Drew and Annie exchanged a quick glance.
“Uh, Mom.” Annie shuffled over the tiles on the kitchen floor. “I need to tell you something.”
“Later, darling,” Mrs. Prideaux said.
Drew mentally shook her head. Her mother had always taken the time to listen whenever she wanted to tell her something.
Mrs. Prideaux left Annie standing there and walked over to Drew. “Let me say hello to your friend first.”
When Annie’s mother shook her hand, Drew was surprised at the firmness of her grip. Drew pumped her hand mechanically, still not over her shock. Why hadn’t Annie told her parents? Finally, her manners kicked in. “Happy Thanksgiving, Mrs. Prideaux. It’s an honor to meet you. I’m a big fan of yours. Thank you for inviting me.”
“Please,” Mrs. Prideaux said with a carefree grin that reminded Drew of Jake. “Call me Claire.” After waiting for Drew to nod, she continued, “If you have the time, I could take you over to the studio later and you could look at my newest paintings and sculptures.”
“Mom,” Annie tried again.
Her mother gave her an absentminded nod and turned toward the oven. “Does this look like it’s done?”
Jesus, does she always ignore Annie like this?
Annie stepped closer to peer at the turkey. “Looks about done. Better use the meat thermometer to make sure, though.” She clutched the edge of the kitchen counter. “Mom, you know how Jake is forever playing practical jokes on me?”
“Sure.” Claire smiled. The aroma of sage and thyme drifted up when she opened the oven door. She stuck the meat thermometer into the turkey’s thigh. “Tell Drew the story about how he replaced the first tooth you lost with a pebble and put a note of complaint from the tooth fairy under your pillow.”
A car door slammed shut in front of the house.
Annie jumped. “Mom,” she said. “Please listen. There’s something I should have told you much earlier, but I ...” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I need to explain something before we eat.”
“Is the turkey done?” Jake called from the doorway. “Dad’s home.”
Claire held up the meat thermometer like a trophy. “It’s done.”
“Great.” Jake rubbed his hands. “I’m starving.” He ambled over and reached for one of the corn bread muffins that rested in a basket on the kitchen counter.
His mother pulled the basket away before he could grab a muffin. “Wait. Your sister wanted to tell us something before we eat.”
Both Prideauxs rested expectant gazes on Annie. Jake raised one eyebrow.
Damn.
Drew clenched her jaw.
This is not going good.
Annie threw Drew a desperate glance. “Um ... I’ll tell you later, when Dad is here too.” She slapped Jake’s hand when he again tried to reach for a muffin. “Go make yourself useful and carry this to the dining room.” After loading her brother down with bowls and dishes, Annie gave him a push and sent him off. Clearly, she was used to being the adult in the family.
As soon as Jake left the kitchen, Drew nudged Annie.
Now.
She nodded in Claire’s direction.
Tell her now.
“Mom,” Annie stepped closer to her mother, “whatever Drew and I do ...”
“Gosh, this turkey is really heavy!” Claire struggled to lift the turkey out of the oven.
Jesus, no wonder Annie is so stuck on structure and stability if she grew up in a chaos like this.
Drew shook her head.
Sighing, Annie stepped closer to help her mother.
A cloud of steam rose, and Annie stumbled back when the steam fogged up her glasses.
Drew gripped her elbow to steady her, aware of Claire’s presence. As soon as Annie had found her balance, Drew let go of her.
Before Annie could explain their revenge plan, Jake reappeared in the kitchen and grabbed two more bowls of steaming food. “Come on.” He nudged Drew with his shoulder. “You can make yourself useful too.”
Drew reached for a bowl of mashed potatoes and the sweet potato casserole and followed Jake out of the kitchen. Maybe she could distract him long enough for Annie to talk to her mother and explain everything.
