Meet Me Halfway(91)

My father threw the ham at me.

Not on purpose of course, but intention didn’t matter much when I was staring down at the splatter of carcass fluids on my breasts, dress, and feet.

One second he was raising it from the counter, and the next he was tripping and launching it at me. It’d barely touched the ground before he was kneeling, grabbing the greasy—probably still delicious—bundle, and turning it like it needed to be checked for injuries.

I hadn’t moved a muscle, my arms still splayed out on either side of me. I was trying to decide if I should be offended by the outrageous cackling and snorts coming from my audience or laugh along with them.

My dad glanced from me to the ham, back to me, “Ten-second rule, right?”

Someone choked, and I looked over to see Layla fanning her face, wine dripping from her nose as my mother lurched across the table for a napkin.

Behind them, through the opening between my parents’ kitchen and the living room, I could make out my brother and Jamie hunched over controllers, arguing over a game and completely unaware of what was happening.

Dropping my arms, I exhaled, blowing out my cheeks. I side-stepped over the sticky mess left on the floor and headed to the roll of paper towels on the counter.

“Don’t worry, everyone, I’m fine. My boobs are still intact, and my dress is only semi-ruined, but I appreciate all the concern.”

I yanked a few sheets loose, patting them over my chest, trying to do what I could with what I had. I couldn’t be too mad about it; I would’ve laughed too. However, this dress really was one of my favorites, so I hoped it’d at least wash out.

“You know, if you wanted meat thrown at your breasts, you could have asked.” The words were whispered over my shoulder from lips hovering a hair’s breadth above my ear. It sent a shudder through me, and I couldn’t help but arch my neck slightly even as I laughed.

“For shame, Garrett Rowe, we’re at a holiday dinner.”

“We could always leave, and I’d give you a different dinner.” His hand slid between us, and I barely held in my yelp when he pinched my ass.

I reached back, whacking him on the thigh. “If you can’t behave, I’ll send you home without any dinner at all.”

“As long as I get dessert when you get there.” He leaned down, stealing my laughter with a searing kiss before sauntering off to help my dad do who knows what with the rogue ham.

I cleared my throat, smoothing down the skirt of my dress and twisting around. Both Layla and my mother were watching me, amused smiles on their faces, and I was an instant tomato.

Ignoring them, I busied myself with finishing the last of the prep work to set the table, desperately hoping Garrett kept all his dirty jokes to himself during dinner.

Garrett and I had been seeing each other for a month now, but we’d agreed not to be anything official. We just saw each other almost every day, and on days I worked too much, he’d hang out with Jamie instead.

The longest we’d spent apart was the week he flew to California with Sarah and Harry to spend Thanksgiving with his mother. He’d invited Jamie and me to join, but I’d already promised Jim I’d work the holiday guard shift and had to decline. I regretted it every day he was gone.

But still, we’d agreed to no label, no serious commitment. Sure, he’d stared down Michael when the poor man had tried to catch me alone to talk. And sure, I was pretty positive I’d cut the tongue out of any woman who tried to hit on him, but regardless. We definitely weren’t official.

I hadn’t told him I loved him yet, even though the words hovered over my mouth every time I looked at him, and he hadn’t repeated the sentiment to me since the first time. Even so, I doted on him every chance I got, and he fucked me like no one’s business behind closed doors.

Not official…at all.

Garrett was careful what he said and did around Jamie, but he considered me fair game in front of anyone else. It was after he’d set me on his lap and curled his body around me to block the wind during Jamie’s last game that my parents had invited him to spend the holiday with us this year.

Fine…we might have been a tiny bit official.





Dinner had gone much better than the prep had. No one threw anything, nor did Garrett make any more comments for my mother and Layla to swoon over.

Luckily for me, they hadn’t been able to see the hand he’d kept on my thigh almost the entire meal.

My brother and Garrett had hit it off quickly. The three-and-a-half men spent a good portion of the evening talking video games and new releases while us ladies indulged in a healthy amount of wine. It’d been one of the best evenings I’d ever had, ham stain and all.

We’d just finished cleaning up and dishing leftovers in to-go containers for everyone when I slipped away to the bathroom. I hadn’t looked in a mirror since I left my house, and I had a feeling, between the wine and how often Garrett played with my curls, I probably looked a mess.

I stepped in, but barely finished turning the knob when the door swung back open, nearly taking me with it. I darted back, making room for the bulk slipping through.

He leaned against the door, shutting it behind him, and smirking at me all the while. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Fancy meeting you here.”

“You almost hit me in the face.”