Holly versus Mr. Ivy by Amanda P. Jones
Chapter 24
Rhett
same spot on the couch as the last time I’d watched a movie at the Dewhurst’s house. Deidre was in the green recliner, and Trevor sat two seats away on the sectional.
“What are we watching, Dee?” I asked.
Her eyes glazed over, like she was completely worn out.
“Unless you’d prefer to take a nap?” Trevor asked. “There are still plenty of activities happening today, and I don’t want you to get so worn out that you head to bed early and miss out.”
Deidre nodded, ever so slowly. “You’re right. A rest will do me wonders. You can tell me the football scores when I wake up.”
So it was going to just be me and Trevor? Oh, joy. When I planned to come early, it was to spend more time with Holly, not her brother, who so far hadn’t given off the friendliest of vibes.
Pulling out my phone, I clicked on an app to occupy my time until Trevor came back from helping Deidre to her bed and turned on the game. At least football was a sport I loved, and as long as Trevor did too, we’d have one thing to talk about.
Water rushed through the pipes in the wall, and my mouth went dry as I pictured Holly in the shower. Naked. Heat simmered along my limbs, pooling in my stomach. Holly might have been embarrassed about her appearance this morning, but honestly? All I imagined was weekend mornings waking up next to her looking exactly like that. Her just-rolled-out-of-bed look rivaled the jeans I loved.
I had stayed away from Holly as much as possible for an entire month. One, because of the conversations I’d had with Uncle Anthony. Not only after firing Darby, but he’d called me the second week of November, asking for another update on the restaurant, which included a stern reminder to keep things professional with the chef. The second reason I pulled back was because I was humiliated she’d had to drive me home and get me to bed. I wasn’t quite ready to share that piece of my life. Third, because after helping Jack pack up his family bakery, I was in a slump and really struggling to do anything but get myself to work. And fourth, the restaurant numbers had increased, but not as much as I’d anticipated. I’d been worried about failing and honestly didn’t even know how to balance managing my anxiety, reaching our goal, and going after Holly.
Basically, November sucked. All my pulling away had done was make me want Holly more. Watching her with the staff, hearing her laugh at something Skye said, seeing a new light in her eyes, all made me long to pull her into my office and kiss those pink lips of hers.
I’d succeeded in stuffing those feelings down and not acting on them.
Until Jack came to see me about Meg last week.
If my best friend, Mr. Grump of the highest order, could want love and fight for it in a way that made him squirm, why couldn’t I?
There were precautions Holly and I had to take. I wasn’t going to ask her to date me and hire a skywriter to proclaim it for all the world to see. But I did want to spend more time with her. Even if it was just as friends with the understanding that eventually, we could transition to more.
Trevor came back into the room, passing by to take a seat on the couch. He sat closer than before until only one cushion separated us. He slapped my shoulder, harder than necessary. Got it, man. You’re still not happy about me hanging around your sister.
“Do you like football?” he asked.
I nodded. “I do.”
“Good,” he grunted and turned on the TV. We watched the game in silence.
Come on, Holly, where are you? Save me from your brother. PLEASE.
Fifty minutes later, the woman I couldn’t stop thinking about finally made an appearance. The tan family room rug turned into a red carpet with the way Holly strutted out in black skinny jeans, a gold sweater, her gorgeous black hair styled in soft waves, and deep red lips.
My pulse ticked up a few notches as I swept my gaze up and down Holly’s curves. Dang, she was beautiful. Inside and out. I couldn’t wait for Saturday when we would spend time together without Holly’s family or our coworkers around us. If only I could glide my hands across her skin, taste her lips, and hold her in my arms right now.
“What are you watching?”
“Bills and Lions.” Trevor patted the cushion on the side of him that wasn’t close to me. “Come join us. There’s not much else to do until the food is ready.”
“Wrong.” Holly smirked. “It’s time for lunch.”
