Thanksgiving morning Veronica woke to a familiar aroma, one she hadn't smelled in the house in years. She wasn't completely sure, but as she walked through the hallway toward the kitchen, the smell was unmistakable: honey ham. It smelled delicious.
She turned the corner to see Noah in the kitchen wearing an apron and peeling potatoes. The dining table was set for two, centerpiece and all, and there were pies on the center island. "What do you think you're doing?"
Noah glanced up at her with a grin. "I'm making Thanksgiving dinner for us."
"No, you're not. You're going to Gio's house. You said you were really looking forward to it."
He raised an eyebrow with the grin turning into an all-out smile. "But what I decided I've been looking forward to even more—my entire life—was preparing a
