Page 90 of Small Town Boy

“She won’t hear it from me. I promise. Now take an egg, and greet our guests.”

Nash nods a silent thanks, taking a deviled egg in each hand and spinning around. I follow him toward the group, sliding the tray onto the island with the rest of the appetizers we prepared.

“OMG, are those what I think they are?” Willa asks, stepping inside. She’s not two feet in the door, but her eyes are trained on the counter, mouth agape.

I nod once, which is all the time needed for screams to commence and for all three women to surround me in a group hug.

“I feel like I missed something,” Camden comments.

“I’ll explain later,” Noel answers. “For now, there are some deviled eggs that I need to devour.”

Three hours later, the only thing left of the fried turkey—which was better than I expected—as well as all the sides, snacks, and desserts is slivers and crumbs, our group having demolished the meal. I’m so full I think I could burst. I haven’t eaten a Thanksgiving meal like this since…well, since my parents died. Since then, Thanksgiving has been spent curled up on the couch in my PJs eating Chinese takeout and binge-watching trashy TV.

Looking around the table, it’s clear those days are over though. Which makes my heart join my stomach in wanting to explode. Between this group of friends and the Kellers, I never could have imagined being surrounded by so many people who care. It’s almost enough to forget Marie’s betrayal.

Almost.

There’s still a small part of me that can’t let go of the worry. That can’t move past my own fear of it happening again. I can’t see any of the people at this table doing anything like that, but then again, I thought that about Marie. I considered her a sister, and look where that got me.

This is different…

Inhaling deeply, I remind myself of that for the millionth time. These ladies—and guys—aren’t Marie. Plus, I have something else I didn’t have going for me back in Boston. I have Noel Keller. The strong, silent, small-town boy who turned my world upside down and made me fall ass over teakettle for him. Turns out, he loves me right back. So I guess that all works out.

I push to my feet, stretching, needing something to get me moving so that I don’t fall asleep at the table. Reaching for a plate, I start to gather the dirty dishes, but Nash slaps my hands away.

“You know the rule,” he scolds.

“There is no way you are doing all these dishes by yourself.”

“If it means I don’t have to scrub the bathtub, I sure as hell am!”

The whole group laughs. I shake my head, still coming to terms with the weird contradiction that is Nash Keller. Especially in comparison to his twin.

“We’ll help.” Noel presses a kiss to my temple, his lips strong against my skin, making me crave a lot more than the simple touch. In fact, my body just started the countdown to everyone leaving. “You girls relax; guys will clean up.”

“I like the sound of that!” Kenzie comments. “A girl could get used to this.”

“Let’s keep it interesting while we clean,” Nash declares, lifting the platter with the last bits of turkey and bringing it back into the kitchen. “Truth or dare!”

“And this is why we can’t have nice things,” Willa replies.

I laugh, unable to keep it in. “I’m surprised you guys haven’t run out of things to ask each other.”

“We have,” Sylvie says. “That’s why we’ve asked Noel that same question every time we played for years. Except now we have to think of something new.”

“Sorry, not sorry.”

The girls erupt into a unified cackle, the four of us losing it, while the boys effortlessly move around us. We continue to laugh, making comments and jokes about the guys as they make quick work of the dishes, handing it back just as good as they take it. Collectively we all ignore Nash’s suggestion of the game, which thankfully goes unargued.

“So you excited about Thursday?” Kenzie asks, leaning on the table and looking directly at me.

I swallow hard, my nerves about the event resurfacing. “Yes and no. But there’s no turning back now.”

“It’s going to be great!” Willa reassures me. “You have this thing planned down to the smallest detail. I know branding is your expertise, but I seriously wonder if we also need to make you our event planner too.”

I scoff. “No. Doing this to help rebrand it and make it a signature event as part of a larger marketing plan is one thing. Doing nothing but this is another. And maybe wait and see how it goes. It could be a major failure.”

“It’s not going to be a major failure!” Sylvie says. “Willa said that this is the most sign-ups the event has ever had.”