Always been You

by Mia Scott

  "Blondie's tolerating me for James's sake, but I love turkey, so I'll be there. And it'll give me a chance to watch you try and keep your hands off me for a few hours. Sounds highly entertaining if you ask me," he drawled.

  "Well, I don't have to keep them to myself now, so why don't you let me have them back and I'll put them to good use?" she smiled wickedly.

  "Totally hot, Larrington," he grinned, releasing her hands.

  Big had just gotten home from a grueling night on the job and was looking forward to several hours of uninterrupted sleep before going over to Maggie's for Thanksgiving dinner. His stomach growled, and he poured himself a huge bowl of Cap'n Crunch and plopped down on the couch, switching on the television. The parade was on and he hit record, so he could watch Alisha later. (Whatever, okay? The chick he was banging on the regular was performing on TV. That shit was awesome.) Al Roker's enthusiasm and Meredith Viera's twatty face annoyed him instantly as he shoveled the cereal into his mouth. He was now supremely glad he didn't have to suffer through how fucking tall Snoopy was and could just fast forward through this shit later, watch Alisha and call it a damn day. Unlacing his boots and toeing them off, he stripped off his work clothes and fell face down against the couch, sleep taking hold soon after.

  Sometime later, his phone blared to life on the coffee table, rousing him from his slumber. He opened one bleary eye and groaned. Picking up the annoying object, he barked a gruff "What, woman?"

  "Watch your smart mouth, Jake Biggerman," Rosemary Biggerman snapped authoritatively. "And turn on the TV. That lovely and talented Jewish girl from Chicago is on the parade. Jake, have you asked her out yet? Oh, just listen to her."

  Big rolled his eyes and sat up on the couch, rubbing his tired eyes. "I can't listen, Ma! You're yapping in my goddamn ear."

  "Jake Ishmael Biggerman, so help me, I will reach through this phone and slap you back to New York!"

  The three-name call made him wince and he turned the TV on, instantly seeing Alisha's face on the screen beside her blonde co-star as they sang It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

  "Are you watching?"

  "Yes, Ma!" Fuck!

  "She has such a wonderful voice. Though I do wonder why she couldn't sing a Hanukkah song. She is Jewish."

  "Because they all suck," he muttered, though he briefly imagined her singing The Hanukkah Song by Adam Sandler and stifled a snort.

  "Jake!"

  "Rosemary! You're missing the song by talking."

  They sat quietly on the phone for the remainder of the song. He could practically hear the wheels turning in her head all the way from motherfucking Staten Island. She sure as shit couldn't know what was going on between him and Alisha. Alisha. He knew that he probably shouldn't even think her name lest he wanted his mother to zero in on his brainwaves with her Kreskin-like powers. But still, she looked adorable bundled up in her black and white coat with a red hat on her head, smiling and waving to the crowd as the camera cut away to commercial.

  "Happy Thanksgiving, Mama," he told her warmly, switching the TV off again.

  "Thank you, Jake. Happy Thanksgiving to you. What are your plans for today? I wish you could've come home this year."

  "Me, too," he agreed. "Next year. You and Sarah going to Aunt Dinah's today?"

  "Yes. I've been baking pies for two days. What are your plans? You're not staying home alone are you?"

  He smiled. "No, Ma, I'm going with James to…" he trailed off. Shit.

  "Going with James where, Jake?" Rosemary pressed.

  "To his girlfriend's apartment for dinner," he finished. Jesus God. Here it comes.

  "Maggie? That lovely girl who is friends with Jewish Alisha?" (That was her name now. Jewish Alisha.) "Oh, are you and Alisha spending Thanksgiving together, Jake?" she asked hopefully.

  "Ma, please. I dunno what she's doing, I'm not her keeper. I got invited by my best friend to eat some good food and I'm going to go do that and then watch football."

  "Jake—"

  "I'm beat, Ma. I just got off work two hours ago. Can your favorite and best-looking child please get some sleep?"

  "Of course, though I love you both equally and you're both gorgeous. Happy Thanksgiving, sweetie."

  "Happy Thanksgiving, Ma. Love you."

  "I love you, Jake. And ask Alisha out," she called as the line went dead.

  Big shook his head and laid back down, burying his head under the pillow.

