“Do you actually have something you need to see me about, or did you just interrupt work to make out?”
“Is both a reasonable answer?”
She rolled her eyes, but her smile was light and playful.
I gestured for her to sit, and then I leaned my ass on the edge of my desk, folding my hands in my lap as I looked down at her. The longer the silence passed between us, the more my heart raced in my chest.
“What?” she asked when I didn’t say anything. Then, her smile slipped. “Oh, God. Did something bad happen?”
“No, no,” I assured her, shaking my head, but the words were still lodged in my throat. I was equal parts excited and terrified over what I wanted to ask her. “Do you have plans for Thanksgiving next week?”
Sydney blinked, brows folding together in confusion. “Um… well, I have Paige. But, we’re not going anywhere, just staying home, doing a little dinner with the two of us.”
“Come to Thanksgiving at my house, instead.” I paused. “My mom’s house.”
Sydney’s eyes shot wide, her skin paling, lips parting in shock.
“Hear me out,” I said before she could answer. “Mom loves having a big Thanksgiving, and everyone will be in town since the wedding is the Saturday after. Paige will have me and my brothers to watch football with, and you could meet everyone before…” I swallowed. “Noah knows I have a plus one to the wedding, but I haven’t told him who it is yet. And I just thought…”
Sydney’s expression morphed slowly into a soft smile. “Jordan, I’d love to join you and your family for the holiday.”
“Really?” I let out a long, relieved breath.
She nodded. “Yes. But… can we just…”
She paused, standing and moving until she was between my legs, and my hands moved to her hips instinctively while her own pressed into my chest.
“For now… can we just tell everyone we’re friends?”
My shoulders sagged.
“Not for much longer,” she said quickly. “I just… I want to talk to Paige first, and with playoffs in full swing right now, and the holiday, and the wedding… it’s just a lot.” She swallowed. “I also think I need to tell Randy. He needs to hear it from me.”
“You don’t owe him anything.”
“I know, but… it might save some drama in the long run.” She shook her head. “I’m scared, for many reasons, and I know it’s asking a lot of you, I know this was my part of the deal, but… I’m asking, anyway. I need a little more time. Okay?”
The next breath that came through my nose was short and hot, but I nodded, though my chest was tight. “Okay,” I agreed. “But, if I’m being honest, I don’t think my family will buy it.”
She smirked at that, lacing her arms around my neck and pressing a kiss to my chin. “I don’t think so, either. But, I appreciate you letting me do this the way I need to. I’ll talk to Paige as soon as we make it through this busy time, okay? And then…”
“And then you’ll be mine.”
Her brown eyes searched mine, and she shook her head, pressing up on her toes to kiss me long and slow before she whispered, “I already am.”sJordan“No, Betty, you’re supposed to break the wish bone with someone,” Ruby Grace explained to Betty Collins, who was holding both sides of a broken turkey bone in her hands. “And whoever gets the bigger piece is the one who gets the wish.”
“Exactly. That’s why I broke it on my own — better odds that way.” She pointed the bigger piece of the bone at Ruby Grace. “That’s just simple math, sweetheart.”
Betty was a feisty old woman who’d been brought into our life courtesy of Ruby Grace and her time at the nursing home. She and Mom had become fast and furious friends, and she quickly became part of our family.
Ruby Grace rolled her eyes, but smiled still, taking the pieces of bone from Betty to toss out before she continued working on the stuffing she was making.
Mom had been trying to shoo her out of the kitchen all morning, repeatedly pointing out that Ruby Grace was a bride-to-be and should be relaxing two days before her wedding — not cooking. But Ruby Grace insisted she wanted to be in the kitchen, and Mallory and Kylie were helping, too.
I’d never seen Mom so frazzled at a Thanksgiving before. The poor woman didn’t know what to do when she had actual help in the kitchen.
“Can I help with anything, Mrs. Becker?” Sydney asked, already reaching for a knife where sweet potatoes were waiting to be diced up for the casserole.
Mom swatted her hand away, and then instantly reddened, covering her mouth with wide eyes. “Oh, dear. I’m so sorry. I just…”
I chuckled, grabbing my mom by the shoulders with a tender squeeze. “Why don’t you come hang out with your sons in the living room and let the ladies work? I can’t remember the last time you took a Thanksgiving off.”