Azalea’s eyes seemed to twinkle with delight at just having us here. It was more having her granddaughter, but it still felt as if she was pleased to see me too.

  “It looks delicious. Both of you, come on in. Make yourself comfortable. Meet everyone,” she said, reaching out to take the tray in my hand. “Sarah, you follow me with those cake pops, and we will take these to the bar and set them out. We have hungry men who want to eat now and can’t seem to wait until the meal is served.” She took a bite of the cake pop in her own hand. “MMM,” she hummed, then winked at Sarah, chewing.

  Sarah glanced up at me with her bright eyes shining.

  I instantly felt bad that she’d missed so many Thanksgivings here. Where she would have had a much better time. Her memories would have been those she cherished. Not the uptight, uncomfortable, religious meals Cleo forced upon us. I hoped Sarah had this every year for the rest of her life.

  Eighteen

  Wilder

  The laughter coming from the living room of my mom’s house filled my ears the moment I opened the front door. Belladonna came rounding the corner, sliding slightly on the tiled floor, then coming to an abrupt stop when she realized it was me. Her head tilted to the side, as if she wasn’t sure she was happy to see me. The poor pup probably realized that my appearance meant that Oakley would be leaving.

  “Yeah, I’m thrilled to see you too,” I muttered to her and bent slightly to pet her head before walking toward the voices.

  I could hear my stepbrother, Scott, telling some story about his last trip with more enthusiasm than necessary. I knew without being in there to take in the scene that it was all for Oakley’s benefit.

  No one noticed me when I entered the room. My mother’s gas fireplace was lit, but then it was sixty degrees today, which was rare for November in Florida. Sarah was curled up beside my mom, looking completely content. My gaze scanned the room to find Oakley. Who was looking at me. Someone had noticed me after all.

  A small smile lifted the corner of her lips. To anyone peering in from the outside, Oakley would seem like a fashion model, plucked from a billboard and placed in a room full of average people. Yet she didn’t appear uncomfortable. In fact, she seemed relaxed and … happy. Scott’s attention was completely on her, like I’d already guessed, but she didn’t mind or care. Even though there was a brunette sitting so closely to his side that she was almost in his lap.

  “DADDY!” Sarah’s squeal snapped me out of my locked gaze with Oakley, and I swung my eyes back to my daughter, who was up and running toward me.

  No female had ever been as happy to see me as this one was, and it felt good. It felt like it used to … before. My chest felt tight and achy as I squatted down to catch her just as she flung herself into my arms.

  “YOU’RE HERE!”

  Smiling, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the tight embrace. Damn, this was nice. No, it was more than nice. It was perfect. Normally, Thanksgivings with Sarah were the day after, and we shared leftovers here or at my apartment, then went to look at Christmas lights. It all depended on when Sylvia would allow me to have her.

  “We waited on you to eat, but I did save you one of the best turkey cake pops, and Oakley saved you one of the pumpkin ones because she said you liked pumpkin pie.” She finished that sentence with a scrunch of her nose, making it clear she didn’t like the last one.

  My gaze went back to Oakley, who was standing up now with my mom. She remembered I liked pumpkin pie. We had only had one Thanksgiving together, and it had been a tense one. Sylvia had been determined to make sure Oakley knew about my mistake.

  I shoved that memory away. Not one I wanted to relive. Ever.

  “You can sit and visit,” my mom told Oakley. “You’ve helped more than enough already. Let me and Jojo handle things in the kitchen. Visit with Wilder.” Her eyes shifted to me then, and she winked.

  Great, Mom. Don’t be obvious about your very incorrect assumption of this situation or anything.

  I gave her a pointed look, warning her to back off. This was for Sarah. It had nothing to do with Oakley and me. That ship had never even made it to the dock.

  “I’m sure Sarah can tell me all I need to know and update me on what I missed. Oakley is free to help you or whatever she prefers to do,” I said in a way that I hoped made it clear to everyone that we were not an item. Not even fucking close.

