Just Like Breathing by Diana Gardin

Author:Diana Gardin [Gardin, Diana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-03-11T18:30:00+00:00

When Flash opens his front door, I immediately drop down to greet Nitro.

“How’s my sweet boy today?” Nitro rubs his face against mine, and I stand up, pulling a peanut butter snickerdoodle out of my bag. “Do you want this, sweet boy? Do you?”

Flash leans against the doorjamb, arms folded, a smirk pulling up one side of his mouth in a grin that sends swarms of butterflies rioting around my stomach.

“Spoiled rotten,” he remarks.

Tossing the cookie into the air, I clap when Nitro leaps up to catch it and then gulps it down in one bite. He returns to Flash’s side, ready to serve his master just as before, and I give him one last scratch behind the ears before I turn to Flash.

“He deserves to be spoiled. Remember, you told me that once. And I just happen to agree. It’s his Thanksgiving too.”

One strong arm wraps around my waist as Flash pulls me toward him, dropping a kiss on top of my head. He lingers there a moment, inhaling the scent of my hair, which I happen to know he loves.

When I glance up at Brantley, she’s watching us with rapt attention, her mouth hanging slightly open.

“Wow,” she finally says. “I haven’t seen you two together since the last time we were here, and…damn. I guess things are progressing.”

Her tone is a mixture of teasing and concern, and I know I’m going to have to have a talk with her later, explaining where Flash and I stand.

But first, I’m going to need to figure out for myself exactly where Flash and I stand.

Flash senses the war currently raging inside me and lets go of my waist long enough to grab hold of my hand. “Right this way, ladies. Welcome to our first Thanksgiving That Isn’t.”

“Thanksgiving That Isn’t?” I wrinkle my nose in confusion. “What’s that?”

He leans down as Brantley brushes past us, heading toward the great room. “It’s what I figured you needed today. I hope you’re okay with it.”

I nod, letting him lead me down the hall and into the great room. Where my steps stutter to a stop. Just to my left, in Flash’s big, wide-open kitchen, are two caterers dressed in white jackets, bustling around the room. As my eyes find the giant slider heading out to the patio, I find that a large wooden table has been set up outside, one that wasn’t there the last time we visited.

“What’s…what’s going on? You’re having Thanksgiving catered?”

Even as my eyes scan the countertops, I see no turkey, no side items that remind me remotely of Thanksgiving at all.

Flash’s voice in my ear causes a shiver to run down the length of my spine, and I lean back against him without even realizing I’m doing it. One of his arms curls protectively around my waist.

“Yes, I’m having it catered. But it’s going to be different than any other Thanksgiving. I want today to be full of new memories for you, sweetheart. I don’t want to try to replace the old memories you have from holidays past.

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