“Knock knock.”
“Who’s there?” al three asked at once
“Pass the mash potatoes.”
“Pass the mash potatoes who?”
Conner shrugged. “Pass the mash potatoes to me. I’m starving.”
Sam shook his head as he spooned potatoes onto Conner’s plate. “You’re going to seriously have to work on your jokes.” He spooned some for himself, then handed the bowl to Autumn. The tips of her fingers touched his before she pul ed back. Usual y on holidays, Autumn dressed for comfort, but today wasn’t a usual holiday, and she’d dressed in a fitted white blouse and a black pencil skirt that hugged her body and made her look like a fifties pinup model. She’d had mixed feeling about dressing up because Sam was coming to dinner. On the one hand, she didn’t want him to think she’d squeezed into her skirt because of him. On the other hand, she didn’t want him to see her in old sweats. Once she opened the door and seen Sam, she was glad she’d made the effort. He looked coo
l and hot at the same time in black wool pants and gray Vneck sweater with a white T-shirt beneath. Not like the last time when she’d seen him, al sweaty and scruffy radiating body heat.
“Aren’t you Canadian?” Vince forked sliced turkey on his plate.
“Yeah.”
“So why are you here?”
Autumn kicked him under the table. “Be nice, Vin,” she warned.
Vince turned and looked at her. His eyes wide and innocent. “I’m just asking. I’m sure Sam doesn’t mind answering a simple question.”
“Not at al .” He looked across the table and give Vince a big kiss-my-ass grin. “Autumn and Conner were gracious enough to invite me.”
Which wasn’t real y true. She hadn’t even planned to make Thanksgiving dinner. Conner was supposed to be at Sam’s and Vince at work.
“I thought you were going to spend a quiet day alone packing,” Vince reminded her as he took the potatoes from her. Which she had, until a few days ago, when she suddenly learned that Conner was bringing Sam to Thanksgiving at her house and she was cooking. She stil wasn’t quite sure how that had al transpired. Natural y, she’d had to invite Vince, who fortunately, or unfortunately—depending on how she chose to look at it—had an hour free for dinner. Just enough time to drive to her house, eat, stir things up, and go back to work. She supposed she should just be thankful that Vince would be there less than an hour. Not nearly long enough for Sam to get al comatose on L-tryptophan so that Vince could go commando on him.
“Where are you and Conner going tomorrow?” Sam asked, and forked turkey on and his and Conner’s plates.
“I’ve rented a beach house in Moclips.” Autumn added a little cranberry to her plate. “It’s about a two-hour drive from Seattle.”
“Never heard of it.”
“That’s probably because you spend your vacations in the upper rooms at Scores,” Vince said. Sam raised a brow. “What do you know about those upper rooms at Scores?”
“Just what I’ve read.”
“Giving your fifth-grade education a workout with big words like lap and dance?”
“Yeah. And with letters like f and u. ”
“Little ears.” Autumn lifted her finger off her fork and pointed to Conner. “We rented the same house last summer and real y enjoyed it, but I’ve read that it’s kind of stormy this time of year.” She talked about clamming and sitting on the beach. She talked about Conner flying his kite and the little Moclips museum. She’d never talked so much in her life, but she kept it up until both men retreated back into their caves and shut the hel up.
“Are you about through talking?” Vince asked her before he took a bite of his croissant.
“Are you?”
“Not by half.”
“Then I’m going to have Conner fil your ears with nonstop knock-knock jokes.” She held up one hand. “I swear to God, Vince.”
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, defeated for the moment. Sam laughed, and Vince shot him a look that said he was retreating, but the war was far from over.
“Knock knock.”
“Not now, Conner. Just eat your dinner please.”