  Chapter 14

  "There's our little starlet," Maggie warmly greeted, looking up from the sink where she was peeling potatoes when Alisha walked into the spacious kitchen. "You looked and sounded fantastic, Lisha!"

  "Thank you, Maggie," Alisha beamed, setting down the carrier of pies she'd brought with her. She wrapped her arms around her friend for a quick hug. "Happy Thanksgiving." She opened a cabinet and grabbed an apron. "What do you need help with?"

  "Can you get started on the dressing? The bread is already dried out. It's in that bowl over there. I hope we have enough food," Maggie said, looking nervously around the kitchen.

  Alisha snorted out a laugh. She was fairly certain there was enough food to feed two armies. "I think we'll be okay, Fabs."

  "Well, James eats a ton and I would assume Big does as well," she shrugged. "And I've seen you eat Thanksgiving dinner before, so I should probably send you back to the market for another sack of potatoes." Maggie made a silly face and Alisha laughed.

  "Hardee har," Alisha snapped, without heat. She put a gigantic skillet on the stove and added three sticks of butter. The smells in the kitchen were heavenly and she couldn't wait to tear into some food later. She methodically chopped onions and stalks of celery, adding them to the pan. "What time is everyone else getting here?"

  Maggie glanced at the large clock mounted on the wall. "Hard telling with them. Any time really. Are you going to be okay with Big here today?"

  Alisha continued sautéing vegetables and nodded casually, even as her blood sang just hearing his name mentioned. "I already told you it's not a problem."

  "I know you did," Maggie evenly responded, looking up from potato duty. "I don't know what came over me, but when James said Big wasn't working and he wasn't going home for the holidays, I just invited him over. No one should be alone during the holidays. Even that Neanderthal," she added with a sigh.

  A smile lit across Alisha's face. "You're softening," she teased. "Seems love agrees with you, my friend." She lifted her head met her friend's eyes.

  "We're not—" she began, but the arch of Alisha's eyebrow stopped her. With color flooding her cheeks, she blurted, "I am one hundred percent, completely and ridiculously in love with James Keller."

  She pressed a hand to her chest. "Sweetie, that's amazing!" Alisha gushed.

  Maggie shook her head, started pacing around the kitchen. "It's insane! We've only been together for a couple of months. How can I already be in love with him? I'm not this person. I make fun of the people that are totally ass over teakettle after a few months and look at me now! I'm one of them," she cried, gesticulating wildly.

  Alisha opened a cabinet and pulled out two wineglasses, pouring them each a full glass of white. Handing one to Maggie, she looked at her encouragingly. "But?"

  "He's it for me. I know it…I feel it. It's just—he's just—everything," she finished, tilting the glass to her lips and drinking deep. Her eyes brimmed with tears and a few spilled over as she started a hybrid of hysterical laughing and sobbing.

  "Aw, honey," Alisha cooed, setting down her glass to wrap her friend in a hug. "I'm so happy for you," she murmured against her blonde head. And she was really and truly happy for her best friend. Her own eyes stung and went blurry with unshed tears. "Have you told him how you feel?"

  "N-n-noooo!" she cried.

  Alisha pressed her lips together to stifle the giggle that bubbled up in her throat. "Fabs, you should tell him. I'm willing to bet anything that he feels the same way about you."<
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  Maggie lifted her head from Alisha's shoulder and glanced up into reassuring brown eyes. "You think so?" she sniffled.

  Big followed James through Maggie's apartment and his mouth instantly watered. His belly was going to be nice and happy later and for that, he felt very thankful. He carried the case of beer and bottle of wine he'd brought (hey, he wasn't raised in a barn no matter how many times he'd been accused) into the kitchen and ran straight into James's back when the taller man stopped abruptly. "Jesus, James. Been walking long?" He looked around his tall frame and saw Maggie and Alisha hugging each other and crying. "The fuck are they crying for?" he muttered loud enough for James to hear.

  "Maggie?" James began carefully. "You okay, babe?"

  Her head shot up and her terrified gaze sought comfort in Alisha's warm and reassuring smile. She nodded slightly and brushed away the tears. With one last you can do it from her friend, Maggie went and stood before her boyfriend, looking way up to meet his kind eyes. "We need to talk," she smiled, lacing her fingers through his and leading him out of the kitchen.

