My head falls back against his shoulder, but I only give in for a second before I bump him away from me with my hip. “We don’t have time for that, Jackpot.”

He spins me around, capturing me in a searing kiss. “Do you remember what happened on Thanksgiving last year?”

I roll my eyes, but it doesn’t detract from my wide smile. “Duh.”

He kisses me again, this one soft and serious. “This has been the best year of my life, Sadie Jane.”

“Ditto.” I reach up for one final kiss before stepping out of his embrace. “But really, we got shit to do.”

Gemma and Taylor, the new girlfriend, arrive a few minutes later, heading straight for the kitchen with barely a hello. Thanks to Taylor I’m free of sous chef duties this year, so I take my time finalizing décor before sneaking up to BaBs to answer a few emails and post on Instagram.

The studio is currently filled with paintings, and while I’m up there, I check out some of Jack’s most recent work. He’s started taking on a few commissions, though he doesn’t use the name Jackson Bennett. A couple of people in the art world have started to sniff around the story, but Jack talks only to his clients, refusing to confirm any theories. All the money he makes from his paintings is funneled directly into the foundation he set up with the profits from the sale of the Connecticut house. It’s a scholarship fund for people in their late twenties and older who want to go back to school or start a new career but don’t have the means. Jason was the first recipient, and Gemma the second.

When I hear a knock on the front door, I dash into my room to change before bounding down the stairs to greet our guests. Soon the house is filled with laughter and clinking glasses, the smells so tempting I consider sneaking bites of everything before Gemma plates it all. But she’d kill me, so I don’t.

I help Gemma and Taylor set up the buffet on the kitchen peninsula. Everyone fills their plates and finds their seats, and that silent hush falls over the room as we all dig in.