“You’ve been cooking all day. Let me make you something,” I offered, hopping up from the couch, eager to be with Holly. As much as I loved football, especially on Thanksgiving, I’d choose Holly over a game any day.
“I don’t know if you can,” Holly said doubtfully. “I usually make a pretty decadent lunch consisting of a pureed nut butter spread with a strawberry reduction sauce served on a whole wheat baguette.”
A laugh burst out of me. “Really? You have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on Thanksgiving?”
Holly smiled, her blue eyes shining. “Yeah. All the good stuff isn’t ready yet, and I want to save room.”
“Don’t knock it till you try it, bro,” Trevor said. “It’s the perfect pre-stuff-your-face meal.”
Who was I to disrupt their traditions? “PB and J it is. Where are the ingredients?”
“Come on.” Holly waved me to follow her. In the walk-in pantry, I stayed right on Holly’s heels. The closet was lined with white floor-to-ceiling shelves, leaving just enough space for two people to stand inside.
My chest was inches from Holly’s back, where she stood to reach for the peanut butter on the fourth shelf. I leaned forward until my face was next to hers. “Allow me.”
Holly shivered. “Oh. Okay.”
Plucking the peanut butter from the shelf and the bread out of a hanging basket, I took my loot to the island.
Holly dug around inside the fridge for the special “strawberry reduction sauce.”
“Where are the butter knives?”
Holly stepped way closer than the situation called for to set the bottle of jam on the counter. Her arm brushed my side, making pops of electricity spark across my nerve endings. I see what you did there, Holly.
She turned to a drawer behind her, pulling out the utensil I needed.
“Plates?”
Just like with the jelly, she stood right next to me to place the knife on the counter, her fingers gliding lightly across my forearm in the process. A touch so light shouldn’t cause a reaction so deep. One that went straight to my core.
I quivered from her touch. Her taunting. This little game we played was as dangerous as a single match on a dry forest floor.
Holly handed me the plates, and I made sure my fingers covered hers as she passed them to me. Heat transferred between us like one torch lighting the other. “Thank you,” I managed to get out.
Holly’s eyes locked with mine. “You’re welcome.”
Tearing my gaze away from Holly’s gorgeous deep blue eyes, I scraped peanut butter out of the jar. “Are you an even peanut butter-to-jelly person, or do you prefer more of one condiment over the other?”
Holly leaned her hip against the counter, watching me. “Even. You?”
“I like a little more peanut butter than jelly, but not too much. I still want that pop of sweetness.” As I assembled the sandwich, I had an epiphany. “You know, this kind of reminds me of you. You’re salty with a sweet side. Exactly the way I like it.”
After lunch, Holly and I worked on setting the table. A wood box filled with leaf garland and pumpkins sat in the middle. Pillar candles flanked each end of the box. Four burnt orange placemats with cream plates and carefully folded linen napkins and crystal wine glasses completed each place setting. The decorations were pretty and festive.
“Let’s get this turkey out of the oven,” Holly said, rubbing her hands together. “Trevor, you ready?”
Trevor pulled oven mitts out of a drawer, sliding them onto his hands. “I’m ready.”
Holly stood to the left of Trevor as he opened the oven door. I stayed as far away as possible, not wanting to get in anyone’s way when the main course was being brought out.
“That looks so good. You did an excellent job, Holly,” Trevor said, pulling the wire rack out halfway.
“The skin crisped perfectly.” Holly stared at the turkey, pleased with the outcome.
As if it wouldn’t taste good. Everything I’d eaten at the restaurant that Holly had made was fantastic.
Deidre scooted around Trevor, trying to peek over his shoulder at the bird. Deidre’s slipper tripped on the edge of a rug, and in slow motion she tried catching her balance by grabbing onto Trevor, who now held the heavy baking pan in his hands. Deidre’s motion caused Trevor to stumble, and the turkey wobbled. The right side tilted dangerously to the left, about to fall out of the pan.
“Noooo!” Holly cried, reaching her bare hands out to keep our dinner from falling to the floor.
“Oh, no!” Deidre shouted.
