Nearest Thing to Heaven (Maverick Junction) (6 page)

And her mortgage payment came due next week. Her heart sank. Good luck with that. She still hadn’t managed a single new design.

Because Annelise’s mother and her mother were sisters, everyone assumed she had money. Wrong. Annelise’s mother had married money. Huge money. Her mother hadn’t. And it had never really mattered.

Still didn’t.

She’d make her payments. Always did, one way or another. She rolled her tense shoulders. Tonight wasn’t for this. Tonight was for celebrating. For dancing with a cowboy who made her all warm and fuzzy.

Determined to put money worries aside till after the wedding, she fixed a smile on her face. Turning to the others, she waved her bottle of midnight-blue polish. “Who’d like her nails done?”

A
nxiety crawled through Sophie’s stomach when she thought of sharing Thanksgiving dinner with what would be, in two more days, Annelise’s family. A stranger in a world where everyone else knew each other. Not her forte.

She’d rather stay right here in Annelise’s comfortable apartment and eat cold, leftover pizza from last night.

She’d rather have a red-hot poker stuck in her eye.

Well, no. She wouldn’t rather that.

She wasn’t antisocial. She liked people. Played well with others, actually. But she hated being the odd man out.

“Jeez, Sophie, I don’t understand. Yesterday you were fine with dinner at Babs’s.”

“I know. I changed my mind, that’s all.”

Annelise came out of the bedroom, buttoning a beautiful soft blue blouse. She sniffed. “You made coffee. I love you.”

“I sent Maggie off with a go-cup. She didn’t want any breakfast. Said she had too much to do today.” Reaching into a cupboard, Sophie grabbed a cup and handed it to Annelise. “Here you go. By the way, your dishes are great.”

A slow smile lifted the corners of her cousin’s lips. “Yeah. Funky, huh? Totally mismatched, but they work. I felt such a—a sense of freedom, I guess, to break away from all the rigidness I’ve always known. I can’t put it into words.”

Sophie shrugged. “Even when the walls are made of Swarovski crystal, a prison’s still a prison.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

Sophie raised her brows.

“Okay, it was pretty limiting. Not my parents, but the demands of society, of being watched all the time. Is that why you moved to Chicago?”

“That and my Cubs.” Sophie grinned. “Seriously? Even though I’m only on the periphery of your life, it washed over. There were times the paparazzi really bugged me. I honestly don’t know how you stand it.”

“The fish-bowl effect is a whole lot more diluted here. Although I understand every room within a hundred miles has been booked this weekend. All the photographers with their invasive, long lenses hoping to get shots of the wedding.”

Annelise took a long drink of coffee, her eyes closing. “This is wonderful. And you’ve managed to avoid answering my question. Why don’t you want to go to Babs’s?”

Sophie sighed. “These are your friends, Annelise. Your new family. I don’t know them. I don’t belong at their holiday celebration.”

Annelise slipped into a chair across from Sophie and laid a hand over one of hers. “If they’re going to be my family, they’ll be yours, too.”

“I sure hope not,” she muttered.

“What?”

Sophie felt the blush flood her checks. “Nothing. It’s just, well, I’m not so sure I want them all as family members.”

“Sophie London.” Annelise’s eyes narrowed. “It’s Ty Rawlins, isn’t it?”

The heat spread to her neck. “No.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire. Cash and I were concerned that if we got too near you on the dance floor at Bubba’s, we’d both end up scorched. And again last night.”

“Argh!” Sophie swatted at her. “You were not.”

“Were, too.”

“He’s attractive, okay? But at the risk of sounding redundant, I’ll remind you again he’s a widower and the father of three. He lives in the middle of absolute nowhere with a bunch of long-horned cows and God only knows what else.”

“Your point?”

“Finish your coffee, Annelise. I need to dry my hair.” Her phone rang. She checked the caller ID and grimaced.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just—” With a shake of her head, she answered. “Hello, Nathan.” She listened as he wished her a good holiday. “Yes, Happy Thanksgiving to you, too.”

“Where are you, Sophie?”

“Away.”

“Where?”

She said nothing.

After a few seconds, he said, “I’ve been thinking. Why don’t I join you? Spend a little vacation time with you.”

Her jaw tightened, and she noticed Annelise’s interest in the conversation. Shoot! But she had to hold her ground. “No. That’s not a good idea. I’m busy. I have to go now.”

“Don’t you hang up on me!”

“Excuse me?”

“I thought you liked me.” His voice held a querulous whine.

“I did. Past tense. Just like you and me.”

“Are you there with some guy?” His tone turned menacing.