  I didn’t look at Oakley again, but I nodded my head to Porter, my stepdad, then went with Sarah to sit down across from Scott, who was watching Oakley.

  Stop drooling, brother. Your date is watching you.

  “I’ll just go help in the kitchen,” Oakley told my mother.

  I could feel my mom’s eyes boring into me, but I didn’t meet them.

  Stop trying to matchmake, Mom. Not the time or the woman.

  The brunette with Scott didn’t move or offer to help. She did, however, turn her eyes up to me and smile brightly.

  Sarah stood up and looked from the retreating forms of the other women, then back at me. “Uh, I should help too,” she said to me.

  I knew she didn’t want to hurt my feelings, but she was clearly choosing to be with Oakley over me.

  “Go on,” I reassured her with a wink.

  Her relieved smile returned, and she took off after them with Belladonna at her side. It was Thanksgiving, and this was her first time to have a real one with my family. I wanted it to be all she had hoped. If being with Oakley was part of that, then so be it.

  Porter’s large hand slapped my knee. “Never thought you were a dumb man.” His deep voice was gravelly. “But I’m second-guessing that.”

  I shot him an annoyed look.

  “He needs fucking glasses,” Scott said, agreeing with his father and not caring that the woman beside him was hearing this.

  Jackass.

  They both needed to put a stop to all the Oakley talk now. Sarah didn’t need to overhear this and get the wrong idea.

  “She is Sarah’s aunt. Who I am putting up with for my daughter’s sake. If Sarah didn’t love her so much, she wouldn’t be here. I’d rather not have to see her ever again.”

  “Like I said, he needs glasses,” Scott said, looking at me as if I were insane.

  “You’re old enough to know by now that beauty is only skin deep and a person’s nature can make them ugly. When I look at Oakley, I don’t see anything worth keeping.” It was a lie, and the moment I said it, I felt guilty.

  Movement from the doorway caught my attention, and I turned my head to see Oakley standing there, staring at me as if I had just slapped her face. Those blue eyes were wide, and—fuck me—they were wet with unshed tears before she spun around and was gone. That was something I hadn’t meant for her to hear. I didn’t want to hurt her, just keep her at arm’s length. No, screw that. I needed to keep her at a football field’s length.

  “I might not know her,” Porter said. “But I’m real good at reading people. Have been most of my life. Ain’t never once been fooled by someone. And the couple of hours I’ve spent around that girl, watched her with Sarah and your mom, well, I think you are wrong, son. That pretty face has a kind heart to go with it. You’d better not let your momma hear you talk about her like that. I think Azalea has already fallen in love with her.” He clamped his hand on my shoulder. “Good luck with that.”

  My throat burned as I sat there, fighting the urge to go apologize to Oakley. No one else seemed to have noticed her overhearing me. But I knew she had.

  Even after the shit she had put me through, the hell I had lived through because of her, I still couldn’t bring myself to hate her. I had lied to myself for years, claiming I hated her, but faced with the reality, I knew it was never true. She’d broken my heart. That was what I had hated. Not her. I doubted I ever could.

  Nineteen

  Oakley

  Get through this meal and leave. That was all I had to do.

  I was a pro at pretending. God knew I had pretended my way through every holiday at my dad and Cleo’s since they’d gotten married. Remembering when the holidays had been exciting and full of joy were hard. My memories of Mom were so few, but the ones I did have, I clung to.

  Until Wilder had shown up, I had let myself enjoy this. The family, laughter, love that they had for one another. It was something I had always wanted. Even now, I was thankful that Sarah had this. Her dad might hate me, but he loved her. This was their family holiday, and I felt like I was in the way. Maybe I should leave before the meal. Make up an excuse.

  “The charcuterie board was a hit. There is barely anything left,” Azalea told me, holding it up to show me the three crackers and handful of berries left on it.