Holly screamed, “Fates blasted son of a monkey! That hurts!” but didn’t let go of the hot turkey scalding her hands until Trevor steadied the pan and dropped it on the counter.
My stomach jumped to my throat as I watched in horror.
“Whoa!” Trevor hollered. “Are you okay, Hols? You should have let it fall.”
Holly ran out of the kitchen and down the hall. I chased after her.
“Holly?” I called out, panicked. How much pain was she in? How bad were her burns? Did we need to rush her to the hospital?
She stood in the bathroom by the counter, her hands held under running water in the sink. In the reflection of the mirror, I saw tears streaming down her cheeks.
My chest tightened. Without her hands, she wouldn’t be able to work. More than that, I didn’t like seeing her in pain.
“Hey,” I said gently, stepping beside her. “Are you okay?” I brought my pointer finger up to her chin, guiding her face to mine. With the pad of my thumb, I brushed away the tears falling down her cheeks.
Holly whimpered. “That was a huge mistake.”
I softly took her hands in my own, looking them over. Red, angry, shiny skin with blisters covered her palms. “We need to get you to the hospital.”
She shook her head. “The blisters haven’t popped. I just need to keep my hands under running water for half an hour and then wrap a loose gauze over it.”
I frowned, not liking that answer. I’d feel better if she saw a doctor. “Are you sure? The ER is open.”
Her mouth pulled into a straight line. “If the blisters pop, I’ll go, but for now I’d rather stay.” Her blue eyes dulled.
Resigned, I asked, “How can I help?”
“Will you get cool water running in the kitchen? That way I don’t have to stand in here
for half an hour.”
Being careful not to bump her hands, I stepped directly behind her and wrapped my arms around her shoulders, her back flush against my chest. The top of her head barely came to my pecs. In the mirror, her eyes widened, her cheeks tinged pink.
“Yes. But for the record, no one would have cared if you’d let the turkey fall onto the floor.” Warmth seeped into me from holding Holly. I’d made the right decision in asking Holly to spend more time together. If just hugging her like this had me all heated, what would it be like to hold her hand? Kiss her? Nuzzle her delicate neck?
“I didn’t think.” She shook her head. “Just reacted.”
I pulled away. “I’ll be right back.”
“Is she okay?” Deidre asked, tears in her eyes as I entered the kitchen.
“Yeah, how is she?” Trevor asked, fiddling with a hot pad.
“Hard to tell. The burns look pretty bad, but she won’t go to the hospital. She wants to come in here instead of staying in the bathroom.”
“She doesn’t want to go to the hospital because of the cost,” Deidre murmured. “Trevor, will you take her? We’ll figure out how to pay for it later.”
Say what, now? They couldn’t afford a two-hundred-dollar emergency room visit? I knew how much money Holly made since I submitted the payroll every two weeks. Yes, two hundred dollars was a decent chunk of change, but not enough to keep someone away from medical attention when they needed it.
“I’ll pay for it,” I offered.
Deidre reached out, took my hand, and patted it. “That’s very sweet of you to offer, Rhett, but we couldn’t let you do that.”
They absolutely could. “You invited me into your home on a holiday and offered to feed me this extravagant meal. It’s the least I can do.”
“I’ll take her and cover the expenses,” Trevor said, fishing his keys out of his front pants pocket.
Holly rushed into the room, going straight for the kitchen sink, where she held her hands under the water again. “That feels better.”
“Trevor is taking you to the hospital when your thirty-minute session is done,” I said.
“No, he’s not,” Holly stated. “I’ll be fine. There’s no need to ruin the rest of our holiday.”
Deidre, Trevor, and I exchanged worried glances.
“Holly,” Deidre started to say.
Holly shook her head. “Let’s see how I’m feeling after we eat. All right? The food is warm and ready. There’s no need to make a fuss when I can keep my hands under water.”
There was every reason to make a fuss. “How are you supposed to eat?” I’d happily feed her. If she’d let me.
