When he found out Alex and I were back together, he lost his shit. He wouldn’t talk to me for weeks, and even now, our conversations were strained. Josh stayed in D.C. for his residency, so we still lived in the same city, but he refused to see me if Alex was there. He’d ignored all of Alex’s outreach and seen through my schemes to help them patch things up. I’d invited him to celebrate Thanksgiving with us, but as I’d expected, he’d declined.
“I do wish Josh could’ve made it,” I admitted. I missed my brother.
“Me too. But he’ll come around.” Despite his confident words, a small furrow creased Alex’s brow. He didn’t say it, but I knew he missed Josh too. They’d been as close as brothers.
Unfortunately, Josh was stubborn as a bull. The more you pushed him, the more he dug his heels in. The only thing we could do was give him time and wait.
“He will.” I sighed and looped my arms around Alex’s neck. “Other than that, though, this week was perfect.”
We’d been in Vermont for six days, and the whole getaway had been a Pinterest-worthy autumn dream. Artisan fairs, a turkey trot, the best hot apple cider I’ve ever tasted…even Alex enjoyed being here, though he refused to admit it. I’d overheard his conversation with Ralph when his old Krav Maga instructor called and invited him up here for Thanksgiving, and it took me forever to convince him to accept.
“Good.” Alex dropped both his hands to my waist and kissed me on the lips. “Be glad I rented us our own cabin instead of staying here with Ralph and Missy,” he whispered. “Because you’re going to pay for your sass earlier.”
My heart skipped with excitement. Before I could respond, Missy and Ralph’s voices drifted through the doorway, and I jumped up so fast I banged my knee on the underside of the table.
I lunged into my chair, my face beet-red, right as our hosts reentered the room.
“Sorry we took so long,” Missy chirped. “Hope we’re not interrupting anything.”
“Nope,” I squeaked. “I was just enjoying your delicious chicken.” I munched on the now-cold meat. “Yum.”
Alex snorted out a laugh, which earned him another glare from me.
“Most of the food is cold, dear.” Missy clucked in disappointment. “Do you want me to heat ‘em up or skip straight to dessert? I made pecan pie, pumpkin pie, apple pie—”
“Dessert!” Ralph and I shouted at the same time.
“Alex?” Missy raised her eyebrows.
“One slice of pecan pie is fine, thank you.”
“Nonsense. You’re getting a slice of all three,” she said firmly. “I made ‘em for a reason, didn’t I?”
What Missy wanted, Missy got.
By the time we left her and Ralph’s house, I was full to the point of bursting.
I leaned into Alex for support as we made our way back to our rental cabin, which was a fifteen-minute walk away.
“We should come here for Thanksgiving every year,” I said. “If we’re invited, that is.”
He cast an incredulous glance in my direction. “No.”
“You had fun!”
“I did not. I hate small towns.” Alex placed a hand on the small of my back and steered me around a small puddle I hadn’t noticed.
I pouted. “Then why did you come this year?”
“Because you’ve never been to Vermont, and you wouldn’t shut up about it. Now you’ve been, so we don’t have to come back.”
“Don’t try to act all tough. I saw you buy that little porcelain puppy at the artisan fair when you thought I wasn’t looking. And you drag me to that hot cider shop down the road every afternoon.”
Crimson stained Alex’s cheeks. “It’s called making lemonade out of lemons,” he growled. “You are asking for it tonight.”
“Maybe I am.” I squealed and broke out into a run when Alex reached for me. He caught me in, oh, five-point-two seconds, but I wasn’t trying that hard to escape, and I wasn’t exactly Usain Bolt after all the carbs I’d ingested.
“You’ll be the death of me,” he said, swinging me around until I faced him. The moonlight cast his features in sharp relief, making the pale lines of his cheekbones slash like blades through the darkness. Beautiful. Perfect. Cold—except for the warmth of his embrace and the teasing glint in his eyes.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. “So we’re coming back for Thanksgiving next year, right?”
Alex sighed. “Maybe.”
In other words, yes.
I beamed. “Maybe we could come up early and go apple pick—”
“Don’t push your luck.”
Fair enough. We’d go apple picking the year after next. Seven hundred-odd days should be enough time to convince him.
“Alex?”
“Yes, Sunshine?”
“I love you.”
His face softened. “I love you, too.” His lips brushed over mine before he whispered, “But don’t think that’ll save you from the spanking you’re getting once we’re back in the cabin.”
A shiver of anticipation rippled through me.
I couldn’t wait.
* * *