Page 88 of Wild Promise

And now I was even more turned on.

Damn him.

Back in the kitchen, I was pulling the turkey from the oven when Avery sauntered in. Her blonde hair was loosely curled into soft waves that framed her petite face, and her cheeks were still rosy from the cold.

“Wow, Meli.” Her wide eyes scanned the room. “I thought this was a family Christmas dinner. How many people did you invite?”

I set the heavy roasting pan on top of the stove and looked over the line of serving dishes spread across the counters. Practically every inch of space was filled. “I might have gotten a little ambitious.”

“Well, you know I can’t cook to save my life, so just tell me what I can do to help.”

“I know my way around a kitchen, if you need another set of hands,” Nate offered from the doorway. He was sporting a new beard that made him look gruffer than ever, even with the corners of his mouth tipped up in a rare smile.

“What have you got there?” I asked, nodding to the large tray he was carrying.

He lifted the corner of the tinfoil cover and peeked under it. “Gingerbread, shortbread, snickerdoodles, and about a dozen other cookies I can’t name. Still warm.”

“Mrs. Walker?” I asked.

“Who else? She’s right behind me. Zane’s helping her with her coat.”

Of course he was. “You can put the tray over there,” I said, motioning toward the far counter.

Avery hovered as Nate found room for the cookies, stealing a snickerdoodle at her first opportunity.

“Those are incredible,” she said through a mouthful, crumbs dusting her sweater. “Who is this woman?”

“The best neighbor on the planet,” I said. “And if you eat all her snickerdoodles before dinner, Zane will never forgive you.”

“I’ve been ordered to chill the wine, even though I’m not allowed to have any,” Olivia grumbled as she stormed past us to the refrigerator.

“Don’t worry, Liv,” Avery said. “We’ll take you out to celebrate on your birthday, and you can have as many drinks as you can handle. Legally.”

“Thanks,” Olivia sighed. “It just seems silly considering how many drinks I’ve already had illegally.”

“Yes, but Dad doesn’t want to witness it,” I said.

“Oh, it wasn’t Dad who banned me from the alcohol tonight.” Olivia leaned into the open fridge, rooting for a spot to fit the wine, before turning to me with a smirk. “It was your boyfriend, who I now regret ever inviting to family dinner.”

“You’re welcome for that, by the way,” I reminded her.

“Don’t push it.” Her eyes narrowed.

“Then make yourself useful and help me take some of this stuff to the table.”

Olivia rolled her eyes but grabbed two serving dishes without being told which ones.

Say what you want about her attitude, Olivia always had my back. And after years of preparing family dinners together, it didn’t matter that this one was in a new place, with new people. She took my request and ran with it, no instruction needed.

Avery followed behind with the salad and rolls, and Nate carried the cranberry sauce, leaving me alone at the stove for a moment.

I could hear them in the dining room. Olivia bossing Lucy about where to put the napkins. Dad’s slow, labored laugh at something Mrs. Walker had said. Nate’s low voice, steady and calm as always. Avery already stealing another cookie.

And threading through all of it was Zane’s easy warmth. The sound of him talking to my father, the rumble of his laugh, the way his voice carried through the house like it had always been part of my life.

A lump formed in my throat, and I pressed my hands flat against the counter to steady myself.

Just over a month ago, this kitchen had been empty. This house had been just Zane’s—a nice place to live, nothing more. And I’d been across town, drowning in bills and responsibility and grief, convinced that asking for help was the same as admitting defeat.