She frowned. “No. I’m not. But even if I was, it’s really none of your business. Good-bye.” Despite his warning, or maybe because of it, she disconnected the call.

“Who’s Nathan and why is he upsetting you?”

Sophie blew out her breath. “Nathan Richards. We dated a few times. He’s a nice enough guy, but he wants more than I do.”

“Block his calls on your cell.” She bit her bottom lip. “Is he the reason you’re staying awhile longer in Maverick Junction?”

“Annelise, don’t worry about this. Concentrate on your wedding. On Cash.”

“Is he why you want the apartment?”

“Boy, you must be a bulldog in court.”

“I can be.” Annelise kept her eyes fixed on her.

“Geez, let’s get ready for Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Thought you didn’t want to go.”

Sophie shrugged.

“You want to change the subject that badly.”

“I can handle this.”

“Oh, Sophie. You’re way too nice. One of these days, it’s going to get you in hot water.”

*  *  *

Annelise’s words rang in her ears as they walked into Cash’s sister’s house. Maybe she
was
too nice, because despite her earlier reluctance, here she was, about to have Thanksgiving dinner with a house full of near-strangers.

Within minutes, Sophie realized she needn’t have worried. She’d never seen so much confusion or so many people gathered for a family get-together.

At both her and Annelise’s houses, Thanksgiving and all other dinners were formal, sit-down affairs with a polite mingling beforehand over drinks and hors d’oeuvres.

Here, as she and Annelise made their way to the kitchen, they passed Babs’s kids playing a game of tag while the men sat plastered to a mammoth television. Ty wasn’t among them. Nor did she see the Triple Threat, as she’d started thinking of his boys. She felt momentary relief, chased by—disappointment?

She gave herself a mental head smack.
Don’t be silly
.

The house itself was impressive. Open, spacious rooms. Beautiful hardwood floors. Wooden ceiling beams. And an enormous stone fireplace. This was a home. Despite the size, it welcomed a person. Warm, cozy, and lived-in. Babs had nailed it.

Cash scooped Annelise up for a hug and a drawn-out kiss. “Happy Thanksgiving, sweetheart.”

“Happy Thanksgiving right back at you,” she said.

Then he hugged Sophie and grinned. “Welcome to our dysfunctional family.”

She laughed. “If that’s the case, I should fit right in.”

“The girls are in the kitchen.” Matt tipped his head toward the rear of the house. “Follow your noses.”

“Thanks, Matt,” Annelise said. “It smells heavenly in here.”

She was right, Sophie thought. She breathed deeply, taking in the mouth-watering aromas of homemade bread, roast turkey, and pumpkin pie. She could happily hyperventilate! She loved the holidays!

As they stepped into the kitchen, a mix of cheers and boos erupted from the living room behind them. Somebody’d made either a touchdown or a boneheaded play.

“Men and their football.” Mrs. Hardeman smiled and shook her head. “Sophie, it’s so nice to see you again. I’m glad you came.” She pecked her on the cheek, then hugged Annelise. “Don’t you two look pretty?”

And that easily, Sophie realized, with no fuss or muss, she’d been welcomed into the family.

Annelise twirled, showing off her new skirt and top. “Maggie’s work.”

“Oh, you two were at her shop yesterday, weren’t you?” Babs stepped away from the stove to greet them both with a hug. Taking the wine and flowers they offered, she asked, “What did you think, Sophie? Aren’t our dresses beyond gorgeous?”

“Yes, they are. Everything in her place impressed me. Heck, the shop itself.” She rolled her eyes. “I have to confess to more than a little apprehension beforehand. Bridesmaids’ dresses are usually—”

“Humiliating?”

Sophie nodded.

“Ugly?”

She nodded again.

“To be used as rags the day after the wedding?” Babs laughed.

Sophie joined her. “Right again.”

“Not my attendants’ dresses,” Annelise said. “I want you all to look gorgeous. To be happy—right along with me.”

“And we are,” Sophie said. “And thankful, to both you and Maggie.”

Over the TV noise, she heard the front door open and a loud squeal. High-pitched children’s voices.

“That would be Ty.” Mrs. Taylor, Matt’s mother and Ty’s mother-in-law, laid down her dish towel.

Before she started toward the front room, though, Ty stuck his head into the kitchen, casserole in hand. “Sorry we’re late. I went by my folks’ place for a short visit and had trouble escaping. Mom sent this.”

He passed the dish to his sister-in-law.

“Where are my grandbabies?”

“Destroying the front of the house, no doubt. It’s been a trying morning.”

“Too much going on.” Mrs. Taylor went in search of the boys.