She shrugged. “I’ll figure something out.”
“I’ll help you.”
“How?” Holly’s brows rose.
“He’ll spoon feed you,” Deidre chimed in.
“No, Rhett won’t.” Holly’s head shook so vehemently, her hair swung side to side. “That’s so embarrassing. I’m not a baby.”
“Then I’ll do it,” Deidre offered.
Holly frowned. Her gaze darted back and forth between Deidre and me. “Fine,” she grumbled. “Rhett can feed me.”
“Thank you for the opportunity, your grace.”
She narrowed her eyes at me.
I winked.
We worked to get the food on the table, ready to resume our Thanksgiving dinner.
When the last serving dish was placed on the table, Deidre sat in her chair. I leaned down and planted a kiss on Deidre’s cheek. “Happy Thanksgiving, Dee. Thank you for letting me come.”
Holly jerked her head back. “Since when do you call my mom ‘Dee’?”
I shrugged. “Since she asked me to.”
Holly eyed her mom with suspicion. Deidre stared right back, daring Holly to say more about it.
“When was that?” Holly asked.
“At our Sunday brunch,” Deidre said. “Rhett and I had quite a lovely conversation while you were fighting with Trevor and Noah.”
Holly groaned. “Can we not talk about that right now?”
“Agreed,” Trevor said, sitting to Deidre’s right. “Let’s eat.”
Holly turned her torso, facing the table while keeping her hands under the running water. “Before we carve the turkey, we go around and say three things we’re grateful for.”
I smiled. “I can handle that.”
“I’ll start,” Deidre said. She sat up straighter in her chair. The light from the gold chandelier above us reflected off her bald head. “I’m grateful for Trevor and Holly. You’ve both taken such good care of me this year. I’m grateful for doctors who want me to get better, and I’m grateful for new friends who bring light into our lives.” At that, she lifted her glass to me.
My heart swelled. I shared her sentiment. “Here, here!”
“I’ll go next,” Trevor said. He rubbed a hand along his neck. “I’m grateful for family, work, and friends.”
Holly shot him an annoyed look. “You say that every year, and you always act like it’s so hard for you to admit it. Dig deeper, Trev. I know you can do it.”
He glared at her. “Shut up and go.”
“Gladly.” She smiled smugly. “I’m grateful for family as well, because every year that goes by, I realize how much I need you all. Bratty brother included.” She shot a triumphant grin at Trevor. “I’m grateful for unexpected friendships.” She flashed me a smile that made my chest inflate like a blimp floating across the sky. “Last, I’m grateful for growth. It’s really painful sometimes, but I appreciate the opportunities we gain because of it and how much stronger we are afterward.”
My eyes widened. “Does this mean you’re thankful for everything I’ve asked you to do the past two months?”
“Maybe,” she drew out the word.
Holly had made a lot of strides since we first met. Every growth opportunity she’d taken increased the level of awe and admiration I had for her. Really, was it any wonder I was falling for her? “My turn?” I cleared my throat. “First, I want to thank you again for welcoming me into your home today. You’ve made me feel like family, and I appreciate that. I’m thankful for the people in my life who cheer me on, no matter what mistakes I make along the way. I’m thankful for friends, old and new. And I’m thankful for modern medicine that helps us physically and mentally.”
“Those are all excellent things to be grateful for,” Deidre said, looking at the three of us. Her blue eyes, just like Holly’s, were bright and happy. “Trevor, I think we’re ready. If you’ll do the honors.”
Trevor picked up an electric carving knife and sliced thick pieces of juicy meat and placed them on a serving platter. When he’d cut enough for us to eat, he sat in his chair and we passed around each dish of food. Deidre and I scooped whatever Holly requested onto her plate.
I piled my food high, covering every inch of my plate. Every morsel would be devoured and savored.
Picking up both my plate and Holly’s, I moved to the counter next to the sink to feed myself and her.
Holly jutted her chin at my plate. “A meat-and-potatoes guy, huh?”
