“Thank you?” His wide eyes met mine over her shoulder.
I mouthed,Will’s leafer, and he nodded as recognition dawned from our conversation at Mattie B’s.
“Y’all hop in,” Becca said after she released Ian. “I’ll drive you down to the courthouse for the award ceremony. I think they set up some outdoor heaters for the crowd.”
I told my family they could leave, but they insisted on walking down to watch. Ian told Sophia that they should head back to the house. He said it was to get George out of the cold, but I was pretty sure he was worried about all the people. There was no way Eloise Carter would pass up the opportunity to announce Dorian Masters as the co-winner of the Kirby Falls Turkey Trot. Pandemonium was likely to ensue. At the very least, there would be cameras and attention focused Ian’s way.
With a final farewell and another high five for us both, George and Sophia made their way toward the parking garage.
Darren climbed into the front seat of the golf cart beside Becca, and Ian and I sat down behind them, facing backward.
“You’re gonna want to hold on,” I warned him seconds before Becca jolted us into motion.
Ian scrambled to clutch the rail at his side. I snickered.
“Well, Coach. How’d I do?”
At his question, I swiveled to meet Ian’s gaze. “It wasn’t my best time, but it wasn’t bad. You did ... pretty good.” Truthfully, he’d done amazing. He’d averaged below seven minutes per mile, and beginners didn’t just win races their first time out—even family-fun 5Ks. It probably helped that he was in phenomenal shape. Being in his damn twenties probably didn’t hurt either.
He grinned. “So, I’m a natural, is what you’re saying.”
I shook my head and returned my attention to watch Main Street fly by, but there was a smile tugging at my lips.
“You’re a good running partner,” I told him, giving him the honesty I would have comfortably withheld, but maybe he deserved a little bit of truth. “You did great out there today.”
Ian stayed quiet, but I could feel his attention on the side of my face. I didn’t turn—couldn’t confront whatever emotion might be playing out over his features.
With my gaze on the road unfurling behind us, I noted that they’d be removing the road barriers soon and opening up downtown. The crowd would disperse, and folks would go home, most to celebrate Thanksgiving with loved ones.
I gnawed on the inside of my cheek for a moment before reaching a decision.
“You can come to Thanksgiving dinner at the farmhouse, if you want,” I said in a rush, looking at Ian. “George and Sophia and Darren, too.”
His head snapped back in my direction. We stared at each other for a longmoment, likely equally surprised by the invitation that had come out of my mouth.
I couldn’t explain it, but it felt wrong that Ian and George should spend the holiday alone. We weren’t family, but it was downright unneighborly to leave them to fend for themselves while we carried on across the highway with a huge meal. It would be a tight fit for all of us in my parents’ dining room, but we’d make it work. And I knew my mother would agree with me.
After some prolonged quiet in which Ian didn’t graciously accept or thank me for the invitation in any way, his face did something complicated before he bit down on his very obvious amusement.
“What?” I snapped. “That wasn’t a joke.”
“No, I know.” He nodded, eyes sparkling.
“I was trying to be nice.”
“You did great.”
I scowled, and he burst out laughing.
It took me a minute, but I finally caught up. “My mom already invited you, didn’t she?”
His laughter continued. “Yeah, but having you blurt it in a rush, out of nowhere, really meant a lot to me.”
Glaring, I whacked him on the thigh—his very firm thigh.
He clutched his leg dramatically. “Don’t injure me. This is an award-winning leg.”
I rolled my eyes and made to turn away.
