Page 73 of Perfect Boy

Parking his truck behind a few other cars in the parking lot, he reaches over and pats my knee. “Ready, babe?”

“As I’ll ever be,” I mutter, and we grab our things and head inside.

Watson barely gets in the door before a little girl and boy come barreling toward him. Both squealing.

Dropping everything next to him, he scoops them up, one in each arm.

“Uncle Watty!” the boy squeals. “Uncle Watty is here, Mama!”

“You mean, your favorite uncle is here.” He swings both of them around before setting them on the floor.

When he kneels down, they both throw their arms around him, tucking their heads into his chest.

“Where my present?” the girl says, stepping back and holding her hands up. Her brown hair is cut into an adorable little bob, clipped in the front to keep it out of her face.

“Phoebe Marie! We don’t ask for presents. We’ve been over this.” A gorgeous brunette with long, silky hair walks toward us. “Even if it is just Uncle Watty, we still need to use our manners.”

“Very funny, sis.” Watson stands, pulling his sister in for a hug. “Ryann, this is Nora. My pain-in-the-ass sister. Nora, this is Ryann.”

“I have a friend named Ryan. Ryan is a boy’s name!” the boy says, looking up at me. “Are you one of Uncle Watty’s girlfriends? Mama says he has lots! But he never brings them to Christmas!”

“Emmett,” Nora hisses. “Also rude.”

Emmett shrugs. “Sorry, Mama.”

Nora looks at me, and even though I’m nervous, the nerves melt away when she gives me a smile. “Nice to meet you, Ryann. This is Emmett and Phoebe. I promise, they have manners. Well, sometimes.”

I chuckle and wave. “Nice to meet you, everyone.”

“Y’all coming in here, or are you gonna keep me waiting all day?” someone calls before I see a woman with chin-length hair heading toward us. Her kind eyes give it away instantly.

That’s Watson’s mom.

“Ryann,” she says sweetly, throwing her arms around me. “I’m so dang happy you could make it to spend Christmas with us.”

“Thank you for having me, Mrs. Gentry,” I squeak as she releases me. “You have a beautiful home.”

And, boy, does she. It’s so light and comfy in here. Like something straight out of a farmhouse Pinterest board. And the scent? Aaaamazing. I wouldn’t have expected anything less after Watson has made it clear how much she loves candles.

“Mrs. Gentry is my mother-in-law. That woman, God love her, is a lot. Call me Jeanine. Come in; come in.” She begins walking down the hallway, leading us to a living room.

An excruciatingly attractive man I recognize from Watson’s pictures struts in the room, his hair wet, like he just took a shower.

“Look who found his way home.” Jameson grins, walking over to Watson and slinging his arm around him. “At least one of my brothers came home for Christmas.”

Watson frowns. “What do you mean? Carson isn’t coming home?”

“Couldn’t, I guess.” Jameson shrugs. “Guess more food for us.”

Watson looks bummed that Carson isn’t joining us. And when I gaze at Jeanine, she looks sad. But when she catches my stare, she quickly smiles.

“I sure hope y’all brought your appetites. We’ll be having our usual spaghetti tonight with brownie sundaes after. And tomorrow, a turkey and ham dinner with all the fixings. And of course, pie.”

That all sounds so good. It’s obvious they have traditions they do here, and I feel the envy inside of me swelling. The only tradition I had growing up was the tradition of trying to scrounge for food for Christmas night. I would always save up to buy Riley and me a box of those Little Debbie Christmas trees. It might not have been much, but it always made her smile.

Watson pats his stomach. “You know I did. I don’t go anywhere without it.”

“Oh, my boy, I’m aware.” His mom laughs. “Hey, are y’all planning on going down to the lighting ceremony tonight?”

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