “Head straight through there to the living—”
“Dev!” With a smile, my eyes swivel to Brett as he approaches us from around the corner. He drags me into his arms with firm pats on my back. “I’m happy you two decided to join us. It’s good to see you again, son.”
“Yeah, you too.” Pulling apart, his hand clasps my shoulder. “It was kind of your family to take us in for the holiday.”
“It’s no trouble at all. You two are an extension of Willa, so we might as well be family. And this is Ruby for you.” His arm sweeps across the fall decor. “The more, the merrier. She loves hosting these sorts of things, bringing everyone together. It’s all about planning for her.” He chuckles. “That’s where she shines. I just show up and slice the bird.”
Brett makes it easy to revel in his fatherly attention. Maybe it’s because I’ve been starved for it my entire life. “That’s right. That’s where Nova gets her love for lists.” I smirk.
He leans in with an affectionate glint in his eyes. “You don’t know a list until you’ve seen Ruby’s research.”
I can’t help the look I flash.
“Oh, wait. What am I thinking? You had firsthand experience on that road trip.” His elbow nudges my side as we head further into the house.
“And let’s just say Nova was less than pleased when I suggested she toss the plan.”
“Like mother, like daughter.” He pats my shoulder, an endeared gleam in his eyes. “Anyway, I hope you brought an appetite. Ruby’s perfected the Thanksgiving dish lineup, having gone through every online recipe and review imaginable over the years.”
I thump my stomach. “I was born ready for this.”
Rolling her eyes, Cora jerks her head left. “Sharon, my mom’s this way if you want to come with me to the kitchen.”
“Oh, absolutely. I need to help in whatever way she’ll let me.”
Giving Mom a friendly kiss on her cheek, Brett laughs. “Good luck with that. Ruby’s not a fan of guests working in her kitchen. She’ll want you to relax.”
“So, update me on TSG. Is Brad treating you well?”
“He’s gre—” I cut off as tension wafting from my left breaks through the laughter coming from the kitchen, and I glance over. Nova stands solid in the archway leading to the living room like granite, her mouth agape as her stare darts between Brett and me. “What is going on? Did you just call him son? And why are you two acting like you’re old pals?”
Were we? I hadn’t even realized. But the flare of a brewing storm in Nova’s eyes makes me want to bite my tongue. My interactions with Brett weren’t meant to be a secret. It just never came up in conversation with her. And maybe I liked having a connection to Nova she didn’t have the power to sever.
“I took Devin out to dinner several months back,” Brett throws out, offhanded. “And so we’ve kept in touch through text.”
Her neck rears back. “I’m sorry. What now?”
“Sweetheart, did you really think I wouldn’t want to meet him? He stole you from your wedding.”
“He didn’tstealme from anything.”
“Back then, that’s what it felt like.” Brett tosses his hand in the air. “Look at my point of view. I watched you drive away with a man who wasn’t your groom while you were still wearing your wedding dress, then you flew off to New Orleans. Yes, I knew you were fine. And yes, Willa informed us he was her brother, but that didn’t make me any less concerned about what was going on.”
Pieces falling into place, her expression hardens further. “You met after we returned from New Orleans? That was a year ago.”
Stepping into her, Brett rests a comforting hand on her arm. “It was a man-to-man conversation, honey.”
“Oh, don’t give me that BS, Dad. It’s so condescending.” She whirls, pinning me with a glare. “And you! You didn’t think it necessary to tell me you’d become besties with my dad?”
I don’t want to fight with her. “Nova.”
“Shut it. I don’t want to hear your excuses.” Her blue gaze volleys between Brett and me before she storms off.
“I’ll talk to her.” Brett moves to follow, but I stop him.
“If you don’t mind, I have a feeling you’re not the one she’s mad at. Let me.”
Going out the front door, I wander around the house and find Nova sitting on a wooden swing under a mostly bare oak like Brett said I would. My approach isn’t quiet with the crunch of fiery leaves carpeting the ground beneath my boots, but she keeps her head turned, ignoring me.
