“How would you feel about coming to Oregon with me?” I asked, nervousness making my words come out a bit stilted.

“What?” Her eyes widened in surprise.

“I was planning on going home for Thanksgiving, and I want you to go with me,” I said. “My family will love you. Come.” I watched her expression move from surprise to contemplation, and I relaxed just a little. At least she hadn’t told me no right away.

“Who’s going to be there?” she asked softly, laying her head down on my chest.

“My parents,” I replied, wrapping my arm around her as I used my other hand to pull her comforter over us. “My brother and sister and their families.” I paused, not wanting to overwhelm her, then pressed forward. “And probably my uncle and aunt and cousin Trevor and his family.”

“So it’s a big event, then,” she said softly.

“Not a formal one,” I said, smiling as she raised her knee until it was across my thighs, her foot resting between my calves. “Dinner and maybe some touch football. Some ATV riding. At least one night out so all the cousins can get hammered while our parents watch the kids.”

“Sounds fun,” she said, her voice even quieter.

“It is.” I loved my family. I knew a lot of people who complained about their relatives back home, but I didn’t. My parents were the best people I knew, and even though my brother drove me crazy, I genuinely liked my siblings and their partners. I was lucky.

“Do you want to go with me?” I asked after a while, just as I felt Sarai’s body relax fully against mine.

“Sure,” she said, giving my chest a kiss. “Let me know how much the tickets cost.”

There was no way in hell Sarai was buying her own plane ticket. I grinned into the darkness. She was coming home with me for Thanksgiving.

*  *  *

“I’m sorry,” Sarai said the next morning as she followed me out the front door. We’d woken up when her regular alarm had gone off, and in a perfect world she would have had plenty of time to get ready. However, waking up naked and wrapped around another person made the mornings move a bit slower than usual. By the time we’d finished another round of sex, she’d been running late and I’d felt very guilty.

“Stop saying you’re sorry,” I told her as she locked her front door behind us. “I’m the one who made you late.”

“I feel like a jerk kicking you out—”

“I need to go home and get ready for work anyway,” I reminded her, ushering her toward her car.

As soon as we reached the driver’s-side door, Sarai froze and spun toward me. “I had a really great time,” she said, stretching up on her toes to give me a quick kiss. “In case you didn’t know that.”