“I know what you are doing,” Jake said as soon as they stepped out of the kitchen. “This is Annie’s attempt at revenge for getting set up with you, right?” He shook his head. “You missed your chance. Why don’t you just stop trying so hard to play the starry-eyed lovers when we both know Annie won’t be able to pull it off? Let’s drop the bullshit. You’re still welcome to stay, and we can all have a nice Thanksgiving. Truce?” He stuck the basket of bread beneath his arm and held out his free hand for Drew to shake.
His gaze was open and his smile was friendly.
This was the Jake that Drew had befriended in college—sometimes too thoughtless with his devil-may-care attitude, but never in a mean way. Shaking his hand and ending this charade was tempting. It had already gone on for too long, and she had a feeling that none of them would be laughing in the end. If she wasn’t careful, she would lose her friendship with both Jake and Annie.
Yeah, and your sanity.
But it wasn’t her decision alone to call off the practical joke at this point. She had promised herself to follow Annie’s lead, so that was what she would do. If Annie wanted to beat her brother at his own game, she would help her, no matter what she had to do to achieve it.
“It might have started out as revenge, but Annie and I ...” She stared at the mashed potatoes. “We spent a lot of time together in the past weeks, and before I knew it, I was head over heels in love with your sister.” She held Jake’s gaze as he stared at her.
Jake’s eyes narrowed. The grin disappeared from his face.
He’s starting to believe it!
Drew cheered internally and then sobered.
Yeah, because it’s the truth. Congrats. You’re in love with a straight woman.
Before Drew could recover from that thought, the front door opened.
A tall man entered. His steps sounded firm and confident on the tiles. He dropped his keys on an oak side table and then crossed the hall. “Jake,” he called. “Your car is blocking the driveway. Can you—?” He paused when he saw Drew, who was still standing in the middle of the hallway, clutching the bowl of mashed potatoes and the sweet potato casserole.
Unlike his wife’s wild locks, Mr. Prideaux’s thick gray hair lay in perfect order, combed straight back from his strong face with a Kirk Douglas cleft in his chin. Where Claire exuded a good-natured whirlwind energy that resembled Jake’s, Mr. Prideaux oozed calm charisma. His greenish-gray eyes didn’t reveal any surprise when he glanced at Drew.
“Hey, Dad.” Jake walked over and patted his father’s back in a manly hug, nearly dropping the basket of bread in the process. He gestured toward Drew. “This is Annie’s guest, Drew Corbin. We went to college together. Drew, this is my dad, Alan Prideaux.”
Drew shook herself out of her frozen state. She lifted the two bowls to show Jake’s father why she couldn’t shake his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Mr. Prideaux opened his bow tie and let it dangle around his neck. He looked from Jake to Drew and then to the kitchen. Lines appeared on his tan forehead. “I thought Annie wanted to bring home someone special.”
“Drew is special to me,” Annie said as she stepped out of the kitchen with another bowl of food. She wrapped her free hand around Drew’s upper arm.
Even though the words and the gesture were meant for Jake, not really for her, Drew’s heart swelled. Then she realized that Claire’s surprised expression as she left the kitchen probably meant that Annie still hadn’t clued her in.
“Of course she is,” Mr. Prideaux said. He gave Drew a nod. “You’re the first friend Annie has brought home since she finished high school.”
The first friend since high school?
Suddenly, Drew felt like an intruder who had no right to be here. Bringing home a friend after such a long time should have been a wonderful, relaxed day for Annie, but instead it was a day of constant tension.
“Can we eat now?” Jake drummed his fingers on the bread basket he carried. “The food is getting cold.” Without waiting for an answer, he turned and strode away.
Chapter 18
Still feeling shell-shocked, Drew found herself sitting next to Annie at the large oval table in the dining room, surrounded by gravy, green beans, cranberry sauce, stuffing, and mashed potatoes.
Alan Prideaux carved the turkey and tilted his head at Annie. “Thigh or breast?”
Annie nearly choked on a sip of water. Red-faced, she started coughing. “Dad, I’m a vegetarian. You know that.”
“But it’s not red meat,” Alan said. “Why don’t you try a little? Thigh or breast?”
