Moore than a Feeling (Moore Than a Feeling #1; Needing Moore #4)

by Julie A. Richman

  “Are you actually going to pick up the phone and invite me?” CJ stared into her ex-husband’s eyes.

  “Probably not. But Mia’s a lot nicer than I am.”

  Schooner shifted his gaze from CJ to Holly. The table fell silent as father and daughter locked eyes. Finally, Schooner spoke, his voice gruff. “I miss you. I miss you so damn much it physically hurts.”

  Mia looked down at her plate so no one would see her eyes well up. She had felt Schooner’s pain, day in and day out, for the past few months, a hole in his world that sucked out oxygen and sunshine. He had been emotionally gasping in the dark as he tried to sort out how to come to terms with his beloved daughter’s choices.

  “I hate that there is distance between us,” he went on. “My world and my heart have had a gaping hole in them for months now. I want that to end. Now. I need that to end now. Can we do that?”

  With tears streaming down her cheeks, Holly nodded and was out of her chair the moment her father rose. Wrapped in his arms, she cried into his shirt.

  Dipping his head, Schooner whispered in her ear, “This has to be behind us, okay.”

  Looking up, Holly nodded, fighting to hold back the next torrent of tears.

  “I miss you, too, Holly.” Natie surprised everyone with his declaration as he watched his father hug his older sister. While Nathaniel could not grasp the circumstances of Holly’s absence, he only knew that he missed having her as a constant in his world.

  “Me, too,” Portia chimed in.

  Sitting down again, Schooner continued, “Holly, I am thankful we are all together as a family.” His gaze moved down the table. “Tom. What can I say? This is as awkward for me as it is for you. I don’t think there are any circumstances we could have met under that wouldn’t have been strained, but we’ve managed to take it to the next level. Despite that, I hope you enjoy your Thanksgiving meal.”

  “You’re too kind,” Lois muttered.

  Schooner smiled at his in-laws. “Lois, I’m glad you love me,” he laughed, thinking Mia did something really mean putting Tom down at the end of the table with her mother and Seth. Everyone thought she was so sweet to invite him, but a single holiday was about to turn into a season from hell for that man. Mia knew just what she was doing, he mused. “And I love the both of you. Lois, you gave us quite the scare earlier this year.” A very serious look overtook Schooner’s face. “Don’t do that again.” Pausing, he played to his audience before his trademark smile overtook his handsome face. “I am so thankful you both are healthy and felt well enough to come up for the holiday.” Moving his attention to Portia, “Well, young lady, you and your little rascal brother,” he looked at Natie, “are absolutely the Fountain of Youth. And I know you’re thinking, ‘Daddy, what are you talking about’?”

  Portia nodded, and everyone laughed.

  “Yeah, I know. You two make me feel younger and more connected to the world than I ever imagined possible and I’m thankful that you both make me laugh every single day.” Setting his sights on Seth, “I am thankful that you are Mia’s wingman in every part of her world. But more than anything, I’m thankful you keep her in line.”

  Mia swatted him in the arm as everyone chuckled.

  Directing his attention to Henry, he continued, “I don’t think anybody but the two of us can understand what we have weathered together. I’m thankful that through business and through Seth you have become part of my everyday world again. It’s comforting to know there is someone out there who will always have my back and lend a hand when the surf gets rough. You’ve always been that for me for almost my entire life. Yeah, I am definitely fortunate and incredibly thankful.”

  Finally, he had made his way around the entire table to Mia. The long way. But he had made it. Reaching out, he took her hand. “Everything I want, I have, whenever you are in my arms. Everything. Thankful doesn’t even begin to describe my level of gratitude. You make me whole, happy and content. And for that I am thankful.” Leaning toward one another, he placed a soft kiss on her lips.

  Mia looked around the table at her guests, “He really doesn’t need much egging on. Next year you’ll keep your mouths shut, and the food will still be hot when you eat it.”