Babs lifted the foil and sniffed appreciatively. “Your mother’s enchiladas.”

“For Thanksgiving?” The question slipped out before Sophie could bite it back.

Ty sent her a bemused look. “Absolutely. Don’t forget, you’re in Texas now, darlin’.” He ran a finger down her nose. “We eat enchiladas three hundred sixty five days of the year.” Crossing to the fridge, he asked, “Beer in here, Babs?”

“Yes, sir.”

Sophie watched as he helped himself. Obviously he spent a lot of time here and felt right at home.

Another round of cheering erupted from the guys.

“Damn. I’m missing the game.” Ty kissed the top of his sister-in-law’s head and took off for the TV.

“What would you two like to drink?” Babs held up the coffeepot. “This? Wine?”

Annelise pointed. “I’ll have a cup of that.”

“Do you have tea?” Sophie asked.

“Sure do.” She swung open a cupboard door, displaying a huge selection. “Pick your poison.”

The women talked and laughed. Cooked and tasted. Sophie chopped veggies for the salad and loved every minute of it. Thanksgiving in this family truly was more than a meal. Far more. A celebration.

And in a couple days, they’d all get together again to dance at Annelise and Cash’s wedding.

A burst of childish laughter erupted from the front of the house, and Sophie smiled. She’d never spent a holiday with children. It was different; it was fun. It brought remembered excitement, the promise of things to come.

And a lot of worry. A lot of work. Yet everyone here seemed to take it in stride. She’d bet within a year, Annelise and Cash would be adding to the clan, starting their own branch of the family tree.

A sense of—what?—longing maybe, of wistfulness washed over her. She was so happy for her cousin, but tucked inside a tiny pocket of her heart? A wish for a family of her own. Yet the rational part of her brain understood she wasn’t Annelise.

No, she’d be better off on her own. She’d never suffered from a broken heart, never cried into her pillow because some guy had walked away. Why? Because she’d never cared enough. None had ever touched her heart. Surely if it was in her makeup, she’d have toppled by now.

Ty’s teasing jab at Brawley drifted into the kitchen. Ty Rawlins. Now there was a man who could probably make her cry into her pillow—and, if given the chance, very well might. And that scared the pants off her. Her phone vibrated in her pocket.

“Excuse me. Must be my mom and dad wishing me a Happy Thanksgiving.” She wiped her hands on a towel and headed for the back deck.

“Hello?”

“What are you doing?”

Her stomach fell. She’d promised herself she’d check caller ID; she hadn’t. “I’m busy, Nathan. I can’t talk now.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

She exhaled loudly. “Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

“Fine, then. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“You know you don’t mean that.”

“Oh, but I do.”

“You hung up on me earlier.”

She rubbed a spot between her eyes. “We’re getting ready to sit down to dinner. I have to go.”

“We? Who’s there with you?”

“Family.” She closed her phone and sank down into one of the brightly colored deck chairs. Dropping her head in her hands, she swore. What was she going to do?

Ignore him. If he called back, she would
not
answer the phone.

“Trouble?”

The deep voice startled her. She looked over her shoulder to where Ty stood, all six-four of him looking a whole lot like trouble himself.

She shook her head. “Not really.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” She threw him what she hoped was a blinding smile.

His gray eyes stared into hers, making her want to squirm.

“I think they actually are about ready to eat,” he said. “Why don’t we go back inside?”

Hand on the door, he hesitated. “Is this Nathan dangerous?”

She shook her head. “Just a pain.”

“Sounded like more than that to me. If some jerk is bothering you…”

“No. It’s okay.” Yet something tugged deep inside her at the thought of this cowboy willing to go to bat for her. It had been a long time since anyone other than her family had her back.

Without another word, she stood and moved through the French doors, Ty right behind her.

*  *  *

Sophie wasn’t sure how it had happened, but she found herself seated beside Ty. She looked quickly across the table at Annelise, who sent her an innocent smile.

Oh, this one was up to something. Good thing she’d be leaving on her honeymoon Saturday. Until then, Sophie decided she’d have to keep an eye on her. She shook out her napkin and laid it on her lap while chairs scraped and scooted as everyone took his place.

Once the group was seated, grace said, and plates passed, Babs frowned. “We’re missing something.”

“What?” her husband asked, his eyes darting the length of the food-laden, groaning table. “I can’t imagine what else we could want.”

“Babies. We need some new babies.” She sent her brother a pointed look.

Other books

What a Doll! by P.J. Night
Reckless Pleasures by Tori Carrington
Shades of Murder by Ann Granger
TemptressofTime by Dee Brice


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024