“I have some green beans,” I pointed out. “My mom drilled the importance of fruit and vegetables into my diet.”
“I don’t think three green beans was what she had in mind.”
Three was better than none.
Deidre fluttered a hand at Holly. “He’s our guest. Leave him be, Holly.” Deidre then addressed me. “Do you have any Thanksgiving traditions in your family?”
That depended on which family we were with. I chose to speak about Mom’s side since they were a little more level-headed compared to Dad’s—and my favorite. “We also go around the table saying what we’re thankful for before eating. We play football after we eat to burn off energy before consuming pie, and we end the night playing games.” And sneaking more pie.
When I was seventeen, I took an entire Oreo pie to my room after my parents went to bed. Turned out, there was such a thing as too much dessert. Now I limited myself to two (sometimes three) slices, like a normal American on feasting day.
“What do you like to do when you’re not working?” Deidre asked.
Picking up Holly’s fork and knife, I cut her turkey into bite-sized pieces. “Lots of things. I enjoy working out, hiking, surfing, playing sports, hanging out with friends, and watching movies. What about you?”
I wasn’t sure what Deidre still had the energy to do. But I’d love to know more about the woman who’d raised Holly.
“I think you meant that question for Holly.” Deidre said with a twinkle in her eye.
I swallowed a bite of creamy, garlicky potatoes, then offered Holly a bite of her potatoes. Holly leaned forward, capturing the food waiting for her. Her mouth enveloped the white, fluffy potatoes, and almost purposefully slowly, she slid her lips off the fork. She closed her eyes, letting out a soft moan of appreciation. I wanted my lips to be that fork. How was it possible to be jealous of potatoes and a utensil?
Tearing my gaze away from her mouth, I swallowed hard. Heat curled like wisps of smoke rising in the air in my lower abdomen. Maybe feeding Holly was a bad idea.
What had Deidre said? Oh, right, that I meant to ask Holly and not her what she did for fun. “Nah.” I cleared my throat, needing to lighten up the situation. “I already know the only thing Holly likes to do in her spare time is think of ways to make her employees cry,” I joked.
Trevor laughed.
Deidre’s lips pulled to the side as if she wasn’t sure if she should laugh or be offended on Holly’s behalf.
Holly elbowed my arm. “Excuse me?”
“Am I wrong?” I asked innocently. “What do you like to do then, Chef Dewhurst?”
“I love to read, go for walks, see my friends, and shop for shoes.”
Ah yes, she’d mentioned something about shoes before Skye’s interview, and during the employee luncheon, she’d shared about reading fantasy novels. “What kind of fantasy books do you enjoy?”
“Fantasy romance,” she mumbled under her breath.
Good thing I had excellent hearing. “Not fantasy, but fantasy romance? Help this non-reader out. What’s the difference?”
She cocked her head to the side. “I think it’s pretty obvious.”
I shrugged. “Not really. Explain it to me.” I didn’t live under a rock. I very well understood the difference. But if Holly lived for romance novels, I wanted to hear her say it.
Trevor snorted. “Holly always has her nose in a book when she’s not in the kitchen. You should see the bookshelves in the basement. Crammed full of nauseating love stories.”
Holly narrowed her eyes at her brother. “You have no room to talk. You love Star Wars and Lord of the Rings more than anyone I’ve ever met.”
“I don’t have hundreds of novels about them,” he retorted.
“At least I don’t dress up and go to fan conventions.”
Deidre sighed. “That’s enough, you two,” she warned her children. “I promise they are adults, even though they don’t act like it.”
I squeezed Holly’s shoulder. “Quick question before we drop this subject. What character do you like best?” My eyes widened. “It’s alpha shapeshifters, isn’t it?”
I easily pictured Holly falling for the leader of the pack. Hmm. Did Holly see me that way? I smiled, liking the idea.
“First of all, fantasy is about way more than wolves. And I don’t have a favorite. If the characters and story are well written, I’m an equal opportunity acquirer of book boyfriends.”
