“Just eat,” he says, popping a peanut in his mouth. “We swim and watch movies. But the day after, my mom has declared French Toast Friday. She makes the most amazing French toast with all the toppings. I’m pretty sure she only does it so we will all help her put up the five million Christmas decorations she insists on every year. But it works.”
My heart aches. Their traditions are all so simple. But they are traditions, born out of love, continued out of love. I ache to be a part of something like that.
“That sounds fun.” I choke on the sudden lump in my throat.
“It is. If I can get back in time for it.”
An idea sparks to life, but I won’t give it wings to fly quite yet. “Won’t Sean be back in time?” It’s only Tuesday evening.
“He’s got this whole plan of taking over Vegas. I wouldn’t be surprised if he ends up married.” Trent shakes his head. “I don’t know. There are flights. Or maybe I’ll steal his car since he stole my body.”
I snort. I can’t imagine living with a brother who loved me so much that he kidnapped me. I’m not sure kidnapping qualifies as love, but there’s got to be something buried under the layers there.
“Or…” I click my tongue as if the idea just came to me. “I can drive you back.”
His brows furrow. “You’re going to Phoenix?”
“Yup.”
“Weren’t you here with your mom?”
“Yes. But I’m ready to leave.”
“And you would let me hitch a ride with you?” His eyes narrow, his doubt evident.
“On one condition.”
His brows lift, asking what?
“Bring me home for Thanksgiving.”
Chapter 5
Trent
“What?”Shewantstocome to my house for Thanksgiving? Wouldn’t that be awkward for her? Then again, the last time I saw her was at my parents’ house, acting as if she owned the place. And if she’s bargaining to be invited to my home for Thanksgiving, she clearly doesn’t have a problem encroaching on people’s holidays. That still leaves a major unanswered question. “Why do you want to hang out with my family for Thanksgiving?”
I watch her brown eyes drop to the wallet in her hand, then back to me. “I’ve never really had the turkey and potatoes and, you know, the whole shebang.”
She’s never had a Thanksgiving meal? That thought sits like a sour candy in my throat.
“You really want to leave?” I know her mom ditched her, but surely there’ssomethingthey do together for the holiday.
“Yes.” She clamps her lips together with a grim nod.
“Okay,” I say. She may be slightly irritating, but with the little glimpse I’ve gotten of her family situation, I imagine she’s gone through a lot. Maybe I should give her the benefit of the doubt. Besides that, she’s incredibly beautiful. Not like I’d let her come over for that reason alone, but it certainly doesn’t hurt. I had to do a double take when I first saw her. Her hair is still short, barely brushing the top of her shoulders, and whatever makeup she’s wearing is making her dark eyes appear impossibly big and I can’t look away. Everyone else in this bar is wearing something gaudy or loud, but she’s wearing a simple sweater and leggings that puts them all to shame.
Her eyes light up before she turns, facing the bar again, and her short brown hair falls like a curtain in front of her face. “Okay,” she nods to no one in particular.
“I’ll pay for gas,” I offer.
She waves her hand. “It’s fine. I just filled up.”“So I’ll give you money.” I’m already reaching for my wallet.
“I won’t take it,” she says quickly. “I don’t accept charity.”
I get it, lots of people have a hard time accepting help.
“However…” She taps a finger to her lips and I drag my gaze away from the cupid's bow in her upper lip. “I will take answers to any questions I might have.”