  Looking at Schooner, she shook her head in mock disdain, but the smile on her face told the real story. She had hung on his every word and would forever be thankful, for second chances, and for Schooner Moore finding his way back into her life.

  Turning back to her guests, Mia smiled. “Please help yourselves and dig in, everybody.”

  With everyone focused on the food, the tension eased.

  “The turkey is delicious. It is so juicy. Did you brine this, Mia?” Henry asked.

  Before Mia could speak, Seth answered for her. “BBC has the best brine recipe and she actually created it herself, without my help.”

  “The white meat is delicious,” Lois commented. “I can taste the citrus and herbs. It’s so juicy it doesn’t even need gravy.”

  “Nobody likes a dry turkey.” The words were out of Mia’s mouth, and although meaningless to everyone else at the table, flooded Mia with a Thanksgiving Day memory that made the back of her throat burn as she held back tears.

  “Excuse me.” Forcing a smile, Mia stood and left the table.

  Escaping to the master bedroom, she sat on the edge of the bed hoping for a moment where she could sit in silence, take a deep breath, and gather the strength to keep smiling. The past, which usually just danced around the corners of her mind, had ventured out of the shadows into full light, promenading underneath the chandelier illuminating her Thanksgiving table. Either Tom or CJ would be enough to conjure up old memories of pain and rejection long ago dismissed, but having them here together was rousing emotions best left buried. As positive as she tried to be, Mia could feel her edges fraying.

  Nobody likes a dry turkey. She shivered as those words poked into her mind again. Hugging her arms tightly to her chest she told herself, pull it together. He was the only one from her past whom Mia would have loved to have sitting at her Thanksgiving table. And he was the only one who wasn’t there.

  “Someday in Heaven, Michael, I’ll tell you all about this crazy Thanksgiving.” She sighed, “I wish you were here and not them. My past may be in that room today, but you’re here with me, in my heart.”

  As she walked out of the bedroom, Schooner approached. “I was just coming to look for you. Are you okay?”

  Nodding, she smiled up at him.

  “C’mere, Baby Girl.” Schooner opened his arms for his wife, pulling her to him, his lips in her hair.

  “I needed this hug,” she said into his cotton shirt, breathing in deeply, and letting his clean scent activate whatever it was in her brain that told her she was safe.

  “You know what?” he smiled. “Me, too.”

  As Mia took her seat, Nathaniel turned to her. “Mommy, can I have more?”

  “You ate everything on that plate?” She was surprised to see his entire plate cleaned off, vegetables and all.

  “If we had a dog, I would think the dog licked your plate clean. But we don’t have a dog, so it must be you,” Mia kidded her son. “What would you like more of?”

  “Everything,” he exclaimed dramatically. “It’s so delicious.”

  “We’re going to have to have an eating contest, because I think you can eat more than me, Natie,” challenged Zac.

  “I can.” Nathaniel started on his second plate of the heavy Thanksgiving food.

  “Natie, you’re a pig,” Portia called from down the table.

  “I’m not a pig. You’re a pig.” He didn’t skip a beat eating to answer his sister, who responded by snorting.

  “Mia.”

  Mia could hear the tone in her mother’s voice saying discipline your children. With Mia being an only child, Lois hadn’t had the experience of raising multiple children, with one being all boy.

  “Oh Mom, this is mild, we haven’t gotten to the burping and farting portion of th
e show yet.”

  An appalled CJ just stared at Mia and the younger generation of Moore children, as if she’d never seen small children find bodily functions hysterical. Certainly not from her well-bred children.

  And then her son chimed in, egging on his younger brother. “It’s probably best you don’t burp the alphabet, Natie.”

  Not needing any further encouragement, he burped the letter A.

  Stifling a laugh, Schooner quickly morphed into his serious dad face. “Enough of that, Nathaniel. That is not appropriate at the dinner table.”

  “You got me in trouble,” Nathaniel called out Zac.

  “Yeah and you fell for it,” the older brother shot back, regressing fifteen years in a mere matter of minutes.

