Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“Well, that wasn’t awkward.” Waving a hand, Maren gave a crooked grin. “How about January? After Christmas but before my due date.”
“We can host the shower here,” I offered, desperate to be of use in some way.
“I’m still decorating.” Caleb wagged a finger in my direction. “And we’ll need games.”
“You’d better be ready for help with planning.” A familiar voice sounded from the front entryway and excited noises swept through the room as everyone whirled to greet our latest arrival.
“Rowan!” Maren’s eyes were suspiciously damp, and I expected mine were no better. “Oh my gosh, you came!”
“So, what brings the big famous actor home for Thanksgiving?” Diesel teased.
“Hey, even big famous actors need to eat.”
There were hugs all around, and I made sure to claim one before Rowan settled next to Maren on the couch. Caleb moved to the arm of my recliner where Tony sat. The house was full to the brim, and I could not have been happier. I couldn’t remember the latest time I’d grinned this widely or laughed this much. I caught Magnus’s gaze as he strode in from the kitchen, and he gave a subtle smile that seemed meant only for me as he came to stand next to me.
“Turkey is done and resting,” he reported. “You want to help me arrange the buffet according to Wren’s diagram?”
“I’d love to.” I meant it, savoring the few moments to work together without the crowd of company. Didn’t risk a kiss or even a touch, but our joint efforts to arrange the food were joyful, with more than a few of those private looks. Can it be like this every year? The question echoed yet again in my head.
The meal itself was delightful chaos, people eating in the living room, dining room, kitchen, and in the case of Wren, perched on the staircase, surveying the scene below. There was too much food, of course, but conversation and merriment continued to flow even as people started to depart after dessert.
“So, what’s the deal with Diesel’s dad?” Rowan sidled up next to me at the dessert table as I contemplated a piece of the brandy apple pie. However, as soon as Rowan asked the question, my desire to be reminded of the night before evaporated.
“What do you mean?” I bristled. What had he noticed? Damage control. Stay neutral. I schooled my expression. Rowan might be the actor, but I had more practice. “I told you, he’s renting the carriage house after his home was lost to a fire.”
“I meant is he single?” Rowan sighed like I was the densest person on earth. “He didn’t bring a date.”
“Rowan.” I put on my sternest tone. “He’s over forty. You are nineteen. God help us.”
“Maybe I just wanted to hear the lecture.” Rowan lightly duffed my shoulder. “Don’t worry, I haven’t found any silver fox sugar daddies in Hollywood either.”
“Thank God for small miracles.” I groaned, relief and irritation mingling, along with another emotion I couldn’t name brewing low in my guy. A date. Someday, our fling would run its course, and Diesel would bring a date to some future baby shower or family event, and I would—
Nothing. I would do nothing because we weren’t even officially dating, and getting jealous over some future event that had yet to happen was beyond silly. Dramatic. And I wasn’t our reigning diva.
Oblivious to my distress, Rowan gave an artistic sigh. “Anyhoo, a bunch of drama club peeps heard I’m in town, so I’m gonna head out.”
“And leave the cleanup?” Maren clomped into the kitchen, gait taking on that late pregnancy heaviness even with two months to go. “Typical.”
“You aren’t cleaning up.” I placed my hands on her slim shoulders to turn her back toward the living room. “You are going to go sit down and choose a movie.”
“If I sit down, I’ll fall asleep.” She yawned.
“Then nap.” Magnus arrived in the kitchen in time to order Maren to the basement, pointing at the door. “We’ve got this.”
At first, we had nominal help from Wren and Diesel. John left to go somewhere with Scotty, and the other guests had departed earlier, leaving mountains of leftovers to contend with. Wren, naturally, got sidetracked researching proper storage temperatures, and they escaped upstairs in short order. Then Diesel left to check on Maren, leaving me alone with Magnus.
Not that I was complaining. I let out a happy exhale. I loved having the house full, but I loved this quiet togetherness even more.
“How does it always come down to you and me and a pair of sponges?” I joked, happiness soaking my tone.
“I don’t know, but when you put it like that, I suddenly start craving a shower.” Magnus winked at me.
“Me too.” I cocked my head. The muffled sound of a TV filtered up from the basement. Upstairs, Wren appeared to be engaged in a highly scientific argument on the phone or computer chat. Sighing, I bumped shoulders with Magnus. “No showers anytime soon.”