But I chew my bottom lip. “Are you sure?”
Because yes, okay, I dipped out of laying the table like a punk, but I’m growing a whole freaking human inside me, you know? Give me a break. And I spent the last three days working on a gardening project for the Maple Creek elementary school, prepping the grounds for next spring. I put those kids to work for most of the digging, but I’m tired.
“Go.” Everett presses a kiss against my forehead, his mouth curving into a smile. “Go bear the brunt of Harry’s stories. Honestly, you’re drawing the short straw.”
That’s definitely not true, but I’ll take it.
“Okay. Love you.”
The night air is cool and crisp as I lead our two guests along the dirt track to the fire pit, the stars winking to life overhead. Archie’s a quick gray ghost panting at our heels. Everett has left wood already stacked, and Harry helps me to kneel before passing me the matches.
“So.” I steal a glance at the professor as he settles on the log across the pit. “When did you two get together? During or after that Spanish literature class?”
A flush creeps up the professor’s throat, and Harry laughs up at the sky, loud and bright.
And yeah—Everett’s got this all wrong. I definitely want to hear this story.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Harry tells his lover, elbowing the man’s thigh. “Josie can’t judge. Did you know we dated for four years before she fucked my uncle?”
The professor splutters, and Archie barks, and I shake my head, grinning at the matches in my hand. Typical Harry.
This isn’t the family Thanksgiving I ever imagined for myself.
But it’s so, so much better.
* * *