Rogue loved it whenever he touched her, in whatever way he did it. A kiss, the brush of a hand, when he set his forehead against her. All of it was a miracle that she never once took for granted. Everyday, she woke up with the worry that it would be the day she would lose control and never be able to touch him like that again. She didn't know if it was even possible, but that didn't stop her from being afraid.

"I'm fine with Thanksgiving, I promise," she assured him, setting her hands on his wrists and smoothing her thumbs over the sensitive undersides. "You want to do it, and I want this for you. You deserve something fun like this, and everyone will love seeing you there." She gave him a warm, affectionate smile. "I'll find a spot near the front of the parade and watch the show, then I can come back here and get to work on dinner while you finish up. Because if you're gonna go play celebrity all morning, you bet your cute butt I'm taking over your kitchen for this."