Thanksgiving Day goes by incredibly fast, with Dad, Grace, and Andrew bustling around the kitchen preparing the feast. I, on the other hand, get kicked out after ruining Dad’s cranberry tart, much to his dismay—not, as I’m terrible at cooking. As a result, I end up spending the day working on my book, which, by the way, is actually going pretty smoothly. Thanks for asking.

For the first time since my mother passed away, I have a proper Thanksgiving dinner with my father, and needless to say, I eat way too much turkey and mashed potatoes.

“What are you thankful for, Oregano?” Dad asks once we’re done with dessert—an impromptu pumpkin pie made by none other than Andrew Keegan.

“I’m thankful for food,” I reply, shoving a spoonful of cranberry sauce into my mouth.

“How about you, Grace? What are you thankful for?” Dad turns his attention to his girlfriend, who is a fantastic cook, by the way.

“I’m thankful for this perfect moment,” she says, gesturing to me, Andrew, Dad, and herself. “Our family is so beautiful,” she adds, smiling lovingly at the man who raised me.

“Our family?” I snort, unable to stop the sarcasm.

“Yes, Emily. Our family,” Dad states, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“What are you thankful for, Fabian?” Andrew cuts in, clearly sensing the start of drama.

“Fabian?” I glance at Andrew. “Since when do you get to call my dad by his first name?”

“Since he helped Grace and me in the kitchen while you locked yourself in your bedroom,” Dad clarifies, winking playfully at Andrew.

“Hey, you kicked me out of the kitchen, remember?” I wave my spoon in the air, sending cranberry sauce flying straight onto Dad’s face.

“I’m thankful for my lovely daughter, my lovely girlfriend, and for making amends with the past,” Dad replies to Andrew’s question while wiping his face with a napkin.

“Andrew? How about you? What are you thankful for?” Grace smiles at my dream man.

“I’m thankful for Emily’s friendship,” he responds, brushing a strand of hair off my face and tucking it behind my ear, the gesture making me blush uncontrollably, much to Grace’s delight and Dad’s amusement.

“Oh, my goodness. Look at the time,” Grace exclaims, pointing at the clock on the wall.

“How is it ten p.m. already?” Dad frowns, standing up from his chair.

“Time flies when you’re having a good time.” Andrew follows suit, his plate in hand.

“I’ll do the dishes,” I announce before Grace can offer, which wouldn’t be surprising, considering how eager she is to play Dad’s perfect partner.

“I’ll help you,” she suggests anyway.

“That’s okay, Grace. I don’t need your help,” I reply dryly.

“I can help Emily,” Andrew intervenes, giving Grace a polite smile.

“Fine, but no funny business,” Dad warns my dream man, who nods and chuckles in response.

Ten minutes later, I’m standing at the sink with Andrew right next to me, his broad shoulder brushing mine as I wash the dirty plates.

“Your father and Grace are really nice,” Andrew comments out of the blue.

“My dad is the best,” I agree, glancing behind me and taking in my hero watching TV with his girlfriend in the open-concept living room.

“I’m guessing you aren’t very fond of Grace,” Andrew smirks.

I shrug and purse my lips, not wanting to agree with him out loud.

“Is it because of your mom? Do you feel like you would be betraying her if you gave Grace a chance?” he presses, placing a hand on the small of my back, his touch making butterflies flutter in my stomach.

“It’s weird because this is the first time Dad has dated someone,” I explain vaguely, shrugging again.

“He looks happy,” Andrew points out.

I let out a deep sigh before finally admitting, “Yeah, he does.”

“Then you should try to be happy for him,” my dream man advises gently. “Shouldn’t you?” He arches an eyebrow, looking so annoyingly adorable.

“Jeez. Remind me not to invite you for Thanksgiving next year,” I joke, rolling my eyes and snorting.

“Speaking of which, thanks for inviting me this year. Otherwise, I would be alone in my apartment, eating pizza and watching movies.”

“Now that sounds like a perfect holiday.” I laugh, shooting Grace and Dad another glance. “Although I don’t get why you wouldn’t want to be with your family.”

Andrew cringes slightly as he puts the clean plates away.“Look, my parents and my sister are nice, and I love them, but they can be a lot.” 

“Define ‘a lot’.” I arch an eyebrow, my curiosity speaking louder than my manners.

“My mom wants me to marry her best friend’s daughter, and she keeps bringing it up, even though I’ve told her a thousand times that I’m not interested in marrying the girl,” he scoffs, his eyebrows furrowed in irritation.

“Why not?” No, I will not admit that I’m jealous of this random girl or the idea of her marrying my dream man.

“She is cool, but I don’t like her that way. Besides, I don’t see marriage as a business transaction, and I don’t have time to think about relationships right now, as my café franchise takes up most of my thoughts and energy.”

“By the way, how did you come up with the idea of opening AK Café?” I’ve been dying to know more about his career ever since I found out he owns my favorite café.

“My parents gave me a considerable sum of money when I graduated high school, and instead of using it to travel with my friends, I left it untouched until I decided to invest it and open the first AK Café. I had this crazy idea during my freshman year at college, and I kept working on it until my sophomore year, when I finally talked to my father, who helped me turn it into reality,” he remarks, his eyes filled with pride and love for his business.

“That’s…” I trail off, stunned by how much he has accomplished at such a young age.