  Lily regarded her fiancé with a disturbed look on her face, “I feel like I’m in the movie Big and you’re twelve years old. Are you the same guy with the Masters in Engineering from Berkeley?”

  Mia laughed, “Get used to it, Lily. Men can morph into teenage boys in a nanosecond.”

  Lois couldn’t pass up the opportunity to piggyback an insult on the last comment, “Is that why they remain attracted to teenage girls?” Her eyes were trained on Tom.

  Tom appeared to be poised for a comeback and then thought better of it.

  And Lois went on. This man had hurt her daughter deeply and a mother never forgets that. “You’ve grown old, Tom. Why don’t you grow up?”

  There was silence at the table, everyone waiting for the person next to them to grab the conversation and expertly steer it to a neutral subject. A moment of silence passed, only to be punctuated by the unmistakable growl of vomiting as Nathaniel heaved his dinner, all cast in a red glow onto his plate and down the front of his shirt.

  “Ugh, that candy apple. Too much sugar.” Mia grabbed her son leading him from the table quickly.

  Schooner jumped up and grabbed the offending plate off the table.

  “Well, that concludes the dinner portion of tonight’s show,” Seth announced. “Please make yourselves comfortable in the great room and we’ll have coffee and dessert in a little while.” He grabbed some plates and headed toward the kitchen to help Schooner.

  “That child has impeccable timing.” Seth began to place bowls on the counter.

  “I know, doesn’t he?” Schooner looked up from the sink with a smile. “So, how much has my mother-in-law had to drink tonight?”

  “I don’t think much at all.” Seth shook his head.

  “Seriously? She’s been even more outspoken than usual.”

  Giving Schooner a conspiratorial grin, he confided in a low voice, “She may have given you your favorite cookies as a gift today, but you gave her an even better present,” he paused. “You handed her on a silver, no-pun-intended, platter, a guest she could make an appetizer out of. She has been chomping at the bit to chew him up and spit him out for nearly two decades.” As Schooner listened, Seth went on. “He was actually around before me, but even when I came along, I remember Lois never liking him at all. And then with cheating on Mia, that woman has had a lot of years of pent-up, I-told-you-so anger going on. Add on top how upset you’ve been about Holly, and how much she loves you. So, when you think about it, she’s actually been kind of restrained tonight. But the evening’s still young.” He laughed.

  Henry entered with an armful of dirty dishes, “Well, that all went better than expected.” He looked at Seth and Schooner and the three men laughed. “Are you serving popcorn for dessert?” he kidded his old buddy.

  Laughing, “That would have been a good thought, so everyone could sit back and enjoy this warped psychodrama unfold. You just can’t make this shit up.”

  “Exactly,” Henry nodded at his old friend. “I’ll help Seth with the clean-up so that you can go see how Mia and Natie are doing.”

  As Schooner exited the kitchen area, he noticed Tom looking around.

  “Bathroom?” Tom asked.

  “Follow me.” Schooner led the way through the vast loft space. “The first door on the left,” he pointed out and continued to the master bedroom suite.

  Locking the door to the guest bathroom, Tom drew in a deep breath. He knew today was going to be rough, but he’d just been thinking about his interactions with Mia and Holly’s father and mother and had not even factored Lois Silver or Seth Shapiro into the equation. Seth had been pretty controlled, and he assumed that he was maintaining a low profile in front of his significant other. But Lois, well, that woman was relentless. And something was way off with Holly’s mother. The woman was seriously beautiful, but he couldn’t get the vision of a coiled-up snake out of his head, and he was on edge, waiting for her to spring. Or maybe it was just his imagination. Maybe she’d already said her peace before dinner and now was just going to enjoy some rare time with her children. He smiled thinking about little Nathaniel flirting with CJ earlier in the evening. She looked like his Holly, so he was drawn to her, not even noticing that the woman possessed none of the warmth of her daughter.

