to the rear-view and found a car sitting behind him. “Oh, shit, sorry,” he said, making the right turn.
Makenna chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. Oh, just park on the street,” she said when they saw that four cars already took up most of the driveway in front of the two-car garage.
Caden pulled the Jeep to the curb and killed the engine.
“Looks like my brothers are all here, but I don’t know who the Beemer belongs to,” she said, shrugging. When she turned toward him, she was wearing a smile so full of excitement and anticipation that he was surprised she was managing to sit still. “Ready to meet everyone?”
At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to make her happy, so he nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Now he just hoped he didn’t fuck everything up.
CHAPTER THREE
“I’m home!” Makenna called as she pushed through the back door into the rectangular mud room. A big bench seat with hooks took up one wall, and Makenna placed the jug of apple pie sangria and the tray of pumpkin roll on the bench as she hung her coat. Caden settled their bags on the floor and did the same. The house smelled like roasting turkey and savory stuffing and cinnamon, and it was so welcoming that her heart squeezed for the want of seeing her dad and brothers.
Her father rushed into the doorway that led to the kitchen. “There’s my peanut.”
Makenna laughed. “Dad,” she said as they hugged. She didn’t mind the ancient nickname. Not really. And, oh, it was good to see him. She stood back from the hug and took him in—his brown hair had a bit more gray in it since she’d last seen him over the summer, but otherwise he looked exactly the same. Bright blue eyes. Laugh lines from a lifetime of good humor. And wearing the old apron with a picture of a turkey breast and the words I’m a breast man! her brothers had thought was a hilarious gift at least ten years before. “I want you to meet Caden,” she said, stepping aside to let the men shake.
“Caden Grayson, sir,” he said as he shook her father’s hand. She could hear the nerves in his voice, but she had absolutely no doubt about her father’s ability to put Caden at ease. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“You, too. Call me Mike.” Her dad clasped Caden’s shoulder and guided him into the kitchen. “What can I get you to drink?” he asked, then rattled off a long list of choices.
“A Coke would be fine,” Caden said, standing beside the big island in the center of the open, airy kitchen.
Makenna brought her contributions to dinner in and sat them on the counter. The rustic white cabinets, honey-colored granite counters, and warm wooden floors had always made this her favorite room in the house. But man, if she didn’t like the room even better with Caden there. “I’ll get it,” Makenna said, grinning to herself as she leaned into the fridge. Everything was better with Caden.
Her dad engaged them in small talk about the traffic and the nice weather they were having and how much longer the turkey still had to cook, and Makenna could see the tension draining out of Caden’s shoulder. She covered his hand with hers where it rested against the countertop.
Her dad took casual notice of the gesture but otherwise didn’t react. Though she’d told her father all about Caden, she’d never brought a man home before, so it was new ground for both of them. “So, Caden, Makenna tells me you’re a paramedic. What’s that like?”
“It’s…” Caden’s brow furrowed for a long moment. “It’s different every day depending on the calls we get. Sometimes it’s long hours of hanging out at the station, but most days you can hardly catch your breath for running between calls. Depending on how critical the situation is, it can be hard and stressful, but mostly it’s an amazing privilege to be there to help someone in a moment when they desperately need it.”
Makenna’s heart swelled at the passion in his voice. Despite all he’d been through—not just the accident and the loss of his mom and brother, but the life-long PTSD and having a father who hadn’t been there for him, too—Caden was such a sweet, good man. Two months ago, he’d held the elevator door for her when nothing else in her day had gone right, and she’d called him her Good Samaritan. Then, she hadn’t known the half of