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“I don’t count.”
“See, this is why I’m not married,” Noah muttered.
Hunter stooped to pick up Cujo. “Come on, buddy, Mommy is just a little worried her turkey is too dry.”
“My turkey is perfect, jackass. Get!”
“I don’t know why I’m in trouble. Sammy was more than happy to take a chunk out of the turkey leg as well.”
“Cujo started it.”
“It’s always our fault,” Hunter said with a huff.
Noah slapped Hunter on the back. “The quicker you realize this, the more blissful your marriage will be, son.”
Tristan washed his hands, then moved to the platter. He tested a small bite and was happy to realize the turkey was perfect. Her cooking lessons were paying off. Kennedy had barely used the microwave before they met. As usual, Kenny did everything well, including take to cooking.
He moved the turkey leg to the bottom of the platter and fanned out the meat to fill the hole.
Kennedy came back in and blinked down at his handy work. “It took me fifteen minutes to make that pretty and you fix it in two?”
He shrugged. “You plate three hundred meals a week and you get fast at presentation.”
She held up a bottle of Rock Wall Viognier wine. “Would you like a glass?”
He nodded. “Wow, you took all the details in my email to heart.”
“I like my research. And it was a new wine to try, which I like very much, so thanks.”
He accepted the glass from her. “Cheers.”
She clinked her glass against his lightly. “I’m glad you came. We miss that pretty face.”
Tristan glanced over his shoulder. “Hunter’s plenty pretty.”
A soft smile lit her face. “Yeah, he is. An idiot too, but he makes up for it by being good with pets and passably attractive.” She bared her teeth. “Maybe I should add passably good with pets too.”
“Cujo is very enterprising.”
“You have no idea.”
He took a sip of the wine and made a humming sound. “Okay, what else do we have to do?”
She put down her glass. “Snag the potatoes out of the warmer.” She nodded to the smaller stove then turned to stir the gravy on the stove top. They worked well together, all the side dishes set up for the assembly line to the table. Noah and Hunter were allowed back in as slave labor after Hunter bartered dish duty for his dog’s bad manners.
Dinner was a lively affair and for once he didn’t mind that he didn’t do the cooking. Would he have done things a little differently? Sure. Did it matter in the end? Absolutely not. Kennedy’s first Thanksgiving as a hostess was a success.
After dinner Hunter dragged Kennedy out the back with the dogs to run off some energy and the food they’d consumed while Tristan and Noah tackled the dishes. The monotonous scrubbing centered his brain. It felt weird to be without Jules and Rand. The three of them had separated for the holidays to see their respective families. Well, his version of family anyway.
So why the hell did he already miss them?
Before he’d gotten involved with Juliet and Sparks, holidays didn’t mean much more than work and a bit of extra harassment with traffic. Even now, it shouldn’t be weighing on his mind. They were just good, clean fun—well, maybe not clean.
He swallowed at the memory of Jules kneeling at his feet with her lips puffy and abused from sucking him off. Tristan gripped the sink edge. Yeah, definitely not what he should be thinking about right now.
The back door opened and the stampede started. Tristan was pretty sure Hunter had copped a feel or two based on the color of Kenny’s cheeks when they came back in.
“Are they like this all the time?” he asked Noah.
