“Aunt Ryleigh,” Luke called out. “What are you doing here?”
“Surprise, kiddo,” she said, handing him a garment bag. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Is that all your stuff?” I asked.
“Nope,” she answered, fluffing the snow out of her hair. “My friend, Tristan, gave me a ton of men’s attire from his new collection. These are a few extra pieces, and I thought they might be nice for Luke with college interviews coming up.”
Ryleigh set her bags down and I hugged her tightly.
“Luke, take Ryleigh’s bags upstairs to the guest room.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he shouted.
I pulled two wine glasses from the cabinet. “So Mom and Dad went off to Europe for a month. Can you believe it?”
Ryleigh rolled her eyes. “Maybe they’ll make it a tradition because I am totally okay with spending the holidays sans our mother.”
I handed her a glass of wine. “Bottoms up, sister.”
“So, what’s the word with you and Coach Hamilton?”
“Nothing,” I answered, checking the timer for the rolls.
“What do you mean nothing?” Ryleigh asked, planting her ass in a chair at the island.
“I mean, Luke found out about us via Instagram and the shit hit the fan and we . . . I called it off.”
“What the hell kind of Instagram pic was it?”
“Me and Wyatt at a private concert for Dalton McCoy,” I replied, stirring the mashed potatoes.
“And that was enough to call off a relationship?”
As I flew around the kitchen gathering things for our dinner, I filled Ryleigh in on the whole drama. “Check his Instagram, it’s there.”
While my sister busied herself with Instagram, I checked on my maple pecan blondies. I melted the butter in a small saucepan. Once that was done I stirred in the maple syrup and brown sugar.
“Wow, there the two of you are seated feet away from the sexiest man in country music,” Ryleigh mused. “Well, aside from Cash Knight of Rebel Desire, but still. The two of you look mighty cozy . . . possibly in love.”
I laughed, it was a sad bitter laugh because even if I couldn’t admit it to the world, I admitted to myself—I had fallen for Wyatt. I didn’t know if I was in love with him, but I definitely loved him. Wyatt Hamilton was a man who took me by surprise in the best possible way, and I liked to think that I did the same for him.
There was a loud knock at the door and my heart jumped in my chest. “Ryleigh, can you get the door?”
“No, I have to use the powder room.” She was up and out of her chair racing upstairs instead of using the bathroom on the first floor.
If I didn’t get the glaze right for the blondies this would be a disastrous dessert. “Luke, can you get the door?”
Not a peep from Luke. He was probably engrossed in whatever NFL game was on television at the moment. I walked to the door and found Wyatt standing there holding a bottle of wine. My heart thumped out of sync as I tried to wrap my mind around being this close to him.
“What are you doing here?”
“Luke invited me.”
“Is that so?”
He nodded and all six feet whatever inches of him stepped inside my home. He was dressed in a pair of distressed denim jeans that hugged his thighs perfectly and a navy sweater that made his normally light eyes appear darker. He looked edible. Undeniably handsome.
“Happy Thanksgiving,” he said, as he handed me the bottle of wine.
When our fingers touched, adrenaline coursed through my veins, winding its way to my heart. All these emotions slammed into me sending my body buzzing into a massive frenzy.
He stared at me for a long moment. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.
Closing the gap between us, Wyatt reached for me, his hands sliding around my waist pulling me into his frame.
“Touching you, being this close,” he expelled a deep breath. “I feel like I can breathe again.”
“Wyatt, I . . . I,” my voice broke into a heavy sob. “I don’t know where to begin or what to say.”
His hands framed my face. “We don’t have to say anything, yet. I just want to be here with you and we can figure the rest out later.”
“Okay,” I agreed, my heart beat a bruising rhythm against my ribs.
“All right,” he said, making no attempt to move from our spot in the hallway.
I tipped my head to look up at him. “Let me ask you a question.”
“Anything.”
“I love you,” I whispered against his lips.
“Was that the question?” He smirked, before sealing his mouth over mine, kissing me deeply.
Licking my lips, I nodded. The kitchen timer buzzed bringing me out of my Wyatt induced haze. His eyes locked on mine and the overwhelming pull took hold, my need for him.
“I love you, Hannah,” he said, rocking between my thighs.
I pulled back, turning to drag him into the kitchen with me placing the wine bottle on the counter. “First we eat and then you and I can do that.”
Fits of laughter rang out from the stairs, and I called Ryleigh and Luke down. “The people above the stairs can come down now.”
Ryleigh and Luke hugged Wyatt. Ryleigh poured more wine while Luke set the table. The Broncos game was about to start and chatter about the score filtered through the room.
I turned to face Wyatt. “Where’s Loki?”
“Oh shit.” He snapped his fingers and trekked to the door. Loki came running inside shaking the snow from his fur coat. “Sorry about that, buddy,” Wyatt said, patting his head.
Taking in the sight before me, my heart filled with joy as I placed the turkey on the table.
“Luke, would you like to do the honors and carve the turkey?” I asked, handing him the knife.
“Not this year, Mom,” he said. “I want Coach to do it since he’s our guest.”
I glanced at Wyatt. “You up for the challenge, Coach?
He took the knife from my hands. “I can handle anything you throw my way.”
I leaned down to whisper in Wyatt’s ear, “I’ll be up for anything you throw my way later.”
A smile stretched across his face. “Promise?”
“Always.”