“Football,” Grant answered, as she knew he would.
“I have to reheat my potatoes and the stuffing,” Reagan said. “So go ahead and turn on the TV while that’s going.”
“If only I knew how to work this damn thing.”
Grant took the remote from Alex and looked it over. “So many buttons. What the hell?”
Davis chuckled. “There’s a power button, a channel up and down.”
“I see them.” Grant got the TV on, switched through channels until he found the Turkey Day Classic.
Davis stood in front of the wall of windows with Luna, taking her hand and kissing it. “This is what I wanted.”
She smiled at him and kissed his cheek. “Good.”
“Do you know what I want for Christmas?”
“I can probably guess.”
He laughed and bumped her shoulder with his. “That too. I want you to move in with me.”
Luna’s jaw popped open. “What?”
“By Christmas. For my gift.”
“I don’t know what to say to that.”
He cradled her face, kissed her softly. “Yeswould do just fine.”
“You muddle my thoughts when you’re so calm and straightforward.” Still, she clung to him. “I want to, but maybe it’s too soon.”
“Nothing can possibly be too soon. We’ve circled around this thing for years.”
Her eyelids slipped closed. “For good reason.”
“No excuses, Luna. If you have a valid reason, let’s hear it.” He tapped her chin, and she opened her eyes.
“I don’t guess I have one, except that it’ll be interesting to be out in the open with this.”
“Stop worrying so much. I’ll take care of whatever it is that you’re stressed over.”
She sighed. “You think it’ll be so easy.”
“Easy as breathing. I love you.”
She blushed. “I love you, too.”
“Then let that be enough.”
