It was my first Thanksgiving outside the country. I still wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Paris was wonderful and amazing, but it wasn’t home.

Ryan was doing his best to distract me, but I’d spent much of the day feeling a little off. We were walking on a grassy pathway outside a busy little street crowded with shops. Ryan looked amazing, as usual, in a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up. When we rounded a corner, I saw a large table sitting beneath a pair of trees and stopped in my tracks.

Almost everyone from back home was sitting at the table: William, Hailey, Bruce, Natasha, Lilith, and even Grammy.

“Wow,” I said. “Did you do this?”

Ryan gave me a little smirk and a shrug. “That depends. Are you happy?”

“Yes!” I laughed.

“Okay, then it was me. Seriously, William?” Ryan asked when he saw William had already loaded his plate full of food and was eating. I had a little speech I was going to give.

Everybody groaned.

Ryan and I found our places at the table without any big ceremony or awkward pause, like we’d just come in from the kitchen instead of wandering upon the table in the middle of a park in downtown Paris.

I sat between Lilith and Ryan, and once we were seated, everybody started helping themselves. The food was mostly in to-go style containers, and while there were a few staple Thanksgiving items like a turkey and cranberry sauce, there were also a few bits of French cuisine sprinkled in like baguettes and croissants.

“Were you serious about the speech?” I asked Ryan quietly.

“No, definitely not.” He answered a little too quickly, and I thought his cheeks looked rosy, too.

I nudged him. “Were you going to talk about pilgrims?”

“Keep teasing me and I’ll make you listen to the pilgrim speech in bed tonight instead of letting you experience the Thanksgiving miracle I had planned.”

I laughed and darted my eyes nervously around the table. Everybody was chatting or admiring the view, and thankfully not paying much attention to us. “And that is?”

“Well, it’s the after dark turkey stuffing ceremony.”

“Like leftovers at night?”

“No, like I call you a turkey and then we have sex. The turkey gets stuffed. I say thanks. Bada bing, bada boom.”

“One, never say ‘bada bing, bada boom’ again, or I’m going to get you deported. Two, if you call me a turkey, you’re not getting lucky tonight.”

He jabbed a honeyed carrot from a tinfoil tray and popped it in his mouth. “We’ll see about that, turkey.”

I stomped on his foot a little, but he only grinned.

“So,” Lilith said. “Now that you two are done making plans to bone, are you going to say hi to your friend that you haven’t seen in forever, or, you know, just keep ignoring me?”

I gave Lilith a one-armed hug and kissed the top of her head.

“Ew,” she said dryly. “I didn’t ask you to touch me.”

“Well, too bad. I’m excited to see you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m glad your plane didn’t crash or whatever.”

“What is it like working for Valeria Purgot?” Natasha asked. She sat beside Bruce, and the two of them seemed the most interested in the view of the city. I also noticed that Bruce had a banana on his plate, even though I didn’t see where he would’ve found it among the Thanksgiving food.

“It’s hard, but kind of awesome,” I said. “She’s a total perfectionist, but she’s really savvy with the commercial side of art. She’s all about how you can chase your passion and still find a way to put food on the table.”

“Here’s how you put food on the table,” Grammy said. “Seduction. The power of the vagina. Suppress the man’s will to resist. Overcome his--”

“That’s probably enough, Grammy,” Hailey said softly. “This is Thanksgiving, not a Communist rally.”

William bulged his eyes in delight and held his hand out for Hailey to fist-bump him. She discreetly pushed her small fist against his.

Grammy gave Hailey a side eye, then took an impressive bite out of her turkey leg. “Well,” she said through a mouthful of food. “Deny the power between your legs all you want. Just means more for me.”

William tilted his head. “I’m not sure you really thought that statement through.”

She pointed her fork at him from across the table. “And I’m not sure you want another ass-whooping for back talking me, do you, boy?”

“You fought dirty, and I was drunk. And I was just doing the gentlemanly thing by letting you win.”

“Pussy,” she said with a sideways smile.

William glared.

We finished the rest of the meal without much drama, except for an occasional fight between William and Grammy or a teasing match between Bruce and William. It was the first time since I’d arrived in Paris that I wanted to stop absorbing the views around me and the new experience. I let my mind close off to everything but the familiar sounds of the people I’d quickly come to think of as part of my family, and I felt like I was home again.

Ryan and I were by ourselves in the apartment a few hours later after saying our goodbyes and wishing everyone well before their trips back home. I still couldn’t quite believe they’d all managed to fly to Paris just to have Thanksgiving dinner with us, but then I remembered William and Bruce probably had private jets and probably hardly thought twice about the expense of flying everyone over.

Ryan was typing up an email on his laptop at the kitchen table, and he was making his concentration face that I always thought was so sexy. I moved up behind him and hugged his neck. “Thank you for today. It was like you knew how bad I’d need that little dose of home.”

He kissed my arm. It was such a casual gesture, but it made me feel warm all over. In a lot of ways, it almost scared me how quickly I’d fallen into feeling somehow like an old couple with him but also having the fireworks every time we touched. It was the best of both worlds. The comfort and ease of an old, well-worn relationship where you never had to worry about being judged or hiding who you were, but I still laid awake every night giddy with the thought that he was mine and I was his--that despite all the odds, we’d found a way to make it work.

He’d shown another side of himself since coming here, too. He was more supportive of my dream than I could’ve ever hoped for. He admired me and appreciated my passion, regardless of how many people were quick to dismiss art as a silly pursuit. Ryan loved that I was strong, and it made me want to be stronger still.

"You're welcome for bringing the band of misfits to Paris for you, Turkey."

“You’re totally not getting any action tonight. You know that, right?”

He stood, taking me by the waist and walking me back to the nearest wall until I thudded softly against it. He bit his lip in that obnoxiously sexy way that made me feel powerless. “That sounds like a challenge, Turkey.”

“Stop it,” I laughed.

“I wonder if there are any feathers under here…” his fingertip trailed down the neckline of my dress as he pulled, popping one button free. “Oh, even better. Turkey breasts.”

I swatted at him, but he caught my hand and kissed my palm. His smile faded, and his eyes grew more serious as he met my gaze. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

My went tight in my chest. “Is this part of your turkey stuffing ritual, or are you being serious?”

“I’m being serious. And no, it’s not ‘I think,” he shook his head, eyebrows drawn together. “It is. I love you.”

“I love you too, Turkey,” I said.

“You can’t--”

“I can’t?” I asked, laughing as I walked him toward the bed and pushed him down. “Maybe you’re the one who should get stuffed.”

“Woah, woah, woah. I’ll tell you what I told the security guard at the airport. I don’t do butt stuff.”

I climbed on top of him and leaned down to kiss him. He tasted so good. He always did. His hands slid across my back and then he gripped my ass and squeezed.

“Well,” he said. “I’m not opposed to butt stuff if you’re the one on the receiving end.”

“Not happening,” I said.

“Yet.”

“Ever.”

“We’ll revisit the topic. Let’s say, next week?”

“Next year.”

“You drive a hard bargain, but it’s a deal. I’ll mark it as butt day on my calendar. We can--”

“Maybe you should stop talking and start stuffing. Turkey.”

He flipped me over to my back and climbed on top with a grin. “You’re going to enjoy regretting that.”

I laughed. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“It will,” he said with a smirk that was absolutely loaded with promise.