Page 8 of Don't Bait Me (Nora Jacobs 3)

I look at the other dishes we’ve prepared as well and have to hold back a squeal. Neither Oliver nor I can boast about our cooking skills, but dinner is turning out perfect. “I’d say it worked.” I hold up my hand to Oliver for a high five. “We did good, partner.”

Instead of slapping my hand, Oliver grabs me by the hips and slowly pulls my body against his. His gaze flits over my head and zeroes in on my mouth. I suddenly can’t breathe. Ever since he kissed me at my coming-out party, he’s become a little more aggressive in his pursuit of me. It’s both exciting and nerve-racking. And sexy.

His arm slides around my waist, keeping me pinned against him, and he raises his other hand to tuck my newly-acquired curls behind my ear. The thought in the front of his mind as he touches my skin surprises me.I love her hair like this. “You have mashed potatoes in your hair,” he says softly.

“You have stuffing on your cheek,” I answer breathlessly. My heart hammers in my chest.

“You’re both a mess,” Terrance says, wandering into the kitchen, startling Oliver and me from our moment.

I use the distraction to pull out of Oliver’s embrace. He lets me go with nothing but understanding shining in his eyes. It’s not that I don’t want him to kiss me. He kissed me once, and it was the first time I have ever been able to really enjoy a kiss without fearing the man kissing me would lose control and hurt me. I’m all about doing it again. But the problem is, Oliver isn’t the only man who wants to kiss me, and if I’m being honest, he’s not the only man I want to kiss. And that’s not fair to him. It’s better if I stop the kissing until I know what I want.

Terrance wanders over to the stove, eyeing the food we’ve prepared as if checking it to see how good of a job we’ve done. It must pass the test, because he nods his approval and then turns to us. “Both of you go get cleaned up before our guests arrive. I’ll get all this dished up and set on the table.”

I step toward him when he reaches into a cupboard for a few serving platters. “We’ve still got time. Oliver and I can do that. You just go—”

Terrance cuts me off with his best no-nonsense stare. “I’ve sat around letting you fuss over me all day. I can get the damn food on the table.”

I sigh, knowing this is an argument I won’t win. I suppose it’s a miracle I got him to rest as long as I did. Thank heavens for beer and football. “All right.” I take my messy apron off and toss it on the counter. Oliver does the same. “We’ll go make ourselves presentable. Just don’t strain yourself.”

That earns me a glare. I laugh and lift myself up to kiss Terrance’s cheek. Even with me stretched up on my tippy toes, he has to bend down for me to reach him. He does so, allowing the kiss even though he’s still frowning. “Thanks, T-man.”

He clears his throat as he rises back to his full height and shoos me off with a gruff warning to hurry.

Ten minutes later, I’ve taken the fastest shower of my life and am standing in front of the vanity mirror, studying my appearance. My eyes shoot straight to my hair. Terrance put a weak glamour on me to hide my shimmering skin and the colorful swirls of scales on my face so that I could go out in public. But he left my hair in its new full, curly look with the color streaks through it. He claimed he didn’t have enough power to cover it, but I caught a wisp of his thoughts when he’d done it, and I know he just likes it this way.

I leave the wild locks down and slip a necklace over my head that looks nice with the sweater dress I’m wearing. It’s nothing too fancy, but I want to look nice for dinner. I don’t bother with any makeup, though. I don’t need it. With the glamour, my skin no longer looks pearlescent, but there’s still a healthy glow to it that was never there before. There’s no way to downplay my looks anymore. No matter what I do, I seem to shine with radiance. It worries me. If I garnered attention before, I can’t imagine what it’ll be like now.

Pushing my fears aside, I leave my room in search of Oliver and Terrance. Now isn’t the time to worry about it. This is my first real Thanksgiving dinner, and I’m not going to let anything bring me down.

Just as I reach the living room, a loud knock sounds on the door. Butterflies explode in my stomach. “I’ll get it!”

I run up the stairs and swing the door open with a grin. Despite the rush of freezing air that blasts me, my smile doubles. Cecile is there, and she’s dressed to the nines, as if this were a formal dinner. I’m excited to see her. It’s been too long since I’ve spent any real time with another woman. “Hello, darling.” She leans forward to give me an air kiss beside my cheek. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

“You too,” I say, stepping aside to let her in.

She’s holding a covered Pyrex dish in one hand and a large poinsettia in the other. She holds the flowers out to me as she passes by. “For the hostess.”

I’m suddenly grateful for the frosty air that has my cheeks and nose turning pink, because it hides my blush as I take the poinsettia from her. I feel dumb for being so moved by the small gift, but no one has ever given me flowers before. “Thanks.”

We get downstairs, where Oliver and Terrance have changed into slacks and dress shirts. My heart squeezes in my chest. They both look so handsome, and I love that they’ve all dressed up for this dinner. My eyes sting, and I swallow a lump in my throat. It’s going to be near impossible to get through this evening without crying.

“Candied yams,” Cecile announces as she hands the dish to Terrance.

They wander into the kitchen together. I’m about to follow when my phone buzzes with a message. I check the text and smile.

Parker: I’m here, and the wolves are right behind me.

Me: Come on down. It’s unlocked.

Seconds later, the door opens and closes. I don’t hear Parker’s descent down the stairs. The man is one stealthy vampire. He clears his throat when he enters the room, earning him a smile from me and a mumbledheyfrom Oliver. He’s holding a large paper bag in each hand.

My heart stutters when I see him. He looks classically handsome in his fitted navy double-breasted peacoat and red scarf. His hair is perfectly styled, as always, and is a little wet from the snow outside. His cheeks have the slightest tint of pink in them from the cold. He’s the epitome of a men’s winter wear catalogue.

He notices me checking him out and returns the favor. I blush and look away first. It breaks his spell, and he holds out one of his bags to me. “I brought a few bottles of wine and some sparkling cider for the nondrinker.”

Terrance wanders back in the room and takes the bag. He pulls out a bottle to check out the label. He seems impressed and gives Parker a nod of approval. I’m not surprised that Parker knows his way around wine, and I’m touched that he remembered my aversion to alcohol.

“How are you feeling?” Parker asks Terrance quietly.

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