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A side table houses three types of pies—pumpkin, apple, and cherry—as well as cheddar cheese and whipped cream.
For our first Thanksgiving together, Archer and I are pulling out all the stops to impress Dad and his girlfriend. I just hope we succeed.
Archer pulls me in and kisses my cheek. “It looks incredible. When are they getting here?”
“Any minute,” I say with a glance at my watch.
“Are you nervous?”
“A little.”
“We’ve been around them both before.”
“I know, but this is the first time for a family event. Thanksgiving has always just been Dad and me—or Dad and me and some random neighbor or family friend. This is the first holiday dinner where we actually have boyfriends and girlfriends, and it just feels...”
“Significant?” Archer finishes, and I nod. “I have no doubt it’ll turn out great. You’re a natural hostess. Playing “House” with you sure beats playing it with my sister who used to pretend I was her baby...or horse.”
I laugh. I’ll be meeting her and his parents for the first time this Christmas, as Archer’s mom wants to surprise May Carver with a big family visit this year. While I’m anxious to be around them, I know if they’re anything like Archer, I have nothing to worry about.
I wrap my arms around his middle, and he leans down, kissing me soundly before I pull back. “You best watch yourself. Dad’s on his way.”
“Which is exactly why I need to get this in now.”
He leans down, and I wrap my arms around his neck.
We kiss until the gas stovetop sizzles, and I pull away to find the corn boiling over. I move, but he stops me, claiming my lips with his as he keeps his eye open and strains to reach the pot himself. I can’t help but smile.
“No! No smiling,” he murmurs against my lips. “No laughing or talking, either. Only kissing.”
“But we have cooking to do,” I say, our lips still pressed together.
“Nope. No more cooking,” he replies in between kisses after finally succeeding in turning off the corn. “Nothing but kissing for the rest of our lives.”
I laugh, then accept his kisses once more.
Not five seconds later, a car door closes, and Archer pulls away, his shoulders sloped low with disappointment.
A fire lights inside me. “Okay, come on.”
I pull him down the hallway away from the windows, then kiss him like there’s no tomorrow. We both feel the ending of it coming faster than we want, so our lips move frantically, and we breathe each other in until the doorbell rings.
Archer pulls back, blinking hard before giving his head a little shake. “I’ll cook for you for the rest of my life if you kiss me like that before each meal.”
I laugh, then walk down the hallway.
Archer delivers a throaty sigh, and I glance back at him. He pulls up his eyes.
“What was that sigh for?” I ask.
He smiles mischievously. “I just love those jeans.”
I’m wearing my embroidered flowers one again—an intentional choice on my part. I flip my hair over my shoulder. “I know.”
He gives me a look that tells me we really need to answer the door now, so I walk away with a little laugh.
We answer the door together.
“Hey, Jules,” Dad greets.