  Embarrassed that she had tears in her eyes, Alisha tried to discreetly wipe them away with the back of her hand before turning and offering Big a watery smile.

  His brows knit together as his mind ran over possible reasons for the tears. "Jesus, Maggie's not knocked up, is she?" he asked.

  Alisha barked out an incredulous laugh. "What? No!" she said, shaking her head adamantly.

  Big expelled a breath and bridged the gap between them, reaching out the pad of his thumb to gently wipe away a stray tear on her cheek. "What's with the waterworks?"

  "Nothing. Maggie and I were just having a total girl moment. All's well." The dimple on her chin winked when she flashed him a genuine smile. "Hi," she started over. "Happy Thanksgiving."

  He shook his head, deciding that he'd never in ten zillion years understand teary women. But seeing as the tears weren't his fault and she was now smiling and wishing him Happy Thanksgiving, he damn well knew better than to question it. "Happy Thanksgiving," he smirked. Looking over his shoulder and seeing no one, he decided to take advantage of their moment of privacy. He leaned down and captured her lips with his, savoring their sweet warmth for a brief moment. The stern, warning look she attempted when he stood to his full height made him chuckle.

  "We need to be careful," she whispered heatedly. The admonition quickly fell away when those full, sexy lips of his quirked into a lopsided grin and it made her feel tingly and warm all over. "Seriously," she added, smirking this time. Turning her attention to the bottle of wine in his hand she lifted her eyes to his and arched a brow.

  "My mama raised me right," he laughed, handing her the bottle.

  A crafty smile stretched over her pout. "And how is your mother? I trust our wedding plans are progressing nicely," she teased, turning her attention back to the pots on the stove.

  He leaned against the counter and smirked down at her, shaking his head and muttering something under his breath about her being evil. "Your name is now Jewish Alisha just, so you know. The ol' yenta called me this morning to natter on about seeing you in the parade. She thought you were wonderful—though not as wonderful as you could have been had you sang a Jewish song."

  Alisha laughed and picked up her glass of wine. "You shouldn't talk about your mother that way."

  "Whatever. She's bat shit crazy. I'm sure you have a nice normal mother. Me, I've got Rosemary Biggerman." He noticed the smile on her face falter and a hint of sadness ghost in those brown eyes of hers. Shit.

  "I don't have a mother," she told him simply.

  "Shit. I'm sorry," he offered lamely," running a hand over the back of his head.

  Her smile returned, and she shifted to look at him. "Don't be. That's just a fact of my life—I don't have a mother and I never have. Well, I mean she gave birth to me of course, but she never took care of me outside the womb. I have two amazing dads though."

  Big's brows furrowed together. "You have two…" then he remembered the picture in her room. Oh. Oooooh. "Hey, right on," he shrugged. "That's two more than I've got," he told her flippantly, scratching his eyebrow and grabbing a beer.

  The corners of her mouth turned down as she stared at his back. "I'm—"

  "Don't say sorry," he told her flatly, turning back towards her. "Because I'm not. Mitch Biggerman is a worthless piece of shit that was a drunk on the good days and liked to slap his wife and kids around on the bad. I'm not the least bit sorry dear old Dad's not around anymore." The muscles in his jaw clenched tightly and he wasn't sure why the hell that had just come pouring out. He hadn't talked or thought about his sperm donor in a long time.

  "Jake," Alisha said softly, laying her hand gently on his arm.

  The use of his first name hadn't gone unheard. If it wasn't used under these circumstances, he might have enjoyed the sound of it on her lips. "Alisha, seriously, he's not worth the oxygen," he insisted. He brought the can to his lips and took a big gulp, ending his participation in this particular conversation.

  With a slight nod, she turned her attention back to cooking. She knew better than to press when family issues were involved.

  "And what's with the Jake business?" he asked lightly, leaning back against the counter again.

