She and Caden had made a million meals together over the past few months, but there was something really special about the two of them working on a meal in the house where she grew up. It made Caden feel like part of the family, because to her he already was. Finally, the turkey was carved and the gravy was ready, and it was time to eat. Her father called everyone to the table.
Her father and Patrick sat at the ends, and Collin, Shima, and Ian sat on the far side. Cam went for the middle seat on the close side, which would put him between her and Caden. Not happening.
“Hey, Cam? Would you mind moving down one so Caden and I can sit together?” she asked, perturbed that he’d made her ask. She wasn’t sure what he was up to with this visit, but she wasn’t playing, whatever it was.
“Sure,” he said, sliding over.
“Here you go,” Caden said, pulling out the end chair for her so he’d end up between them.
She hid her grin as she sat next to her father and Caden took the middle seat. Score one for Caden.
Her father held out his hands, and they all followed suit. Out of nowhere, sitting at Thanksgiving dinner holding the hands of the two most important men in her life made her throat tight with gratitude and joy. Dad bowed his head. “Thank you, God, for fulfilling all our needs and blessing us with this food. Thank you for each person who shares this meal with us today. May our lives never be so rushed and busy that we don’t remember to stop and be grateful, to see all the things we have in this life. Our family, our friends, our homes, our health, our jobs. And may those who are less fortunate get everything they need this Thanksgiving, and may we always do our part to make their lives better. Amen.”
“Amen,” they all echoed.
Makenna smiled at Caden and gave his hand an extra squeeze before she let it go. The incredible serendipity of getting stuck in that elevator with him was the thing she was most grateful for right now, because she couldn’t imagine her life without him. His quiet generosity, his selflessness, his protectiveness, his sarcasm, the adoring way he looked at her, the way their bodies fit together—there were so many things to love about him.
Soon their plates were piled high and everyone was digging in. Makenna was well into her second cup of sangria and the warmth of it was spreading through her.
“Everything’s great, Mike,” Caden said. A chorus of agreements rose up all around the table.
“Shima,” Makenna said. “Where are you from?”
“I grew up in New York,” she said, “though my mother is from Japan. She met an American sailor and fell in love and here I am.”
Makenna smiled. She really liked this woman and was super excited for Collin. “That’s so romantic. There really is something about a man in a uniform.”
“Why, thank you,” Patrick said.
Rolling her eyes, Makenna laughed. “I didn’t exactly have you in mind.” She winked at Caden, who gave her a crooked grin. Even though his wasn’t as fancy as some, he looked damn sexy in his uniform—especially knowing he’d be helping people and saving lives while wearing it.
Patrick pointed his fork at Caden. “They just relaxed the tattoo policy in our department last year,” he said. “Used to be you couldn’t have any showing. Now you can have one showing on each arm. They give you any problems with that?”
Caden shook his head. “Arlington doesn’t have any policy regarding tattoos. But most of mine are covered anyway.”
“Your dragon’s beautiful,” Shima said. “I’ve always wanted a tattoo.”
Makenna’s belly did a little flip, and then she decided to share the news, because she’d have to at some point anyway. “I’m going to get one.”
Things suddenly got quiet at the table.
“Really? What are you going to get?” Shima asked, not yet cluing into the fact that all the James men were looking at Makenna like she had three heads—and looking at Caden like he’d introduced her to drinking the blood of bats. No one in her family had any tattoos.
Makenna glanced at her father, whose expression was largely neutral, though probably carefully so. “A Celtic family tree with all our initials. I wanted a design that meant something to me. And nothing is more important to me than the people at this table.” Her father’s gaze softened. Annnd she won him over.
“Just give it a lot of thought,” her dad said. “But your idea sounds great.”
“Thanks,” she said.
“Why do you want a tattoo?” Ian asked, an edge to his tone that said he thought he knew.
“Because I like them.”
“Since when?” he asked.
She nailed him with a stare and debated throwing her corn bread at him. Except that would be a terrible waste of corn bread. They might be twenty-seven and twenty-five respectively, but they still had the ability to bring out the twelve-year-old in each other. “Since a long time. I just wasn’t sure what I would want before.”
“A lot of guys on the force have them,” Patrick said. She could’ve hugged him for the show of support. “They’re pretty mainstream these days.”