The dining room is in a state of chaos, as it is for every holiday. My mom’s trying to juggle the mashed potatoes, turkey platter, and the green bean casserole she insists on making every year—even though no one eats it.
Travis steps in smoothly, reaching for each item one at a time and placing them on the table.
“Mrs. Thorne, let me help you,” Nina says, springing from her chair like she’s been waiting for this moment her whole life. She hurries to the kitchen.
I catch Travis’ attention, and smirk. “How sweet. Your girlfriend’s trying to make a good impression on Mom.”
Even though he’s trying to remain cool, I don’t miss the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
“Well, she’s already made a good impression on me,” Dad adds. “She brought me a bottle of whiskey.” He raises a glass with the amber liquid and takes a sip. His eyes briefly fall closed, as if it’s the best whiskey he’s ever tasted. And knowing Nina’s expensive tastes, it probably is. “Here’s to my future daughter-in-law.”
The rest of us break into laughter. Travis doesn’t bother denying he’s interested in a more permanent future with Nina,and that makes me happy. He deserves to be with a woman who appreciates him.
Mom and Nina return with more side dishes. Travis plays host again, clearing a path and distributing the glass bowls to empty spots on the table so Mom and Nina can take their seats.
Reed kicks my foot under the table. I glance his way, and he’s smirking mischievously. I’ve seen that expression my whole life, and it usually means he’s about to annoy someone.
With a dramatic flair, Reed picks up his fork and knife, one in each hand, and bangs them against the table like a hungry Viking. “We want to eat. We want to eat.”
Drew jumps in immediately, matching his rhythm. The two of them chant like toddlers who’ve gone too long without eating.
Mom rolls her eyes, laughing. “The sooner you two stop your nonsense, the sooner we can.” And just like that, they fall silent with exaggerated obedience.
“Will you please pass me the turkey, honey?” Mom asks Dad. He plates a generous slice for himself before passing the platter to her. She takes some and hands it to Travis, who passes it to Nina. Then Dad starts the mashed potato relay, and soon every dish is in rotation. My white plate starts disappearing under a mountain of food.
When I reach for the stuffing, Reed refuses to let go of the bowl, and it tilts dangerously toward my lap.
“You two knock it off,” Mom scolds. “My God, I figured by the time you were grown men we could have a civilized dinner.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, Mom,” Reed says, not even trying to sound sincere. He lets go of the bowl, and I scoop a generous helping before handing it to Drew. It’s just the usual Thorne family Thanksgiving madness.
Well… not exactly.
My gaze slides across the table to Ginger. Her green eyes are wide as she looks around like she’s stumbled into a reality show.Her shoulders are tense, like she’s waiting for someone to launch a dinner roll at her. I’d like to say that’s never happened before, but once when we were kids, Reed accidentally nailed Aunt Mary in the face with a crescent roll. To this day, he swears it was an accident, but I still don’t believe him.
I fork some turkey and stuffing into my mouth. Ginger glances at me, and I give her a quick wink. Her lips curve into a half smile. She picks up her fork and starts eating slowly and neatly, like a civilized human.
It’s weirdly attractive.
Reed kicks my foot again.
“What?” I mutter, turning to him.
He leans in and whispers, “Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“You’re being a creeper.”
I shake my head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He snickers. “You’re not as smooth as you think you are.”
I don’t care if my brothers are aware of my feelings for Ginger, but I don’t want her to know about them. One night with her wouldn’t be enough, and there’s no way she’d agree to date me. Besides, I don’tdatewomen. I have brief flings that never amount to more than a good time.
“So, Ginger, how’s business been?” Mom asks, cutting a roll in half and buttering it.
Ginger pauses, fork in midair. “It’s been great, thanks.”
