Page 97 of Worth the Fall

THANKFUL FOR THIS FAMILY

BROOKLYN

Iwalked into Mr. O’Grady’s home and instantly felt like I was part of the family. The last time I’d been here was a bit chaotic, to say the least. Thomas and I had made a scene, storming out, making out, and then declaring that we were a couple before leaving for the night.

This was different. All the O’Grady men were already in the house, split between the kitchen and the living room, which was blasting a traditional Thanksgiving Day football game, each one with a beer close by.

“Mr. O’Grady, can I help?” I offered as I slid into his kitchen and put the pies in the refrigerator.

“What’d you bring?” he turned and asked, his blue eyes shining. He’d gifted all of his sons with those eyes.

“Sweet Life pies. Pumpkin and apple crisp.”

“They do make the best desserts.” He winked before focusing back on the task in front of him, which included a hand mixer and the biggest pot I’d ever seen in my life.

“What are you making?” I tried to peek over his shoulder, but he stood on his toes and blocked my view, moving his shoulders every time I tried to maneuver around him.

I’d seen Mr. O’Grady at the resort a hundred times, but he’d never been playful. I liked this side of him. It was sweet and unexpected.

“These are my secret mashed potatoes, woman. Out before you steal my recipe.” He pointed toward the other room.

“Don’t let him fool you.” Matthew suddenly appeared and pulled me in for a hug. “He stole the recipe from Addison, and now, he claims it as his own.”

At the mention of her name, I heard a chair squeak against the wood floor. Looking toward the sound, I saw Patrick trying to hide what looked like hurt. I tried to change the subject because just seeing the expression on his face made me ache for him.

“I forgot to ask, what does Mrs. Green do for Thanksgiving?” I was suddenly feeling horribly rude that we hadn’t asked her to come with us.

“She has a group of friends that she eats with every year,” Thomas said from the couch.

I was grateful that she wasn’t alone. I liked her. Even though it had taken me two weeks to convince her to stop making dinner for us each night.

I didn’t technically live with Thomas and Clara yet, but I was there so much that the majority of my clothes were in theherpart of Thomas’ his and her closets. And whenever I did go back to my rented condo, I basically had nothing to wear.

Anyway, I wanted dinnertime at the house to be something that the three of us did together. Either we failed spectacularly at trying to make something edible or succeeded with gusto. Mrs. Green had finally agreed to makeonlytwo meals a week. I had taken it as a win, especially since my capacity for cooking was limited to about four things. The rest was a crapshoot.

The O’Grady house was bursting with love. You could quite literally feel it in the air. It was a beautiful thing to be surrounded by such masculinity and softness at the same time. Here were all these men, racing around the house, trying to make the day special for not only Clara, but also for each other. I would have envied their familial bond if I wasn’t now a part of it.

“I’m going to step outside and call my parents real quick. Wish them a happy Thanksgiving and see what Florida thing they’re doing this year,” I announced before Thomas crooked his finger at me.

Walking over to the couch where he was seated, I bent down and gave him a kiss before he whispered, “Tell them I said hello and happy Thanksgiving and that they should come out next year.”

Next year.