“Brush your teeth, mister. Go.” She nudged him out of the kitchen.
Ollie passed me on his way. He pointed to his own eyes with two fingers, then jabbed his pointer finger in my direction. The universal symbol forI’m watching you, so don’t get any ideas.
Fuck, I kinda loved this kid already.
I almost laughed, but I didn’t want to belittle his protectiveness. Far from it. I respected that Ollie wanted to take care of his mom. So instead, I put a hand over my heart and nodded solemnly.
He and Piper had nothing to fear from me.
“Have you had dinner?” Piper asked from behind me. I turned and saw her leaning against the kitchen counter.
I scratched my beard. “I had a hot dog, but I left it in the truck.”
“A hot dog for Thanksgiving dinner?” She turned around and grabbed the container of leftovers. “Come on. You must be hungry.”
“How do you know what I am?”
I was starving actually, but my orneriness was rising to the surface. I’d never been that great at dealing with authority. Funny when you considered the years I spent in the Army, but not so funny when you thought about how all that ended up.
“Because you were willing to eat a gas station hot dog at eleven at night. I’m sure they’re good some of the time, but this late on Thanksgiving, it was probably slim pickings.”
“Yeah, you’ve got me there. But I’ve got my bag of chips. Those won’t go bad until after the zombie apocalypse.”
Smirking, she opened the lid on the container, revealing a whole spread of seasonal favorites. “Quit arguing and eat. Grace won’t be happy if I keep her brother from having a decent holiday meal.”
“Well, if it’s what Grace wants, I guess I can get onboard.”
Piper offered to warm up the food, but that was more fuss than I wanted to put up with. So she handed me a fork. “At least sit at the table.”
“Eating at the counter isn’t civilized enough for you?”
“I’m a counter-eating girl. Believe me. But…” She tucked a few golden strands behind her ear. “You should sit at a proper table for a holiday meal. It’s important.”
I waited while she set out a green placemat and then added a paper napkin with fall leaves printed on it. “Thank you,” I murmured, and Piper nodded, taking the seat across from me.
This was nice. Also kind of embarrassing. I didn’t want anyone’s pity, and the thought of Piper seeing me that way made me bristle.
Some people might not think it, but I had plenty of pride left.
Then she asked, “Can I have a mushroom? I added them to the green beans this year. Put wine in the skillet and everything.”
“Go for it.” I held out the container. She plucked a mushroom with her fingers and popped it in her mouth.
There was something so familiar and casual about the move that it diffused any tension I’d been feeling. Made me feel less like some drifter she’d taken pity on.
Also, the way she moaned as she chewed had me sitting up straighter, all my attention on those pretty pink lips.
“Mmm,” she hummed. “Try it. Try everything. It’s all good.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
“I definitely had to tell you more than twice.”
Smirking, I practically inhaled the first bites. There was turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing and the green bean-mushroom casserole.
“Like it?” Piper asked, watching me with her light-green eyes.
“Might be the best meal of my life. Except the hamburger and greasy fries I had that first day after leaving Leavenworth. That tasted pretty damn amazing. I put on quite a show at the fast food place with the way I licked the salt off my fingers. It was getting R-rated.” I forked up another bite of stuffing.
