Trex nodded. “Okay. I’ll ask Darby. I’m sure she’ll be fine with it. We’ll stay until she has to go to work.”

Kitsch picked at his lunch, moving it around on his plate but never taking a bite.

“Attention!” Saunders called from the doorway.

We turned to see the general walk in. A few airmen at the other end of the cafeteria stood and saluted. We stopped eating and faced him, waiting to see what all the fuss was about. He walked over to our table. “Trexler, congratulations, your team has the rest of the day off to spend with your families, per Senator Bennett.”

“What?” I said. Peter knew I loathed special treatment.

“Calm down, Abrams,” the general said. “The early release is for all civilian contractors.

“Enjoy your Thanksgiving meal and then collect your things for the weekend.”

“The weekend?” Trex asked. We didn’t work a full eight on Saturdays and Sundays, but we were on call 24/7. “What will you do for Complex security?”

“Deep Echo will take care of it. You go home, they breathe fresh air, it’s a win-win. Happy holidays.” The general turned on his heels without another word, followed by his entourage.

I stood with my tray. “I’d better get home and finish dinner.”

“You need help?” Martinez asked.

“I’ve got it,” I said, rushing out.

Zeke was in the kitchen when I opened the door. He was still in his sweatpants and T-shirt, not a speck of food on him. His smile was bright. He rubbed the back of his neck, almost blushing. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to my girl coming home every day looking like she saved the world.”

I smiled, letting my duffle fall to the floor. “Who says I don’t?”

Zeke playfully took wide strides to get to me, then wrapped me in his arms, welcoming me home with a kiss. “I missed you.”

“Same,” I said, looking up at him. “I’m going to get dressed then help you. My whole team is coming over, plus Watts and one wife, their two kids, and a pregnant girlfriend.”

“Darby?”

“Yeah?”

“Cool.”

I joined Zeke in the kitchen. He’d already prepped and basted, stirred and boiled, baked and refrigerated. I hadn’t cooked for so many since my days at home in Sasabe, but Zeke was in his element.

Zeke popped a sliced strawberry in my mouth then kissed me. “This is already my best Thanksgiving ever. I’m a lucky, lucky man.”

“You’re a rock star in bed and in the kitchen. I’m feeling pretty lucky myself.”

He grinned while he searched for a place to put his mixture into the already full fridge. “And that’s not all I’m good at.”

“Oh yeah? What else?”