A Randall Thanksgiving by Judy Christenberry

yeah, of course, but—”
    “She’s with Harry.”
    Suddenly Griff stopped complaining. “She is? How did you manage that?”
    “I didn’t do anything. Well, not much.”
    “And you complained about me matchmaking!”
    “I wasn’t matchmaking. I just mentioned that Harry might have an interest in one of the pretty nurses.”
    Griff sat down on the side of his wife’s bed. “You’re the best, sweetheart. Much more subtle than me.”
    Camille laughed. “It wouldn’t take much to be more subtle than you, dear.”
     
    “A RE YOU GOING TO HAVE French toast again?” Harry asked, eyeing the woman across the table from him.
    “Why, yes, if you don’t mind.”
    “No, I don’t mind, Melissa. I enjoyed watching you eat it yesterday.”
    “And the fact that I gave you a bite?”
    “Yeah. I’m hoping for another one today.” He listened with pleasure as she laughed.
    “How’s your mom this morning?”
    “She’s doing very well. She should be able to go home in a couple of days.”
    “A good thing you’re here, isn’t it?”
    “Yes,” Melissa agreed warily. “You’re not going to tell me it’s a reason I shouldn’t go back to France, are you?”
    Harry gave her a direct look. “No, I’m not going to tell you that, and I don’t think your mother will, either.”
    “Thank you. No, she won’t.”
    “I would ask you if you’re still going back to France,but I can’t do anything about it anyway. Besides, we’ve already caused enough talk.”
    Melissa’s head snapped up. “Talk? What do you mean?”
    “Mike said someone saw us on the street yesterday when I was kissing you.” He flexed his jaw. “I didn’t think anyone was around.”
    “Oh. So you wouldn’t have kissed me if you’d known?”
    “Damn it, Melissa, everyone’s going to feel sorry for me when you leave!”
    “Are you ready to order?” a waitress asked, suddenly appearing at their table.
    “Yes, I’ll have the French toast, please.” Melissa looked at Harry, a challenge in her eyes.
    “I’ll have the number-two breakfast, please,” he said, folding his menu and handing it to the waitress. Melissa hurriedly did the same.
    “I didn’t realize I was making you an object of pity just by letting you kiss me!” she whispered as soon as the waitress moved away.
    “I’m not complaining. I just didn’t intend for anyone to see us. I thought you should know.”
    “I think I’ll survive,” she told him, letting her irritation show.
    “Oh, really? Even if your dad hears the rumors?”
    Harry felt guilty for his remark when Melissa paled.
    “Oh, no! I hadn’t realized— Maybe he won’t hear.”
    “Yeah, right. As Mike said, you know how much townsfolk around here gossip.”
    Melissa groaned. “Dad’s going to think he’s won.”
    “Not if you keep telling him you’re moving back to France. Surely he won’t believe a simple kiss is going to keep you here.”
    She lifted her chin. “No, I guess not.”
    The waitress brought their food, but neither of them ate with any appetite. In fact, all enjoyment of their breakfast date seemed to have fled.
    After a few minutes, having stirred the food around on their plates, they abandoned the effort. Harry paid the bill and then escorted her back to the hospital. He walked with her into the waiting room, which was empty.
    She turned to stare at him. “Well, I guess this is goodbye.”
    He knew what she was doing. And he’d resolved not to rise to the bait. But he couldn’t pass up one last chance to taste those delectable lips, to hold her body against his. “Then I’d better kiss you goodbye.” He pulled her into his arms.
    Melissa went willingly. After all, she’d practically begged him to kiss her again. She knew what those words did to him.
    Those lips he couldn’t refuse clung to his, and her arms held him close. But he wanted to be closer. He hugged her tightly against him, running his hands up and down her back. He slanted his mouth over hers to take the kiss