“That’s what I tell myself. I can’t wait for bursts of energy and a positive outlook on life.”

“You’re pretty positive most of the time.”

She laughed. “I am, but between the nausea and the exhaustion, I’m less perky than usual.” She leaned back against the chair. “So, what are your plans for Thanksgiving?”

He sipped his wine. “Checking up on me?”

“You know it. I want to make sure you have somewhere to go. Otherwise I’ll be dragging you to my parents’ house, where you will be forced to watch football with my dad while he complains about having dinner at three in the afternoon. At the same time, Belle, my sister’s Great Dane, will cower from Burt, my dad’s twenty-pound dachshund. Poor Belle just can’t seem to learn that she’s the bigger dog.”

“Thank you for worrying, but I’m having Thanksgiving with Steve and his family.”

She eyed him with a faint air of disbelief.

“You’re sure?” she asked.

“Cross my heart. You can ask Steve.”

“Okay. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to be alone.”

“I’m not.”

“It’s just as well you have somewhere to go. We’ll be dealing with a lot of wedding talk.”

“That’s right. Your parents are getting married. That should be fun.”

“I’m happy for them. It’s a little odd, but hey, so are most parents. Reggie and I are thrilled that we won’t be bridesmaids, but Belle, the Great Dane, is going to be a flower girl.”

“I want to see a picture of that.”

Dena laughed. “I promise you several. Reggie’s making her a dress, and then I think the plan is to hang a basket of flowers around her neck. It should be charming. How are the meatballs?”

“Delicious. Did you want some?”

“I’ll get them.” Dena glanced toward the dining room. “And melon. I can’t have the prosciutto.”

“No processed meats.”

“No soft cheese, no alcohol.” She sighed. “No coffee.”

“You miss coffee?”

“Yes. Decaf just isn’t the same. Coffee and I were good together. It was a long-term thing and we were happy.”

“You’ll be together again soon.” He rose. “I’m going to get you some food.”

“Oh, you don’t have to. You’re my guest.”

She started to stand, but he waved her into her seat. “I’ll be right back.”

He went into the dining room and put meatballs and melon on a plate, then poured her a glass of juice. But when he returned to the alcove, Dena’s eyes were closed, and her head was leaning against back of the chair. Her slow, even breathing told him she’d fallen asleep. Unexpected tenderness swept through him, followed by a fierce sense of protectiveness.