  Locking the door behind him, Tom took refuge in the small space. Anything just to get away from these people, he thought. Absentmindedly gazing into the mirror over the streamlined pedestal sink, he pumped soap from the dispenser onto his hands and was hauled from his thoughts as the wafting fragrance filled his senses. The scent was unmistakable.

  Picking up the bottle of Bath & Bodyworks’ Summer Sail, he eyed the label for a moment. Shit, I smell like Holly’s father now. Great, that should make the rest of the evening even more pleasant. I have the scent of him on me.

  And shaking his head, he realized it was just a doomed day. And frankly, that came as no surprise. Unlocking the door, he grasped the knob, poised to turn it as he felt the smooth metal handle move within his grasp although he hadn’t turned his hand. Still holding on, he took a step backward as the door jerked open and she slipped in, closing it behind her with a mere flick of her wrist. Her back was against the door before his mind could even process what was happening. His initial reaction was, Oh, thank God, Holly.

  But it wasn’t Holly. Not even close.

  “CJ.” He was surprised. “I was just leaving.”

  “Not so fast, Professor.”

  As he moved forward, she stopped him with a hand to his groin. Bullseye. She had him cupped in her hand and he immediately began to twitch. CJ had plucked a classic out of her bag of tricks, recycling a variation of what she had once pulled on their host.

  “You want to know what I think?” her voice was breathy, her eyes trained on his, as her hand began to apply slight pressure and her thumb started a steady up and down motion, resulting in his hardening in her hand.

  “I think you’re going to tell me.” His voice was calm and even, holding her stare, it appeared as if he were oblivious to what was going on between his legs. But they both knew that was impossible.

  “I think you are afraid you won’t cut it when a real woman drags you to the edge. Afraid you won’t be able to play there.” Loosening her grip on his pants, his body immediately reacted to the void left by the lack of contact and he pressed forward into her touch.

  “Why are you doing this?” his voice was little more than a whisper.

  As her hand slid up the front of his pants, she smiled, answering, “Because I can.” Working her way up to his zipper, she stopped to squeeze, pleased with herself that the man was rock hard in his pants. It only took a moment to unzip his fly and have her hand wrapped around his flesh. Holly’s boyfriend, Mia’s ex, was now exactly where she wanted him. It was time she made her mark and left him with very few good options.

  “Have you ever been with someone who doesn’t look up to you as a god, someone you have to work hard,” she squeezed him for emphasis, “to impress. Someone who challenges you and stimulates you,” she stroked him while maintaining eye contact, “on every level.”

  “And what makes you think I don’t have that with your daughter?”

  CJ ran a well-manicured finger over the top of his crown,
applying slight pressure and pausing as she reached the slit, then slowly removed her hand from his pants and gazed down. Tom’s eyes followed hers down to her glistening forefinger. Looking back up at him, she smiled, a smile almost identical to her daughter’s, but not quite.

  As if in slow motion, she raised her finger to her lips and grazed her lower lip as if she were applying lip gloss with his semen. Her tongue flicked out the corner of her mouth, tasting with just the tip as the rest remained slick on her full bottom lip.

  “Oh, come on, Tom. My daughter is in her twenties and we both know how,” she paused, looking for the right word, “unformed we were at that age. Hell, you were sleeping with Mia when you were that age.” Her nose wrinkled in disdain at the mere thought. “And tonight, when you’re fucking my daughter, you’ll be fighting yourself just trying to stay present, because we both know what you’ll be thinking about.” She licked the rest of her bottom lip. “I’ve tasted you.”

  “Maybe it will get me off even more to know both mother and daughter have tasted me.” He was fighting fire with fire.

  “Really?” CJ called him out on what she knew was a lie. “Well, I can guarantee you my daughter won’t think it’s so hot. She is her father’s daughter and has a very different sense of right and wrong than you and I do.”

  “I’m not like you.” He shook his head.

  CJ looked down at what was now a semi poking out of his fly and reaching out, she grazed it with the tips of her nails, smiling as he responded with a visible throb.