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No way was I going to be responsible for unwittingly inviting a paparazzo into the house. And with the star power in the kitchen alone, I had a feeling it wasn’t unlikely some eager photographer would try to crash the party.

“Technically it’s my parents’ house. Come on, I’ll go with you.”

Before I could protest, he grabbed my hand and all but dragged me toward the front door. I was so distracted by the physical contact that I didn’t think to question what was happening. He reached the door and pulled it open.

I couldn’t breathe. My eyeballs practically bounced out of my head.

Standing on the doorstep, silver hair perfectly styled, wearing a bright outfit that looked like she’d stepped out of a Florida catalog, was my grandmother. Beside her stood a tall man with silver hair of his own, distinguished and handsome in a way that reminded me of old Hollywood. Clark Gable, eat your heart out.

“Gram?” The word came out broken. Disbelieving. I felt like I was dreaming.

“Surprise, sweetheart.” Gram opened her arms, and I fell into them.

I was crying before I even realized it. Big, ugly tears that I couldn’t control, my face pressed against her shoulder, my body shaking with the force of emotions I’d been trying so hard to suppress. She smelled like mint and home and everything I’d been missing.

“How are you here?” I managed to ask between sobs. “How is this possible? You were supposed to be in Florida.”

“Your very generous boyfriend found a way to make it happen.” Gram pulled back, cupping my face in her hands, wiping my tears with her thumbs.

“Jeremy isn’t my boyfriend,” I said automatically.

Gram raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s a shame. He went to an awful lot of trouble for someone who’s just a friend.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I was too overwhelmed to process anything beyond the simple fact that she was here.

“This is Harold,” Gram said, gesturing to the man beside her. “Harold, this is my granddaughter, Lucy. The one I’ve told you so much about.”

Harold stepped forward with a warm smile. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Lucy. Your grandmother talks about you constantly. I feel as if I know you already.”

I shook his hand, still dazed. “It’s nice to meet you too. I’m sorry, I’m just… I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Neither can I, if I’m being honest.” Harold chuckled. “One day we’re planning a quiet Florida Thanksgiving, and the next, a private plane is whisking us off to California. Your young man certainly knows how to make things happen.”

“He’s not my—” I started, but Gram cut me off.

“Let’s get inside, shall we? It’s been a long flight, and I could use a glass of wine.”

Jeremy had been standing back, watching the reunion with a satisfied smile. I turned to him, still crying, probably looking like a complete mess.

“You did this?”

“I might have made a few phone calls.”

“Jeremy.” I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t have words for what I was feeling. Gratitude didn’t cover it. Nothing covered it.

He just smiled and gestured toward the door. “Come on. Let’s get everyone inside. Dinner will be ready within the hour.”

I introduced Gram to everyone, doing my best to remember names. There was zero chance I’d remember all the children’s names, but I did my best. Everyone welcomed her like they’d known her forever.

The meal was everything Jeremy had promised and more. The dining room was packed with Blackwells, a sea of dark hair and gorgeous eyes and easy laughter. I counted at least a dozen adults and three babies being passed around like adorable footballs. The amount of food covering the table barely left room for plates. There were actually two turkeys, a ham, and more side dishes than I could name.

Gram sat beside me, her hand occasionally reaching over to squeeze mine like she couldn’t quite believe we were together either. Harold fit in seamlessly with the Blackwell men, discussing golf and football and whatever else men talked about when they were trying to bond. He and Drew apparently shared a passion for boats.

The conversation was easy. Stories were shared. Jokes were made. At one point, Drew said something that made Cleo throw a roll at his head, which started a minor food fight. Tiana shut it down with a single look.

It was loud and chaotic and nothing like the quiet Thanksgivings I was used to with Gram. It was perfect. And I was so glad my pants had a little give because I ate enough to last me a week.

After the meal, while the men were banished to cleanup duty and the babies were put down for naps, I found a quiet moment alone with Gram. We settled into a cozy sitting room with cups of coffee, the sounds of the party drifting in from other parts of the house.