Jake grinned at Annie from the other side of the table. “She tried to convince me that she has recently developed an interest in breasts, right, sis?”
Now it was Drew’s turn to nearly choke on her water. She glared at Jake.
For that comment, you deserve to be tricked, my friend.
“Breast, then,” Alan said. Not waiting for an answer, he put a large piece of white meat on Annie’s plate.
What are they doing?
Drew shook her head.
She’s a vegetarian, for heaven’s sake!
Then Alan moved on to her. “Thigh or breast?”
“I’ll take Annie’s breast.” Heat shot up her neck as she realized what she had just said. “I mean ...” She peeked over at Annie and found her just as red-faced. “She doesn’t eat meat.” As casual as someone who had taken food from her lover’s plate a thousand times before, Drew leaned over and pierced the turkey breast on Annie’s plate with her fork.
Their shoulders brushed, and Drew caught a whiff of Annie’s perfume. Her eyes closed for a moment, and she hummed with pleasure.
“Smells nice, doesn’t it?” Claire said.
Drew’s eyes shot open.
Christ. Stop daydreaming in front of her parents!
“Um ... yes. It smells fantastic.” Thank God Annie’s mother thought she was talking about the turkey.
At least I hope she does.
She tried not to give herself away by looking like a deer caught in headlights and shoved a piece of turkey into her mouth.
The stuffed bird smelled and tasted good too—of thyme, sage, apple, and cranberries. Memories of her last Thanksgiving rose. Her mother had already been sick, but she had dragged herself out of bed and prepared their turkey as she had since Drew could remember.
“Hey,” Annie said close to her ear. She rubbed Drew’s back. “You okay?”
Drew blinked, embarrassed to be caught daydreaming again. She looked up and met Annie’s compassionate gaze. “Yeah.”
“You miss your parents, don’t you?” The soft touch at Drew’s back didn’t retreat.
How does she know?
Was she that easy to read, or did Annie know her that well already? Drew sighed and nodded.
Annie rubbed her back again, making Drew lean into the soothing touch.
Out of the corner of her eye, Drew saw Jake watch them with a wrinkle on his forehead.
For a moment, Drew wondered if Annie had noticed him watching and was acting for Jake’s sake but then decided that Annie probably wasn’t even aware she was stroking Drew’s back.
She really cares about how I feel.
The thought made happiness flow through her like warm honey.
When Annie took her hand away, Drew shivered.
Silence ruled while they ate, interrupted only by polite requests to pass the mashed potatoes or Mrs. Prideaux’s retelling of her latest art exhibition. No one asked Annie how she was doing or where she had met Drew.
“Try some of the wine, Dad,” Annie said. “Drew brought it. She has her own vineyard and makes the best wine in California.”
Again, the compliment was probably meant to convince Jake that Annie was smitten, but Drew still felt her stomach warm with pleasure.
Alan lifted the bottle and studied the label. “1981.” He glanced at Drew. “A good year?”
“The best,” Drew said with a decisive nod.
Annie looked up and met Drew’s gaze. “That’s my birth year.”
“I know.” Drew smiled at Annie. “Like I said: the best year.”
A hint of red dusted Annie’s cheeks, but she didn’t lower her gaze. She looked into Drew’s eyes as if searching for something.
Drew sat caught in that gaze, afraid to even blink and interrupt their connection.
Something’s happening between us, isn’t it? That almost-kiss yesterday wasn’t just a fluke.
A cough made her look up.
Jake held out his glass. “Can I have some of that wine, please?”
“Sure.” Drew took the bottle from Annie’s father and filled Jake’s glass to the brim.
Maybe if we get some alcohol into him, we’ll have an easier time convincing him that we’re a couple.
She sighed.
Yeah. Convincing him. That’s what this is all about.
* * *
The crown of whipped cream on Annie’s piece of pumpkin pie looked inviting, but instead of eating, she twirled her fork through the white substance.