“Um, well, if you don’t have anything major planned with Deacon, you’re more than welcome to spend Thanksgiving with us. I usually cook a big turkey for the whole family—which includes me, Simon, Nora, and her parents. But this year it’s just Nora and us because my aunt and uncle are visiting friends in Michigan.”
“Hold on. Is this an official invite to eat your cooking and watch the dog show?”
She nodded. “Deacon can come too, if he wants.”
“Yeah.” Simon smiled wide. “You should totally come, Fla—Mitch. And Coach Deacon too. I promise I won’t try to kiss up or anything. But we could eat lots of turkey and pumpkin pie, then watch the game. Mom never wants to watch football with me.”
Mitch’s excitement over the coming holiday spilled over. “Well, I’m in. But only if you promise to make a pie as good as your sticky buns.”
Becca snorted. “Ha. That’s child’s play. My pumpkin pie will make you think you’ve died and gone to heaven.”
He stared at her, thinking he’d found his spot already with one of paradise’s mouthier angels. At the thought, he chuckled. Did that make him a demon then, for wanting to corrupt her feathery goodness?
“What?” She eyed him with caution.
“Not a thing. I’ll be there Thursday. Pretty sure Deacon will too, but I’ll ask him to be sure and let you know. What can I bring?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.” “A football,” Simon said at the same time.
Mitch hadn’t played a game of fun football, no practice pads or for pay, in way too long. “That I can do.” He wanted badly to kiss Becca goodbye.
Instead, he shut the door and waved, then headed inside while dialing his brother. “Deacon? What are you doing for Thanksgiving this year?”
