The awkwardness that descends on the room has my skin tightening with anxiety. Ben’s smile is strained as he jerks his chin in Xavier’s direction. “X.”
“McKenzie.” Xavier responds with a nod, his voice neutral but polite.
The tension thickens, the air heavy with unresolved emotion. Ben’s gaze darts to me and narrows with suspicion. I shrug.
It’s not like I planned for two assassins to be at the Thanksgiving table.
I take a deep breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions inside me. My gaze zips back and forth between the two men as if they’re going to kill each other at any second.
What a clusterfuck.
As the day progresses, the kitchen becomes a hive of activity, everyone contributing to the Thanksgiving meal. Initially, Ben keeps to himself, focusing intently on the tasks Gloria assigns him. However, as morning becomes the afternoon, his cool demeanor slowly begins to melt away.
Ben laughs. “Do you remember that time that Felton put a snake in Ames’s briefcase?”
“Ames didn’t give a sh—” Xavier coughs at Gloria’s look of warning. “He wasn’t scared at all. He just picked up the poisonous snake like it was nothing and tossed it to the floor. That’s when I knew he was crazy.”
Their camaraderie, formed years ago during their time as recruits, warms my heart. If I could wish for something, it’d be for them to always be like this. Not only brothers-in-arms, but friends.
By the time the turkey is ready and we’re all called to the table, the atmosphere is remarkably lighter. The dining room is warm with soft lighting and the rich smells of our Thanksgiving feast. Gloria places the golden-browned turkey at the center of the table with a proud smile, declaring it’s time to carve the bird.
“Who would like the honors?” Gloria asks, looking between Ben and Xavier.
Ben waves a hand. “X is good with knives. The best I’ve ever seen.”
My eyes widen at his slip up, but Xavier merely grins. “It’s true,” he says. “Although McKenzie is a genius with computers.”
The girls, however, have a different reaction.
“That’s so cool!” Sandra exclaims.
“Are you a ninja?” Emily asks Xavier.
Sandra rolls her eyes. “Of course not. Obviously, he’s a secret agent.”
Emily’s mouth falls open. “What kind of weapons do you have?”
“Girls,” Gloria says with a firm tone. “That’s enough.”
Ben leans onto the table and drops his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “X has a lot of weapons.”
He laughs when I glare at him. “Erm, I’m not sure that’s a good thing,” I mutter.
“I want to see!” Sandra whisper-shouts. Emily nods emphatically, making her ponytail wiggle.
Xavier reaches over to grip my thigh under the table, caressing it with his thumb. “Maybe next time,” he says, winking at them.
That’s when both of my sisters, and possibly Gloria, fall in love with him.
I’m not far behind them.
Xavier releases me to take hold of the carving tools. With a confident smile, he rises to his feet, and the room instantly quiets. I inwardly roll my eyes, expecting a simple slice and serve. What ends up happening is something that rivals—and surpasses—those people who cook hibachi-style in restaurants.
With a steady, precise grip, Xavier positions the knife just so, his movements smooth and assured. The blade glides through the turkey with ease, each slice clean and perfect, showcasing his talent. The way he handles the tools is second nature to him, each motion deliberate and efficient.
I know firsthand how good he is with blades. It’s a work of art.
His tattoos undulate on his skin as he works, drawing my attention from his skilled fingers to the decorative ink. Only Xavier Donovan could carve a turkey and make it look fucking sexy.