  Deflection it is, she thought, her lips twitching from his statement. She slanted her eyes towards the door before sliding them back in his direction. "I can't call you Jake?" she asked coyly. His full lips pursed, making the sexy chin dimple pop. Her head cocked to the side and she looked up at him under lowered lashes. "You put your dick in me on a regular basis—I think I can use your given name from time to time." She smiled kittenishly when his eyebrow quirked up in surprise. Light and fun—those were their terms—and so far, they'd served them both very, very well. He chuckled and twisted a lock of long, dark hair around his finger briefly, bringing the beer to his lips once again, not taking his eyes off hers.

  "Touché, Alisha."

  The front door opened, and Russell's voice called throughout the apartment. Alisha gave Big one last knowing smile before moving around the kitchen to grab the remaining ingredients for her dish.

  "Happy eat yourself into a coma day," Russell called happily, breezing into the kitchen, his boyfriend, Adam, close behind.

  Alisha popped the baking dish into the oven and set the timer. "Happy Thanksgiving!"

  Big nodded at both of the men and muttered a few words before brushing past them on his way to the living room.

  Russell and Adam both angled their heads and watched him go, appreciating that fine male specimen.

  "I saw that," Alisha called in a sing-song voice.

  "Well, Lisha, just because we're happy and committed, doesn't mean we're blind or dead," Adam said with a wry grin, making Alisha chuckle. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Happy Turkey Day, doll face."

  "Same to you, buddy," Alisha said warmly.

  "Where's Q?" Russell asked.

  "She and James are talking somewhere—probably professing their love to one another," she smiled. "They're so sweet." Alisha gathered all the plates and silverware that she needed and headed for the dining room.

  Russell waited until she was out of earshot and gave Adam a pointed look. "Well?"

  Adam shook his head as he poured them each a glass of wine. "I think you're reaching—I don't see it."

  "Pfft! I stand by what I told you last week," he said, lowering his voice. "Alisha and Big are totally doing it. I'm now 99% sure."

  Laughing, he took a sip of his wine, handed a glass to Russell. "Okay, you've now gone up two percentage points from last week. What brought that on?"

  "His cologne," he nodded seriously. Adam snorted into his glass. "You laugh now, mister sister, but I'm willing to bet my new Gucci loafers that those two are a making the beast with two backs at every available opportunity."

  "What does his cologne have to do with it?"

  "The cologne he's wearing today? I smelled it on Alisha last week when I
was at her apartment. She took forever to open the door and she looked, for lack of a better word, thoroughly had, when she finally did."

  "Why don't you just ask her? Have you said anything to Maggie?"

  Russell gave his boyfriend his best withering bitch, please look. "Of course not. Hello! Please keep up." Adam rolled his eyes. "We can't tell Maggie because she still doesn't like Big much and she would probably talk Alisha into putting a stop to sexing him up. I can't talk to Alisha about it because she's clearly trying to hide this and once light gets shed on it, she'll retreat and possibly miss out on something great."

  "Then why are you so hell Bent on figuring it out. Why not just let Alisha live her life and stay out of it?"

  "It's like you don't know me at all," Russell sniffed. "Because I'm helping—just, you know, in a behind-the-scenes, puppet master kind of way. What's the name of that cute guy in your office that I wanted to fix Alisha up with?"

  "Mark?" Adam asked, struggling to follow Russell's train of thought.

  "Yes! Perfect," Russell exclaimed, clasping his hands together.

  "Oh, no—I know that look. What are you up to?" Adam asked hesitantly.

  "I'm merely collecting information and testing a few theories. Just follow along at dinner."

  The large dining room table was impeccably and ornately decorated and large dishes of food spanned nearly every inch of available surface. Everyone took a seat and raised a glass in toast of the holiday. Alisha saved Big, who was seated across from her, for last. He shot her a sexy little smirk before tapping his glass to hers. "Let's eat," she announced, averting his gaze as warmth surged to her cheeks. It was really proving difficult to keep their—whatever—a secret.

  Conversation and laughter flowed around the table as they ate, and Maggie was remarkably more relaxed since she'd told James that she loved him. Her happiness multiplied when he told her he felt the same. She felt a tiny bit guilty for rushing off like that and leaving Alisha in charge of fixing the rest of the meal. But, she and James had gotten a little carried away after their verbal I love you exchange with some physical expression and they'd lost track of time. She leaned over to Alisha. "Thanks for getting everything finished. I'm really sorry about abandoning you."