Deidre nodded her head enthusiastically. “I agree with Holly.”
I had no idea what that meant, but I’d leave Holly’s love for books alone. “What do you guys usually do for the rest of Thanksgiving?”
Cutting off a bite of turkey, I shoved it in my mouth. The tender, savory meat exploded on my taste buds. Holly deserved a million gold stars for her skills. I doubted I’d had better-tasting turkey in my thirty years of life.
“We’re usually with extended family, so we play games and visit like you do,” Holly explained. “Since it’s just us this year, we decided to put up the Christmas tree tonight. Want to help?”
Did I want to be invited to help the Dewhursts put up their tree? Yes. Yes, I did. I loved Christmas. It was the one time of year Dad took off every Saturday from work to spend it with us. Growing up, we’d gone sledding and ice skating, built gingerbread houses (using store-bought kits, of course—Mom couldn’t make the dough), seen the lights, attended the Lampton Christmas fair, and watched movies together.
I swallowed the sip of water I’d taken. “If you don’t mind me imposing, I’d be happy to help.”
“Holly and Mom are very picky about ornament placement,” Trevor said. “It’s best to move out of their way once the lights are on.”
I tipped my head. “I appreciate the warning.”
“When do you usually put up your tree?” Holly asked before I offered her a bit of stuffing. “Or do you not bother with a tree since you live alone?”
My cheeks heated. Dare I admit mine was already up? I cleared my throat. “I put my tree up last weekend.” I preferred real evergreens as that’s what we had growing up, but I found an artificial tree easier to deal with as a single adult.
Holly whipped her head around, staring at me with a gaping mouth. “You did?”
I shrugged. “Christmas is my favorite holiday.” I took another sip of my drink.
She laughed. “Of course it is.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You remind me of Buddy the Elf sometimes. It’s not too surprising you love Christmas. In fact, I wouldn’t be shocked at all if you came to work in a Santa hat.”
That was pushing my love of the holiday a little too far. And if Uncle Anthony ever came in and saw me wearing that at The Boardwalk, he’d fire me on the spot for making his establishment kitschy. As a fine dining restaurant, I couldn’t see him allowing anything other than the professional decorator’s designs.
If I were still at Tony’s—yes, Uncle Anthony had named one of his diners after himself even though he couldn’t cook—I’d have the entire staff wearing Santa hats to celebrate the season.
“Nah, it doesn’t really fit our atmosphere,” I said. “But I do believe I’ll ask the decorators to put up some mistletoe in the lobby.” And in the hallway right outside our offices. If Holly and I happened to be standing there at the same time, tradition demanded we share a kiss. Thoughts of capturing Holly’s full lips with mine made fireworks explode in my chest.
Holly’s head cocked to the side. “Why mistletoe?”
“It’s pretty.” And it allowed me to kiss the woman I wanted without getting in trouble. I motioned to Holly’s plate, silently asking what she wanted another bite of.
“Sweet potatoes, please.”
I scooped a forkful of yams, holding it up to her mouth. Each bite I fed her was like sweet torture. I needed a distraction. “Trevor, what is it you do for work?”
He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I’m an actuary.”
Not a profession I would’ve pegged for Trevor. But I’d never met an actuary. Who knew what to expect? Maybe someone a little more rigid? Or who spoke about the chances of events happening more often? “Do you like it?” I asked.
“It’s stable and provides a good income.”
Snooze. “Nice.” I cut my three green beans in half and took a bite. Picking up Holly’s fork, I swirled the utensil over her plate, waiting for her to tell me what she wanted to eat next.
“Turkey, please.”
Stabbing a chunk of meat, I held it up to Holly’s mouth. Again, I had to look away. Why had I offered to help her? At this rate, I’d be dragging her off to a secluded corner of the house, replacing the fork with my lips.
“Rhett?” Holly nudged me.
Startled, my gaze jumped to her. “Yeah?”
“I asked for another bite of turkey.”
She had?