  Forcing a smile I didn’t feel—and doubted I was going to for the rest of the day or possibly week—I replied, “I’m glad. Sarah worked hard on that.”

  Azalea gave me a knowing look. “As did you.”

  I shrugged. Why was the fact that she was so nice to me making it harder for me to hold back tears? I had to get out of this house. I refused to embarrass myself and ruin their Thanksgiving by being a baby. Sure, it was not a surprise that Wilder hated me. So, why was I being so sensitive about it now? Ugh! I needed to get myself together. It wasn’t that time of the month.

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I straightened and beamed as brightly as I could. “This has been so much fun, and thank you for having me, but I need to leave if I’m going to make it to my family’s Thanksgiving.” That was a lie. I hadn’t been invited to their house, and after being here, I didn’t want to go there.

  However, I had told Hamilton I would try and get back in time to go with him to see the lighting of the trees downtown tonight. I couldn’t be back in time to eat with him, but perhaps I needed to do this. Give this thing with him a real chance.

  “What? But we haven’t eaten yet. You’ve helped so much with everything. I’d hate for you to go without even getting to enjoy the meal.”

  Azalea looked so upset that I almost changed my mind. I wanted to stick it out for her sake, but I couldn’t be sure that I wouldn’t burst into tears if Wilder made another negative comment about me. He might have invited me, but he did not want me here.

  “I enjoyed being with all of you and getting to see Sarah so happy and loved. It did my heart good. Thank you for letting me tag along for a bit, but Wilder is back, and it’s time for family. I need to move on and go be with mine.”

  Azalea took off the oven mitts she had been wearing and walked around the counter to pull me into an unexpected hug. I blinked back the tears and prayed I could keep it together. It had been a while since I’d had real affection from anyone other than Sarah. Having a mom figure do it was wonderful and painful, all at the same time. I liked Azalea. I liked Porter and Jojo. I even like Scott, although he needed to pay more attention to Delaney, his date. These people were what families should be like.

  “I can’t tell you how thankful I am that Sarah has you. All I knew of you before today was what a beauty you were, but that beauty goes deep. You are a good soul, and I want that female influence in my granddaughter’s life. You’re welcome here anytime,” she said as she hugged me tightly, then stepped back. “Sure you can’t stay just for a small plate of food? My dressing is the best in town,” she urged.

  I was about to break down. Any minute now.

  I shook my head. “I can’t, but I wish I could,” I told her, and that was the truth. I did wish I could have this day to experience, but that would require everyone wanting me here. It was clear I wasn’t welcome by one person, and that one was painfully the one that mattered to me. At least a close second to Sarah.

  She nodded, still frowning. “I understand. I know your family needs you. Especially this year.” She meant with Sylvia being gone. We weren’t that kind of family, but she need not know that.

  “Thank you again for everything,” I told her just as Sarah rushed back into the room from the bathroom break she had taken.

  She stopped, her eyes going from me to her Honey.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, walking slowly toward me.

  I had to be strong for her sake. Make this easy on her and not leave here with her worried about me.

  I bent down to her level. “I need to get going,” I told her, hating the way her face instantly fell. “Your dad is back, and I need to get to Georgia for Thanksgiving there.”

  She shook her head. “Granmother’s Thanksgiving isn’t fun like this. You know that. Stay here,” she pleaded.

  If only I could.

  I pulled her to me and hugged her tightly. “I love you, Buttercup. I had the best time with you, and we will do it again soon. But I need to go back home. Enjoy your day and eat enough of your Honey’s dressing for me too. Okay?”

  She clung to me as she nodded her head. “Okay,” she replied with a sniffle.

  That one little sound was almost enough to make me suck it up. Stay. Forget that Wilder hated me and wanted me out of here. Overlook the fact that his stepdad and brother now thought I was some evil bitch, pretending to be nice. But if I left, Wilder would be happier, and that was the best for Sarah.

  I released her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head before straightening. It was time to exit. My emotional tidal wave was close to cresting.

