fine. They’ll get a kick out of her.” He opened the door and walked in first. “We’re here.”
The voices turned quiet, and Cleo emerged from the living room and to the front door. “Happy Thanksgiving!” She threw up her arms and hugged her son even though she’d seen him yesterday and then turned to Lizzie. “It’s so lovely to meet you, Lizzie. You’re so pretty.” She opened her arms and hugged my daughter tightly.
Deacon came next, ignored Derek, and went straight for Lizzie. “Hey, sweetheart. We’re so happy you’re here.” He gave her a hug too, like he already knew her.
Lizzie looked a little timid, like she couldn’t believe these strangers were smothering her with love when they’d never met.
“It’s not Christmas yet, but we have a few things for you.” Cleo placed her hand around Lizzie’s shoulders and guided her farther into the living room, where there was a half-decorated Christmas tree in the corner. A classic holiday movie was on the TV, making it feel like Christmas Day rather than the day after Thanksgiving.
Lizzie sat on the edge of the hearth of the fireplace while Cleo handed her a present wrapped in Christmas wrapping. She looked more comfortable than she did when she first walked in, but she still looked like a deer in the headlights. She opened the first present and pulled out a beautiful scarf, which was perfect for her because she loved to wear them. “Wow, it’s pretty.”
Deacon sat beside her and handed her a gift. “This isn’t pretty, but I think you’ll like it.”
She opened that one then pulled out a softball mitt, but it wasn’t just any mitt. It was all blacked out, looking serious and unique, something perfect for Lizzie when she was on the field because she could be a tomboy when it came to sports. “Whoa, this is the coolest glove I’ve ever seen.” She put it on her hand and tested it out, trying to bend the stiff leather by clenching her hand.
Derek turned to me. “I told them not to do this.”
“Do what?” I asked, finding the whole thing adorable.
“You know, act like grandparents.”
“Oh, I think it’s fine.” Cleo took me under her wing and showed me warmth like I was her daughter. That was just how she was. And Deacon had the same qualities, very fatherly.
“Looks like you’re set.” The younger brunette sitting there with a glass of wine in her hand must be Daisy, and she was the prettiest woman in the world. She had her father’s dark hair, her mother’s eyes, and she was just gorgeous. “You’re gonna look cute walking around in that scarf with the pea coat, and then you’re gonna kill it on the field. Real women play hard, you know?”
Lizzie smiled at her but looked nervous because she didn’t know who she was.
“Sorry.” Daisy shook her head and set down her glass of wine so she could extend her hand. “I’m Daisy. The youngest of the Hamiltons. I feel like I was your age, like, yesterday. You got a boyfriend?”
“No!” Lizzie gave a nervous chuckle.
“I had two boyfriends at your age,” Daisy said with a smile.
Cleo shook her head. “She did not.”
Dex came over, wearing a long-sleeved sweater and jeans. “What’s up, kiddo? I’m Dex. I’m the best-looking sibling in this house.” He shook her hand. “You look just like your mom.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot.” Lizzie held her gifts on her lap, all of them staring at her.
“People still tell me that Derek and I look like brothers,” Deacon said. “I take that as a compliment because my son is a pretty good-looking guy.”
Cleo placed her hand on Lizzie’s back. “Dinner is almost ready, but do you want some hot cocoa while you wait? I have these marshmallows in the shape of a moose, a rabbit, and a grizzly bear.”
“Yeah, that sounds great,” Lizzie said.
Cleo moved into the kitchen, and the rest of them continued to talk to Lizzie.
“Looks like I’m old news,” I said with a light chuckle.
His arm moved around me, and he pulled me close so he could place a kiss on my lips. “You aren’t old news to me.”
We sat together at the dining table and enjoyed a second Thanksgiving feast. A carved turkey was presented at the center of the table, and there were mashed potatoes, grilled asparagus with shaved almonds, and a lot of other good things that I couldn’t cook in a million years. The Thanksgiving I’d had with my parents was