“Thanks, Grace. There are paper plates and utensils and things in the bag.”
As Connor moved to sit in the vacated chair next to Luna, she gave him a shy but sardonic smile. “What, no side dishes?”
He chuckled. “Time got away from me.”
She put a hand on his arm, and her voice lowered to a sincere pitch. “Seriously, though, Connor. This was so nice of you, thinking of us on Thanksgiving.”
You’re all I think about all the time!
He stopped himself before blurting the sentence out. He was glad. That probably would’ve made the meal slightly awkward. But as for the sentiment, it was true.
“Did I hear someone say something about side dishes?”
Connor glanced toward the door of the room, which was where Genevieve’s voice had come from. She was there, along with Gavin. In fact, the other Valentine brothers were there, too, standing behind Gen and Gavin, along with their significant others.
Damn! It was quite a crowd: Gavin and Gen, Donovan and Ella, Jet and Abby, and Troy with Allison. And all of them were carrying fragrant dishes.
Connor shook his head ruefully. He shouldn’t have been surprised, he knew. In fact, when he’d mentioned his plan to Gavin this morning, he probably should’ve predicted that the community would turn out to come wish Grace and Serge (not to mention Luna) a happy Thanksgiving. But he still couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He’d been hoping for a smaller-scale, quieter gathering.
Hell, who was he kidding? What he’d hoped to get out of the visit was more conversation time with Luna.
As the group filed in and set their covered dishes down on the counter next to Connor's turkey, they each greeted Grace, Serge, and Luna by turn.
As Ella, the last in line, finished giving Grace a hug, she said, "Don't worry, we know we’re an overwhelmingly big crowd. We just came to drop off the food and we’re headed home."
Donovan slid an arm around her shoulders and nodded in agreement. "Right. And mostly, we just wanted to check on you all and wish you a happy Thanksgiving."
As they turned to go, Connor saw Ella give him a surreptitious wink. Normally, he wouldn’t have cared for the teasing. He wasn’t the kind of person who liked being at the center of attention. But at the moment, he couldn’t have cared less. All he cared about was more time with Luna.
“I guess it was nice of everyone to bring food, but it’s a special kind of torture to only be able to smell the stuff and not eat it,” grumbled Serge.
“Well, you’re going to have to be tortured, then. Meals like these are what put you in this situation, love,” Grace shot back. “But, I get it. I tell you what I’m going to do. I’ll get the nurses to come take all of this to the staff lounge. They deserve a special treat for working on the holiday, too. Then the kids and I can take turns going and eating our plates out in the waiting room.”
“Oh, Grandma, what a sweet idea!” Luna said.
God, Connor had forgotten about how she used to call him and Luna “the kids” or “you kids.” It had always made him feel so included in their little loving family, and it felt so damn good to hear those words again.
After Grace had bustled out, Serge said, “Luna-bell, you’re looking a little tired, my dear. Why don’t you go home and get some rest?”
Luna’s eyes widened. “I’m fine, I swear! And of course I want to be here with you!”
Serge gave a small smile. “Don’t be silly. Your grandma is taking good care of me.” His voice slowed and became more significant. “Now, come on, my girl. What say you let this nice young man walk you home?”
Luna blushed and Connor could see that she recognized Serge’s blatant attempt at matchmaking just as clearly as he did. Not that the old guy was being subtle about it. His intentions were as clear as a sunny summer day. But, still.
Luna looked up at him and was silent for a moment, then turned back to her grandfather with a small, indulgent smile. “Fine. Okay. As soon as Grandma Grace gets back, I’ll let Connor walk me home.”
“Make up a couple of plates for yourself,” Serge advised. “I don’t want you going hungry on Thanksgiving. Not on my account."
Chapter 11
Luna
The air was cold and damp as Luna walked down Main Street with Connor. It was a little over a mile and a half from the hospital to her grandparents’ house, and she hadn’t dressed for a long walk in the cold when she’d left the house to drive to the hospital this morning.
Of course, she could’ve told Connor that she had her car and didn’t need him to follow her grandfather’s suggestion of walking her home. Hell, she was sure that he also had his car in the hospital parking lot and could’ve driven her home.
They may have been in a small town, but they weren’t in a small town in the 1800s, for God’s sake.
She didn’t know why, though, but when they’d stepped out of the hospital through the automatic double doors in the lobby, they’d just started off toward her house on foot, like a couple of suggestible zombies.
She glanced surreptitiously up at his face. Gah! His handsome freaking face. That jawline. That stubble. Those eyes. Good lord, who could be expected to think straight when accompanied by a guy with that face?
She snapped her eyes front, feeling her cheeks burn. She knew they must be tomato red. Her blush was the bane of her existence. It telegraphed her feelings out to the world at large—even those feelings she’d prefer to keep to herself.
Hell, she figured, maybe a little conversation would help keep her mind from wandering to sexy places they shouldn’t go right now.
“Thanks for walking me home,” she ventured.
“So, you really think you’ll be here through Christmas, huh?” he replied.
Wow. He really did like to dive in and get straight to the point. She had to grin a little at that. He never had been one for small talk.
“That’s the plan,” she said.
He nodded, and they walked a few more steps in silence. Finally, he said, “If a plan's the best I can hope for, I guess I'll take it."
Luna's eyes shot to his face and she was relieved to see that he didn’t look angry, or sad. Instead, there was a playful grin playing on his lips.
God, she’d missed that grin so much. It had never failed to send a flutter through her belly, and this moment was no exception.
In fact, she felt more than just the fluttery belly—there was also heat spreading all over her skin, and dizziness invading her brain.
This was a familiar and specific group of symptoms that she’d always referred to as The Connor Trifecta.
So, yeah. She was clearly still every bit as susceptible to them as she’d ever been.
Good to know. Yep. Good. To. Freaking. Know.
The only comfort she had was that she had plenty of reasons to assume that he was still just as affected by her as she was by him. The way the corner of his mouth twitched when she said something unexpected. The way he made a point of moving his body protectively in between her and any car that passed them on the street.
Hell, just the fact that he’d shown up at the hospital today, a fully cooked turkey slung over his shoulder.