  I waved at Azalea and Jojo. “Thank you for having me. I hope you all have a happy Thanksgiving.”

  “You too, sweetie,” Jojo replied.

  “Drive carefully,” Azalea told me, still looking as if she might beg me again to stay.

  It hurt my chest even more to think that once I was gone, she’d hear from Porter or Wilder about what a bad person I was. She’d think differently of me. I wouldn’t be returning here, and my heart felt broken from just that realization alone.

  “I love you,” Sarah said, sniffling again.

  “And I love you most,” I told her, smiling the best I could.

  Belladonna sensed what was happening and came to give me some goodbye love. I hugged her tightly before heading for the door. I had to get out of this house—and quickly. My chest felt like it was about to explode.

  Nine Years Ago

  The moment Wilder’s truck pulled into the driveway, I rushed outside to greet him. I hadn’t seen him in person since the day I had left for Ole Miss. We talked daily and texted, but that wasn’t enough. I wanted to see him. I needed to see him.

  He wasn’t even out of his truck completely when I reached him. His gaze trailed down my body, then back to my face. The sexy smile of his that made me feel like a puddle of goo slid over his handsome face.

  “You miss me?” he asked.

  Laughing, I threw my hands around his neck and hugged him tightly. “YES!” I exclaimed.

  His arms wrapped around me, holding on to me as if he was never going to let go. Every nerve in my body came alive. It felt as if they were waking up after a long sleep. I leaned back just enough to cover his mouth with mine.

  Peppermint and Wilder made the world seem right again. I loved him. I hated being away from him. I wanted him with me all the time. Video calls weren’t enough. I needed more. So much more.

  He broke the kiss too soon, pulling back and looking over my shoulder toward the house. “I don’t need your dad coming out here with a gun, ready to take my head off.”

  My dad didn’t care who I kissed or what I did. He rarely paid any attention to me at all.

  “We are just kissing,” I pointed out.

  Wilder raised an eyebrow as he stared down at me. “Yeah, but you’re eighteen, and I’m twenty-five,” he replied. “Most dads would have met me at the door with a rifle.”

  My dad would just be glad when I was gone again.

  “Exactly. I am eighteen. A legal adult,” I informed him.

  He chuckled then. “Adult, huh?”

  Narrowing my gaze, I pointed a finger at his chest. “Are you saying I’m not an adult?”

  He shrugged. “No. Not exactly. It’s just … there is a lot of life you haven’t lived yet.”

  “You’re only seven years older than me, Wilder. Not twenty.”

  Leaning down close to my ear, he whispered, “You look beautiful.”

  I shivered from the brush of his warm breath against my skin.

  “Thank you,” I replied.

  “I missed you,” he said to me, still there at my ear, driving me crazy with want.

  “I missed you.”

  He pressed a kiss to my neck, then leaned back and nodded his head toward the house. “Your sister is standing at the window, watching us. We should go inside.”

  With a groan, I released him and then reached to grab his hand and thread my fingers through his. If Sylvia wanted to watch, then I would make sure she knew Wilder Jones was mine.

  Twenty

  Wilder

  Mom called out that the meal was ready, and we headed to the dining room.

  I had heard very little of what Scott had been saying. My head was having an internal battle over what I should do about what Oakley had heard me say. Should I apologize or let it go?

  In the dining room, the long table was filled with food. The turkey was in the middle with fancy greenery and cranberries around it. That was new. Our turkey had never looked like it belonged in a magazine ad before. I had to admit, I liked it. This was turning out to be a great Thanksgiving for Sarah. Even the turkey was special.

  I walked over to the chair I always sat in, and Porter took the seat at the head of the table.

  Mom walked in with a casserole dish. “Scoot over the green beans, Wilder. I need room for the chicken crack casserole that Oakley helped me make.”

  I did as told, and unable to help myself, I glanced back at the door, looking for Oakley to enter. Instead, Mrs. Jojo walked out with the turkey carving knife and handed it to Porter.