Page 39 of Love Harvested on Thanksgiving
“Of course, princess,” he whispers, pressing my hand to his lips.
I glance at him, my hand still in his. “Are you going to get in trouble?”
He sighs and laughs. “No—I won't be getting in trouble.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
FINLEY
We sit at the table with Alex’s friends. It’s the first Thanksgiving I haven’t spent alone in years. The table is alive with laughter, every seat filled.
I’m not an emotional guy, but this—this makes my throat tighten a little.
I was nervous to come meet her friends, but I at least know one of them—Nova. She’s Dakota’s cousin. Alex didn’t even know.
She looks beautiful as always. Her long red hair down her back in soft curls, and her sweater dress clings perfectly to her figure. And those eyes—those stunning brown eyes.
I’ve finally asked her to be my girlfriend, and somehow, I was lucky enough for her to say yes.
“Can you pass me the gravy, Wildflower?” I ask.
Her mouth falls open. “You read the book!?” She grins, passing me the gravy boat.
I nod and Opal chimes in, “Did someone say book?”
Alex laughs, “yeah, Finley borrowed one of my sappy romances, and he actually read it, apparently. The main male character calls her Wildflower.”
Everyone at the table laughs.
“What? It had a barn on it, I was interested.” I shrug.
“What book was it?” Opal asks, her eyes narrow as she looks at me over the rim of her glass.
“Romance in the Barn,” Alex replies before I can get a word out.
“Oh, IloveKay Sealey books!” Opal says enthusiastically.
After dinner, Opal, and Kellan herd everyone into the kitchen. They stand next to the stove while the rest of us line up along the bar across from them.
Opal is grinning. “We’d love to show everyone what we’ve been baking,” she says.
Kellan swings the oven door open, and Opal pulls out a turkey plush with an ultrasound photo stitched into its side. They hold it up and say in unison, “We’re having a baby!”
Cheers erupt from everyone in the room.
Opal presses a button on the plush, and it starts making a soft sound. “Look! It even plays the baby’s heartbeat,” she says.
I glance at Alex. She’s sniffling, wiping tears from her cheeks.
“I’m gonna be an auntie,” she whispers.
Epilogue
Finley and I stand out on the front porch of the farm—the place I now call home. It’s Thanksgiving Day, and my family is here. My dad is out by the fire pit, stacking wood and coaxing the bonfire to life.
My brothers are inside, arguing over a football game, and Opal and Kellan are here too—with their daughter, Mia. She’s two now.
This is our third Thanksgiving together—three years as official boyfriend and girlfriend.
