Page 51 of Flirting with My Billionaire Enemy

“Good job rescuing your woman,” Jenni says to Kaison.

“Oh, she’s not…”

“We’re not together,” we say at the same time, pointing between us.

Jenni cocks her head to the side like she doesn’t quite believe what we’re saying. “You might want to rethink that stance.”

“Oh, I don’t think—”

“We’re coworkers,” Kaison says. “It could get awkward.”

“Or it could get good,” Langston says, rubbing his hands together.

And for that one moment, for the first time in a long time, I allow myself to think about what he’s saying. It really could be good with Kaison. He’s proved to me today that he’s right there for me when I’m in trouble. For that matter, he proved that the first time I met him, when I practically fell into his lap. He caught me. And the thought warms my heart.

Would it really be so bad to let him in just a little bit?

24

KAISON

“It’s been a while since we had everyone here together for Thanksgiving,” Dad says, looking out over the crowded table laded with the turkey and all the traditional sides.

After going around and all of us saying what we’re thankful for, Dad says a prayer and then a frenzy of food being filled onto plates ensues. Mom insisted on joining Lidia in the kitchen to make her famous sweet potato casserole. She’s been feeling a lot better lately, and soon Ariana and I will be returning to Atlanta.

“Mom, your sweet potatoes are amazing,” Brensen says. “I can’t believe you were on your feet long enough to make them.”

“She probably shouldn’t have,” Dad says. “Her knee is extra swollen now.”

“I’m fine. I’ll just put some ice on it.”

“Shouldn’t you have some on there now?”

She waves a dismissive hand at me. “I’ll do it later. I want to enjoy Thanksgiving now.”

“Thank you for having me,” Ariana says. “All of this food is so amazing.”

“You’re practically family now,” Mom says, adding under her breath, “And if Kaison would get his act together, it could be official.”

I bite back a retort. I don’t want to say anything about the subject in front of Ariana. But how can I be with someone who wants to keep things professional? I’m not sure Ariana will ever want to be with me that way. But the longer I’m around her, the more it seems to be a good option.

After we finish dinner, Weston says, “Who’s up for some board games?”

Our family has a massive collection that we’ve been amassing since we were all little. Every now and then one of them gets worn out, and my mom replaces it with a new version.

Callie leads us into the family room and opens the massive closet that holds our games. She pulls down Risk. “Who’s ready to be conquered?”

“Oh, you’re so on,” I say.

“You seem pretty confident in your ability to take us down,” Ariana says with a challenge in her voice.

We head into the dining room to see if the table’s been cleared off yet. Zeb and Mittens are both up there, one on each side of the turkey carcass, happily chowing down.

“Oh, those little stinkers,” Ariana says.

Callie goes to scoop up Zebra, but the little rascal darts out of her grip and lands into the green bean casserole. Zeb freaks out and dashes off the table, leaving a little trail of goopy cat footprints behind him.

In the meantime, Weston grabs for Mittens, but she takes off through the scalloped potatoes and knocks over a bottle of vintage wine from our cellar that probably costs as much as a brand-new Honda Civic. The wine soaks into Mom’s prized white tablecloth that’s been passed down through the generations.

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