Gloria clucks her tongue and shakes her head. “For goodness’ sake, behave yourself, Delilah Scott.”
He smirks down at me and mouths, “Donovan.”
Gloria continues, unaware of the chaos this man has unleashed with his presence. “I invited him when he showed up this morning to see you. Xavier mentioned he had no plans for the holiday, and I thought it would be nice for him to join us. After all, family should be together on days like today.”
Family. The word echoes in my head. Xavier here, as part of this intimate gathering, suddenly frames him in a new light. Not just as an assassin cloaked in danger, but as someone normal, a man wanting to spend time with his girlfriend. It sounds too trivial compared to the things we’ve been through, but maybe the change is good?
“Thanks for having me,” Xavier says to Gloria. His expression softens when he turns back to look at me. “I thought you’d be happy.”
“I am.”
He quirks a brow. “Yeah, I can tell.” He steps closer, lowering his voice so only I can hear. “You were way happier to see me last night.”
“Shut up.” I glance at Gloria to make sure she didn’t hear us. “A heads-up would’ve been nice.”
“I missed you.”
I smile up at him, forcing myself to push aside my initial shock. It’s not lost on me that he’s made the effort to be here. Did he finish his summons early just to surprise me?
“Xavier, can you please work on the stuffing?” Gloria asks, serving breakfast onto several plates. “I have the recipe and the ingredients laid out on the table.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Gloria shoots me a pointed look. “At least someone woke up with their manners this morning.”
I take a sip of my coffee, internally shaking my head at the metamorphosis Xavier has undergone in a manner of seconds. “What can I help with?”
“You can peel the potatoes.”
The sound of light footsteps and giggling heralds the arrival of Emily and Sandra. The moment they step into the kitchen, their eyes land on Xavier, and their usual bubbly chatter comes to an abrupt halt. It’s as if they’ve walked into a magnetic field, their attention completely captured by the tall, dark figure helping with the Thanksgiving preparations.
“Who’s that?” Emily asks, her tone a mix of curiosity and awe, her gaze tracing the visible part of Xavier’s tattoos that peek out from under his sleeves.
“Is that your motorcycle outside?” Sandra asks.
Gloria frowns. “Girls, what did I tell you about being polite?”
Both of them mumble something about proper introductions instead of inquiries, and I fight back a smile.
“This is Xavier. He’s, uh, my friend.”
“I’m way more than a friend,” Xavier corrects with a smirk, looking at me with a heated expression.
Gloria sighs while the insinuation flies right over the girls’ heads. “Eat your breakfast.”
Sandra and Emily take the offered plates and walk straight to where Xavier sits, measuring ingredients for the stuffing. They plant themselves on either side of him, their gazes wide with curiosity. I sit across from them so I can watch the entire interaction.
“I love your tattoos,” Sandra says. She points to an intricate design around his wrist. “What does it mean?”
Emily pipes up at the same time. “How many do you have?”
Xavier’s smile widens at their enthusiasm and he answers them as they bombard him with questions. The conversation flows steadily with the girls hanging on his every word, barely eating, clearly entranced by him. I can’t blame them.
Xavier has that effect on me too.
I remain quiet, watching the scene unfold with a mixture of amusement stirring within me. It’s one thing for Xavier to be accepted by Gloria; it’s another to see him charm my sisters so effortlessly after the childhood they’ve had.
The atmosphere shifts, a tangible change in the air as Ben walks into the kitchen. His eyes quickly take in the scene: Xavier, surrounded by my sisters, fitting into the family setting as if he’s always been a part of it.
