“What are you doing?”
Sam stepped up behind her, put his arms around her middle, and kissed her temple. He was the big reason for Libby’s sense of contentment. They’d begun slowly on this second time around, taking things one day at a time, and it was working. “I’m just being thankful,” she said, and twisted about in his arms. She went up on her tiptoes to kiss him.
“What’s that for?” he asked.
“Because I love you. And to thank you for looking out for me when I wasn’t looking out for myself. I don’t know where I’d be without you, Sam.”
He laughed. “In jail,” he said.
They stood together and watched Bob maneuver Leo to the end of the table and set up his liquid food with the silly straw. Everyone was finding their seats, filling wineglasses.
“This is where we belong, Sam,” she said. “You and me with all these people. I hope we fill it to the rafters with love.”
Sam kissed her, then took her hand in his. “There will be more love here than you’ll be able to handle, Crazy Pants. Come on, let’s go carve a turkey. And I don’t mean Leo.”
Libby laughed, and with her hand in Sam’s, she went to find her place at the table—right in the middle of all those smiling faces.