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“I have no doubt,” Jim said. “Heading up the Carolina Reapers charitable fund sounds like an exciting job. And thank you, I’ll be sure to reach out when the next one comes up.”
“You’re not the sheriff,” Father said.
“No, sir, I’m not.”
“Do you have any aspirations to be?”
“Not right now,” Jim answered, and I shot my father a death glare.
Jim wasn’t here as my date but my father was treating him like he was about to ask for my hand in marriage or something. Sweet heavens, could I ever haveonenormal dinner with my family?
I took a deep breath, remembering that most of the uncomfortableness around family gatherings weremyfault, or had been from quite some time. But I was trying really hard to fix that, to make amends. My father seemed to be trying really hard to make my hate for him grow.
Cannon cocked a brow at my father, then me, a silent offer of help flickering across his features. My heart warmed at the silent offer, at the way he supported me even after the terrible way we started. He’d accepted my apology as easily as Sephie had, and he left it at that. I couldn’t ask for a better brother-in-law, and I flashed him a small smile and shook my head. He nodded, then picked up the pitcher of iced tea, refilling Sephie’s glass without her having to ask.
The smallest, most annoying stab of jealousy hit me watching the way he took care of her. The way he loved her without conditions or judgment. The way he’d fallen for her naturally without having to be set up by the family. The way they both acted around each other, like two halves of the same whole.
She deserved nothing less, and I was beyond happy for her. I just couldn’t help but want that kind of companionship for myself. And I know I shouldn’t, because I was in no position to ask anything of the universe. I made my bed and now I was dealing with the consequences. But, someday, maybe I’d be worthy of that kind of love.
“Being a police officer must be time-demanding,” my father said after a few moments. “I’m sure you’re heading to the station soon, right? It’s not like criminals take a day off.”
“Father,” I hissed, going rigid in my chair.
Jim smiled, shaking his head, while he dabbed at his lips with a napkin despite his mouth and beard being immaculate. A combination of hurt and finality flashed across his eyes as he set down his knife and fork, scooting away from the table.
“You know, you’re right,” he said, laying his napkin on the table. “Thank you for the meal, Mrs. VanDoren,” he continued as he stood up. “It was delicious. I hope you enjoy the pie. I got it fromLyla’s Place. My friend swears she’s the best chef this side of the country.”
“Jim,” I said, staring up at him. “Please don’t go.”
“It’s all right,” he said, glancing at my father. “I’m not where I belong.”
The words hit me like a punch to the chest, stunning me for a moment as he walked out of the room.
“Harold,” Mom chided. “What’s gotten into you?”
“That was totally uncalled for,” Sephie added.
“Seemed on par to me,” Cannon mumbled under his breath before taking another huge bite of turkey.
Finally regaining my senses, I stood up, looking down on my father. “You would think ten years would be enough to erase your unfounded dislike of Jim, but no, you’re acting as unreasonable as you did all those years ago. Jim at least had the decency to be polite.”
“I—”
“Don’t,” I cut my father off, flashing an apologetic look at my mother before hurrying out of the room.
I raced through the entryway, catching up to Jim who was waiting for his car at the valet station.
“Jim, wait, please—”
“It’s fine, Anne,” he said. “Just go back in there and enjoy your Thanksgiving.”
“Fuck Thanksgiving,” I said, and his eyes flashed wide. “Please, talk to me.”
“About what?” he asked, and I tugged on his arm, leading him away from the prying eyes and ears of the valet, and heading deeper into the grounds until we were alone and covered by an outcropping of trees.
“About anything,” I said. “I’m so sorry about my father—”
“De ja-fucking-vu,” he said, rubbing his palms over his face.
