Page 7 of Practically Perfect Together

This earns an appreciative laugh from around the table.

"Three times," Jameson adds with a dramatic sigh. "She said no three times before finally agreeing to go out with me."

"Smart girl," Evie says approvingly. "Never say yes too quickly. Keeps them on their toes."

The conversation flows around me as naturally as the wine. I've attended hundreds of business dinners, but none like this.

I find myself watching Jameson as he banters with his siblings, noticing how his eyes crinkle when he laughs, how he makes sure everyone at the table is included in the conversation.

"More potatoes, dear?" Evie offers, already spooning a second helping onto my plate.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly—" But it's too late. The food is there, and saying no feels somehow wrong.

"Mom believes food is love," Jameson explains. "Just surrender now. Resistance is futile."

"Hush, you," Evie scolds, but her eyes sparkle with affection. "Someone needs to make sure this girl eats. Look at her. All work and no potatoes."

An unexpected laugh escapes me, and Evie beams in response.

"There's that smile Jameson was talking about," she says, turning to the youngest-looking brother. "Isn't she lovely when she smiles?"

Rowan, who hasn't said much all evening, studies me with surprising intensity. "You make him happy," he says simply, before turning his attention back to his meal.

Something warm and unfamiliar blooms in my chest. These people actually believe that I belong here. That I make Jameson happy. That we're in love.

"I told you my family would adore you," Jameson says later, as we're helping clear the dishes. His shoulder bumps mine as he reaches for a plate. "They're pretty good judges of character."

"They're very... welcoming," I manage, still processing the last two hours.

"What did you expect?" he asks, his voice softer now. "That they'd interrogate you? Ask for your references and resume?"

"Something like that," I admit. "In my experience, people are usually more skeptical."

His eyes study my face. "What kind of family dinners did you grow up with?"

The question catches me off guard. "We didn't really do family dinners. My parents were busy. We ate when we could, usually separately."

Something shifts in his expression. Not pity, but a kind of understanding that makes me look away.

"Well," he says finally, "now you know what you've been missing."

Before he can say more, Evie appears, shooing us away from the dishes. "Out, both of you! Dishes are not for the newly engaged. Jameson, why don't you show Savannah the garden? The moon is beautiful tonight."

As he leads me through the French doors, I glance back at the warm glow of the dining room. At the easy affection that flows between them all.

For a moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like if this were real. If I actually belonged.

"You okay?" Jameson asks quietly.

"Fine," I say quickly, pushing away the strange sense of longing. "This isn’t what I expected."

His smile turns surprisingly gentle. "The Callahans have that effect on people."

* * *

The garden at night has a different kind of magic. Lanterns hang from tree branches, casting soft pools of light along the stone pathways.

"I should probably head back to Juniper Falls," I say, checking my watch. "Early calls tomorrow."

---