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“I’ll leave that to you.”

Dena paused in the courtyard by the carriage house. She was full and a little sleepy. The day had been a good one—she enjoyed her family’s company, and having Toby, Harrison and Judy join them had made for an interesting meal.

It was barely seven but felt later, and the night air was freezing. Still she hesitated, not sure if she should knock on Micah’s door or not. The decision was taken out of her hands when the door in question swung open and Micah stepped out into the night.

“You lost?” he asked lightly.

She laughed and waved the bag in her hand. “I brought you leftovers. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but then I started second-guessing myself.”

“Don’t ever do that.” He stepped back in obvious invitation.

She went inside. He took the bag and studied the contents.

“There’s a lot of food here,” he said.

“Turkey, both stuffing and dressing. My family has both for reasons we don’t need to get into. Green beans and three slices of pie.”

He looked at her. “I really did have dinner with Steve and his family.”

“I believe you.”

“Then why the food?”

“I’m a nurturer. I can’t help myself.”

He motioned to the sofa. “Have a seat.”

She hung her coat, then settled in a corner of the couch. Part of her hoped he would sit right next to her, draping his arm across her shoulders before whispering that he couldn’t stop thinking about her and then pressing his mouth to—

“Can I get you anything?” he asked.

“Huh? Oh, no. I’m good. So, did you have fun today?”

“I did. I like Marti, Steve’s wife. A couple of the guys who work for him joined us. Dinner was at two, which is a strange time, but traditional.”

“We ate at three.”

His expression turned concerned. “How did you do?”

“You mean did I throw up at the table?”

He grinned. “I wouldn’t have put it that way, but yes.”

“I was fine. I got queasy a couple of times, but there was no actual regurgitation.”

“Progress.”

“I wish, but I think it’s too early for my hormones to be calming down. Soon, though.”

She looked at him, telling herself not to get lost in his blue eyes. He was a guest and possibly a friend—nothing more. Besides, he was still getting over the loss of his wife and their baby. He was looking to recover, not get involved with a very ordinary, pregnant woman.

“Was the day difficult?” she asked.

“Parts of it. Adriana wasn’t one for traditions, so we usually traveled on the holidays.”

“I’ve heard people do that. I can’t imagine not being in Wishing Tree for Thanksgiving and Christmas. It’s what I’ve done my whole life.” She paused, thinking she could not sound more boring. “Except for when I went to college, I haven’t lived anywhere else.”

“You’re a small-town girl.”