Page 152 of His Surrender

“I thought we’d agreed we were retiring that nickname.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to anything.”

“I should’ve known.”

He kisses the top of my head. “You hungry?”

“Always.”

“Good, he replies. “We accidentally made enough food for forty people.”

“There are only fourteen of us.”

“I know.” He laughs. “It’s a problem.”

I laugh as my aunt Linda sweeps me into another hug before my cousins begin asking me a dozen questions about New York at once.

Within minutes, I’m answering questions while helping to set drinks on the kitchen island.

“How’s the city?”

“Is Liana walking yet?”

“Have you met any celebrities?”

The next hour disappears in the comfortable chaos only big families seem capable of creating.

My cousin’s youngest insists on showing me every drawing she’s made since she showed up.

Dad and Uncle Mark begin debating whether their football team will ever figure things out.

Mom catches me sneaking a piece of pumpkin pie before dinner.

Some traditions never change.

I don’t realize I’ve been smiling almost nonstop until my phone vibrates in my pocket.

I glance down to see Dean’s name.

A smile immediately spreads across my face.

Dean: I’m at your front door. Come open it.

I blink, then laugh out loud. I slide my phone back into my pocket far too quickly. I glance toward the front entryway.

I slip outside, hoping no one notices me leaving.

Cold November air immediately greets me as I step onto the porch.

Dean stands near the front door with both hands tucked into the pockets of his peacoat, looking entirely too handsome for someone who claims he just stopped by.

The second he sees me, he smiles. “I’ve been waiting almost thirty seconds.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, the horror.”

He takes a step closer to me. “I almost gave up.”

“You are so dramatic.”