“I believe I was always meant to be a successful entrepreneur, considering my skills—and my good looks,” he smirks, puffing out his chest and winking at me.

“Arrogant bastard,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.

“Arrogant bastard?” He pauses and arches an eyebrow, clearly amused, his lips curled into a smug smile.

“So, I became a writer during college,” I blurt out, desperate to distract the handsome man from my very unladylike comment.

“Yes, I know.”

“How do you know that? Did Hansel tell you?” I ask, finishing the dishes and stepping away from the sink before heading to the fridge to grab a tub of strawberry ice cream.

“I read your bio on your website.” Andrew walks over, holding two spoons.

“When did you visit my website?” To say I’m surprised would be an understatement.

“I don’t know.” He pauses and hands me one of the spoons. “When you released your first book, maybe?”

“How did you even know about my first book?” I head to the living room, where Dad and Grace are absorbed in a movie or something.

“I’ve been keeping tabs on you since you stopped hanging out with my friends and me,” he replies, flopping down on the couch and pulling me with him, making me land dangerously close to his lap.

“But I stopped hanging out with you when I started dating Dylan.” I shift, managing to sit beside him while avoiding his intense gaze. Will I ever get used to being this close to him?

He nods, smiling broadly. “Exactly.” He takes the ice cream from my hands and brings a spoonful to his mouth.

“What? You’ve been keeping tabs on me since we were sixteen? But you were dating Charlie back then,” I gasp, completely thrown off.

“I’ve always cared about you,” he admits. “Charlie told me you were dating that jerk, and I was worried because you stopped hanging out with us after that. I barely saw you at school, and you stopped talking to me altogether, even when we ran into each other in the hallways,” he pouts, “you blocked me on social media and left our group chat.”

“Why did you care?” I grab his wrist and guide his spoonful of ice cream to my mouth, licking my lips afterward.

Andrew’s eyes fix on my mouth as he swallows, clearly thrown off by my bold move.

“You think I can’t see you, but I can,” Dad warns from the other couch. “No funny business under my roof, kids.”

“They’re not kids anymore, Fabian.” Grace chuckles, petting Milo, who is sleeping peacefully in her arms.

“My daughter will always be a kid to me,” he grumbles, shooting Andrew a pointed look.

“I think I’m going to bed,” I announce, my face burning—I need to get out of here before Dad kicks Andrew out or locks me in my room until morning.

“Yeah, it’s late,” Andrew agrees, getting to his feet and heading to the kitchen to put the ice cream back in the fridge.

“Good night, Emily. Good night, Andrew.” Grace gives us a warm smile.

I ignore her and start stomping to my room without saying anything to Dad, who doesn’t even seem bothered by my behavior.

“Good night, Grace. Good night, Fabian.” I hear Andrew say politely.

“Good night, Grace. Good night, Fabian,” I repeat under my breath in a mocking tone, sticking my tongue out like a child. I guess I really am still a kid.

“Are you making fun of me?” This time, Andrew’s voice comes from right behind me.

I spin around, only to find him inches away. He leans in slightly, his warmth and familiar scent stealing the air from my lungs.

“Wha-What are you doing?” I stutter, trying to steady my uneven breathing.

“I don’t know, Emily. What am I doing?” he teases, brushing his lips against mine.

“Andrew,” I whisper, my eyes searching his.

“What?” His warm breath brushes against my skin, sending tingles down my spine.

Suddenly, I throw my arms around his neck and press my lips to his in a heated kiss, which he returns without hesitation. The next thing I know, Andrew Keegan is pulling me closer, deepening the kiss as if he can’t get enough of me.

My mind goes blank, and my body feels like it’s on fire. My fingers tangle in his hair, my heart pounds wildly in my chest, and the butterflies in my stomach spiral out of control. 

I want more. I want so much more.

Breaking the kiss, I breathe out, “Let’s go to my bed.”

Andrew kisses me again, but just as I start to lead him into my bedroom, he pulls away and takes a step back, his arms dropping from around me. “I can’t,” he replies, his stormy gaze filled with apology.

“You don’t want me.” I wince, shame and regret crashing over me.

He shakes his head and reaches for my hands. “I can’t because I would never disrespect your father, Emi. Whether we like it or not, we’re under his roof, and he made it pretty clear he doesn’t want anything like that happening here.”

“But we already kissed and—”

“I couldn’t resist you, you wicked woman,” he cuts in, running a hand through his hair, exasperated. Then he adds more quietly, “But I can’t take things further with your dad and Grace right there.” He gestures toward the living room.

“But—”

“Besides, I don’t want to disrespect you either. It took me years to find my way back to you and months to work up the courage to approach you again, and I don’t want to mess up what could become something really good between us,” Andrew adds, his gaze glued to mine.

“Andrew, I—”

“Good night, Emi. I’ll see you in the morning.” He presses a quick kiss to my lips before walking out and closing the door behind him before I can react, leaving me alone in the darkness of my room.

I stare at the door for a long moment, my brain struggling to catch up with what just happened—I kissed Andrew Keegan, and he basically admitted he has feelings for me.

“Oh my gosh,” I murmur, climbing onto the bed and lying on my stomach, burying my face in my pillow as I let out a muffled scream of excitement.

This has to be one of the best Thanksgiving Days of my life.

* * *