Page 32

November

N ever in my life did I ever think I’d spend a precious day off hosting a “Friendsgiving.” But I’ve got to admit, Scarlett’s idea to have everyone over at our place today has really grown on me.

Our place—god, I love the sound of that.

I’ve just wrapped a towel around my waist after my shower when a frantic Scarlett comes barreling into our bathroom. Clad in only a silk robe loosely secured around her waist with a towel twisted around her hair, she’s bordering on hysteria as she storms into our closet.

“Why in the hell did we think this would be a good idea?” she asks, her voice laced in panic as I follow her and head to my designated side of the closet.

We? I’m smart enough not to voice my question aloud, but unfortunately I don’t do a good enough job of stifling my chuckle.

Scarlett whirls on me, eyes wide before she quickly narrows them. “Did I say something funny, dear ?”

“Yes, darling . This entire hysterical episode you’re having is quite hilarious to me.”

“ What did you just say?” she asks in an icy tone that immediately raises my hackles.

Oh, fuck.

I’m in trouble .

“Come on, baby girl. You’ve got to admit that you’re kinda freaking out right now.” It’s adorable and scary at the same time.

“Don’t you ‘baby girl’ me right now, Bennett Benjamin Wilson.”

“My middle name is not Benjamin.”

“Do I look like I give a fuck what your real middle name is right now?”

“No, but it’s probably something we should know about each other before we get married. It’s James. What’s your middle name?”

“God, even your freaking middle name is sexy. Bennett James . . . that’s stupid hot. Mine is Elizabeth.”

My cocky smirk at her comment doesn’t hit the mark with my future bride, in fact, I think it enrages her more, if that’s possible. “So our wedding invites will say Scarlett Elizabeth and Bennett James. It’s cute, I like it.”

“Ugh. That's beside the point, stop trying to distract me,” she growls at me. “I’m freaking out because of you. Because for some reason I’ve started giving a shit about you, and that means I want your friends to like me. It means I want to impress them and make them feel welcome in our home.”

I’m storing that whole liking me comment away for later. Meanwhile I’m smiling like an idiot.

“Our home. I was just thinking to myself in the shower that I love the sound of that.” I eliminate the distance between us.

“Tell me, Scar, if I got down on my knees right now to show you how appreciative I am for the hard work you’ve put into today, would that help settle your nerves?

Would that earn your forgiveness for my big mouth getting the best of me? ”

“Y-yes.”

I press her back against the floor-to-ceiling shelves as I drop down to my knees, still wrapped in only my towel .

“Eyes on the mirror, baby girl. I want you to watch how good your future husband can make you feel.”

I’ve barely tasted paradise when a shrilling sound rings throughout the house.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! That’s the smoke alarm!” Scarlett says as she adjusts her robe and then rushes out of the closet.

I throw on the first pair of sweatpants I can find and run down the stairs as fast as I can.

When I enter the kitchen, Gemma is standing beneath the fire alarm with a dish rag laughing hysterically and Scarlett is spraying something down in the sink that’s billowing with smoke.

“This is too good—I just started home ec class and even I know you shouldn’t step away from the oven if you set the timer on it. You should’ve at least set the timer on your phone, Scar.”

“Yeah, Gems, I realize that now.”

“Why were you making cookies anyways? It’s Thanksgiving, shouldn’t you be baking pies?”

“I wanted the house to smell like fresh baked cookies,” Scar admits in defeat as she throws her hands in the air.

“Well, now it’ll smell like burnt cookies and burnt parchment paper,” Gemma tells her as she chuckles at her sister’s expense.

“What can I do to help, love?” The moment the words leave my mouth, Scarlett freezes from my slip of tongue. I’m not even mad about calling her that, but when she turns to face me, she not only looks frazzled but also unsure of herself.

Scar closes her eyes and takes a deep, steadying breath. “Would you please open the patio door to air out the kitchen and living room? And Gemma, would you and Gunner please set up the kids’ dining table with the coloring place mats Gunner picked out?”

I nod my head as Gemma says, “We’re on it, sis! ”

I’m thankful Gemma seems to be in a good mood today, she and Scar have been butting heads lately, which has been weighing heavily on Scarlett.

The other day when the three of us went to pick out Gemma’s guitar, she was short and snippy with Scar.

Gems and I had a good chat later that evening when we were tuning her new guitar.

When I asked her what was going on, she admitted that change is hard for her and she has been going through a lot of it lately, and not that they are necessarily bad changes, but any change overwhelms her.

