He’d made the sausage, apple and cranberry dressing. It had turned out damn good. Even Amelia had approved, and so had his mother, who had told him he had to come home every Thanksgiving from now on to fix it. Amelia had made him promise he’d fix it for her again.

   Nothing like high praise from your mom and your girlfriend to make a guy feel good.

   But after they all cleaned up and put away the leftovers, he had to figure out how to find room for all those pies Amelia had made. Because she’d made six of them. Two pumpkin, one cherry, two pecan and an apple. He wanted a slice of each.

   Not gonna happen. He had a game Sunday, which meant in just three short days he was going to have to hustle his body off the mark, not sludge across the line like an overstuffed turkey.

   So maybe one piece of pie.

   Okay, two, at most.

   “Did I tell you that Anya made cherry cheesecake, too?” Amelia said as she came up beside him while he was staring at all the pies on the counter.

   He groaned. “You are all trying to kill me. Did I mention I need to be fast on Sunday?”

   “Why? You never were before.”

   Flynn frowned as his brother walked past. “Fuck you, Tucker.”

   Tucker just laughed as he left the room.

   “I’m going to bury him on family game day tomorrow.”

   “I’ll be sure to have my phone out for that. Aubry might need it for evidence.”

   “Please don’t kill my fiancé before we get married,” Aubry said as she moved by. She stopped and swiveled to face them. “That sounded really bad. Please do not kill my fiancé ever. There, that sounded much better.”

   Aubry walked away.

   Flynn could tell Amelia had been accepted by his family, which meant a lot to him. And after they sampled her wide selection of pies, they told her they were in love with her. They were sitting around the enormous dining room table drinking coffee, everyone groaning about how full they were.

   “You have to stay here now,” Easton said to her, “so you can make pie for me every day.”

   She smiled. “I’m so glad you liked it.”

   “We’d like you even if you couldn’t cook, by the way,” Easton said. “Just wanted to clarify that.”

   She laughed. “I’m glad to hear it.”

   “If you ate three slices of pie every day, you’d be too fat to work the ranch,” Lydia said. “So I’m afraid Amelia will have to go home.”

   Katrina rubbed her stomach. “I’m really glad I don’t have a photo shoot until after the holidays. I’m going to have to keep a strict gym regimen or I’m going to be in trouble.”

   “Is it hard work staying in shape?” Amelia asked Katrina.

   “Not too bad for me yet. I’m fortunate to have a fast metabolism, so most of the workouts I do with my trainer are for muscle-toning purposes. Eventually my metabolism will slow down and diet will become a factor. Especially with the way my sister cooks.”

   “Oh, sure,” Anya said. “Blame me. In advance.”

   “Just did.”

   “You’re perfect. And when you put on weight, you’ll still be perfect,” Grant said.

   Katrina lifted her gaze to Grant and smiled. “Thank you. And I might be perfect in your eyes, but I’ll be retired as a model. The cameras are rather unforgiving.”

   “Eh, screw them,” Grant said. “You can do infomercials.”

   She laughed. “Right. Like that’s high on my list.”

   Flynn’s phone rang. He picked it up, surprised to see Spencer Ryan on the other end. Since Spencer handled all his PR, it had to be important or he would never call him on a holiday. He left the table and punched the button.

   “Hey, Spence. Happy Thanksgiving.”

   “Same to you, Flynn. I’m really sorry to call you on a holiday, but I got an offer that I think you might find interesting. If this is a bad time, I can wait.”

   “No, go ahead.”

   He listened, then told Spencer he’d get back to him first thing in the morning. He went back to the table and poured himself another cup of coffee from the carafe.

   “Is everything all right?” Amelia asked.

   “It was my PR person. Spencer said one of the cooking networks called. They want Ninety-Two to participate in some kind of battle of the sports restaurants. It would be televised, with a signature dish from each restaurant cooked and featured on a TV special they want to tape.”

   “Wow,” Anya said. “That sounds amazing.”

   “It would be great exposure for Ninety-Two,” Mia said. “You’re not going to turn it down, are you?”

   “I told Spencer I’d think about it and get back to him tomorrow.”

   “What does it entail?” Amelia asked. “How much media will be at the restaurant? You do have your clients to think about and you don’t want them to be inconvenienced.”

   “Yeah, I thought about that. Spencer said it’s one day and they’re out.”

   Amelia nodded. “That’s not bad. And Mia’s right about the exposure. If they’re going to feature you and the restaurant, you can’t go wrong.”

   “It is basically free publicity, right?” his mother asked.

   “Yeah, I think so.”

   “I say go for it,” his dad said. “If your PR guy says it’s a good deal, then he wouldn’t steer you wrong.”

   “No, he wouldn’t. Spencer said this is a good network deal. There’s no money in it, of course, just free publicity for the restaurant.”

   “You don’t need the money,” Tucker said. “But the opportunity to drive more business to Ninety-Two would be great.”

   “I agree with Tucker,” Barrett said. “I can’t see how this is a bad deal any way you look at it, Flynn.”

   “Yeah. I’ll think about it tonight, but I’m leaning toward saying yes. They’ll have to film when I’m in town, so I can oversee it.”

   “Of course they would,” Amelia said. “Since you’d be one of the features anyway. And hopefully Ken will be back in charge by then as well so he could be there.”

   “Yes. I’d like that.”

   “How exciting,” Anya said. “I’d get to see your restaurant on TV.”

   “You are welcome to come out and see the restaurant in person any time you want. I’m sorry you weren’t available for the grand opening.”