Page 100 of Dallas Rivals

Another drop of sweat slides lower. Yep. Definitely not the weather.

I drive past the stables, the barn, and the tractor shed, following the familiar route that loops around the pond. The scenery slips by, a patchwork of fields and outbuildings, but Killian Walker remains silent beside me. He doesn’t utter a single word as I head back toward the house, the quiet between us stretching out, filled only by the hum of the engine and the soft crunch of gravel beneath the tires.

When I park in front of the house, we glance at each other, and he breaks into a wide grin.

“Did I pass the test?” I whisper, because Oliver is standing on the porch, arms crossed, watching us like a hawk.

“Oh, the test wasn’t for you,” Killian says, pointing at his brother. “It was for him. Look at him—standing there like a possessive guard dog. You don’t scare anyone, bro!” he shouts the last part, laughing.

I can’t help it—I laugh too, all the tension finally leaving my body.

As Killian climbs out of the cart, his huge frame blocking the afternoon light, he glances back over his shoulder.

“If you break his heart,” he says with mock seriousness, “I’m blocking you on Instagram.”

That does it, I burst out laughing.

“Deal.”

Eliza carefully sets the steaming turkey down beside me. Its golden skin glistens under the dining room lights, and the aroma rising from it is mouthwatering, filling the room with a sense of anticipation and warmth.

To my right, Silas takes his seat, with Julian and Lauren nestled beside him. On my left, Cala sits quietly, followed by Emma, Mila, and Luca. Eliza places herself next to Lauren, while at the far end of the table, Killian presides over the gathering, his presence impossible to miss.

The table is overflowing with people, laughter, and conversation. Hands reach across plates and bowls, passing around cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, and the vegetarian dishes that Eliza prepared with evident care and affection. The lively chatter and the clinking of utensils create a joyful din, making the occasion feel even more festive.

Once everyone has filled their plates, we turn to another cherished tradition: going around the table, each person taking a moment to share what they are thankful for. This ritual, simple but meaningful, draws us together and sets the tone for the meal ahead.

“I’m thankful for my family,” Silas says, pressing a kiss to Lauren’s forehead.

Lauren follows, smiling softly. “For our health,” she says, glancing at her husband. “Love and family.”

Silas pulls her closer, accidentally squishing Julian between them. He squeals, wriggling free. “I’m thankful I can still breathe!”

The whole table bursts out laughing.

My eyes shift to Killian.

“I’m thankful for the millions in my bank account,” he declares, raising his glass before downing it in one go.

Eliza laughs, shaking her head. “I’m thankful for this moment, for having the Walker family here,” she says, giving me a warm smile. I wink back.

“I’m thankful for second chances,” Luca adds, turning to Emma.

She smiles. “Me too.”

Then my gaze lands on Cala. I’m anxious to hear what she’ll say—it’s been a hard year for her, and I can’t imagine what’s running through her mind.

“I’m thankful to share a table with the Walkers,” she says, raising her glass. “For my parents and for new experiences.”

Everyone lifts their glasses and drinks.

I catch her eyes. “And I’m thankful to have you in my life.”

Our glasses clink.

My brothers’ wives let out a soft “aww,” while the men cheer and whistle.

“Mila,” I say, looking at my little niece. “Do you have something you’re thankful for?”