She agreed to try to take it easier on Scar and chat about it with her therapist at her next appointment.

Whether it’s my place or not, I’m crazy proud of her.

Once I’ve opened the patio door and noticed Gemma and Gunner have gone upstairs to grab the coloring place mats, I move to stand behind Scarlett, resting my chin on her shoulder and wrapping my arms around her waist.

Her shoulders relax from my touch, giving me a sense of pride knowing I can do that for her. “What’s this thing in your hair? I thought it was a towel at first, but now I realize you slept in it.”

She shakes with laughter at my question.

“It’s a silk bonnet that I sleep in to hold my heatless curls.

I should probably be mortified that you’re seeing me in this state, but I’m honestly too overstimulated to care right now.

Sorry, the honeymoon phase of our marriage is over before it’s even begun. ”

“I don’t know, Red, I think I prefer you being comfortable and real around me to living in a fake honeymoon phase,” I admit.

“Hmm, someone’s earning brownie points.”

“And what do I get if I earn enough of those?” I murmur the question against her skin before trailing my lips down the column of her neck.

“Whatever you want,” she says breathlessly as I move the satin fabric of her robe off her shoulder, desperate to kiss every freckle glittering her skin .

Laughter rumbles in my chest. “Is that so? I’d be careful if I were you. Giving me free rein to do whatever I want to you might be a roll of the dice you’re not ready for,” I warn.

“Didn’t you ask me to take a gamble on you when you proposed?” she questions as she spins in my hold, wrapping her arms around my neck.

“I did.”

“Well, I’d like to see what happens when I give you full control. Something tells me there’s more to that rail you had hidden in your headboard . . . and I’d like to find out,” she admits.

Fuck me. She’s exactly right; there is more, though, I’m not sure what she’d think of the more I’d have in store for her. But before I can respond, Gunner comes barreling back into the kitchen.

“Benny! Look at my turkey wobble!” he squeals as he does a weird strut across the floor that has the three of us cracking up before we’re all joining him in our own versions of a “gobble wobble” as Gemma put it.

“This was not on my bingo card this year, but I’m not mad about it,” I hear Jax say from over my shoulder before he barks out a laugh. “I knocked, but let myself in when you didn’t answer.” He holds up a pack of butter in one hand and a bag of marshmallows in the other. “I come bearing gifts.”

“You mean the groceries I asked you to grab on your way over,” I correct him.

“Sure, that,” Jax says as he tosses the items onto the kitchen island before turning to Gunner. “What dance are we doing, little man?”

“Gemma calls it the gobble wobble, Uncle J.”

Scarlett suddenly freezes, eyes wide from what Gunner just called Jax, and I imagine her shocked expression is mirrored on my face .

Jackson doesn’t bat an eye at his new title, in fact, he’s beaming with joy as he joins Gunner in the dance he’s made up.

“I’m going to go get ready,” Scar calls over her shoulder as she strides down the hall.

“Take your time, I’m on turkey basting duty,” I assure her.

“Try not to burn the house down again,” Gemma teases as she passes by us to go upstairs.

“Thought it smelled a little funny in here,” Jax starts, but I jab him in the ribs before he can say anything else.

“Is Alexa with you?” I ask him.

“She had to finish some interview prep so she’s driving over later,” he explains.

I give him a nod before grabbing the oven mitts and pulling the turkey from one of the double ovens to baste it again. I’m pleased to say we haven’t burnt it and it looks like it just might turn out perfectly. Not too shabby for two turkey first-timers.

“I’m so tempted to post a thirst trap video of you basting that turkey with your shirt off right now. Or maybe I should wait and post a video of it when you inevitably lose the fantasy league again.”

“You’re freaking hilarious, J,” I deadpan.

“I know. So, what can I help with?” he asks and I’m thankful he does because I’m not ashamed to admit he’s a far better cook than I am.

After I put Jax to work on prepping the sweet potatoes, I lift Gunner in the air. “Let’s get you changed out of your PJs, Champ.”

“Look at me, Uncle J! I’m an airplane!” he squeals in delight, and goddamnit, the combination of his laughter and hearing him call my brother his uncle has me feeling all the feels.

Never change, Champ .

Making exaggerated airplane noises with my mouth, I swerve side to side as we fly up the stairs and Gunner lands a spot in my heart as one of my favorite people to ever exist.

It’s not long before our house is filled with our friends and too many kids to count.