Perfect Song (Mason Creek Book 2) by Lauren Runow (christmas read aloud .txt) 📕

of the email where she asks for the list of articles I want to pitch for the next issue, my stomach starts to turn a bit. Before the incident, I had a list of things I was planning to work on, but those things might be harder to accomplish here, as they were really focused on city living.

Looking out the window, I wonder how she’ll feel about changing things up and focusing on the smaller cities of the US. I know we have readers from all over, so it might be good to have a small-city section.

I type out my idea then open up one of the more fun, sexual articles I was just assigned when I hear someone enter the coffee shop.

Glancing up from my keyboard for a brief second, I see Tucker walk through the door.

“Hey, Poppy. How’s the car doing?” he asks as he approaches the counter, not seeing me sitting here.

“It’s been great, thanks to you. What can I get for you?” the barista responds.

“I’ll take a large Americano and one of those apple fritters.”

“You got it.”

The barista turns around to start his drink, and Tucker moves to take a more comfortable position as he waits. When his sight locks on me, I instantly move my head back to my computer.

“Funny running into you here.” He approaches my table, and I grin up at him.

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

“You mean, you didn’t just try to act like you didn’t see me standing there?” His lips tilt up slightly, and I can tell he’s just messing with me.

“Sorry. I wasn’t sure if you were looking to talk to anyone this morning,” I say, feeling dumb since he was obviously just talking to Poppy.

“I guess you forget what living in a small town is like. This isn’t like New York, where everyone tries to pretend the person next to them doesn’t exist.”

I let out a laugh. “Clearly, you’ve never been.”

“Nah. But I can only imagine.”

“Tucker, your order’s ready,” the barista says.

He pays and then comes back to my table. “Are you up for some company?”

“I can take a break.” I close my laptop and grab my notebook, placing them together and moving them to the side to make room for him. “Have a seat.”

He does so. “What were you working on?” He nods his head toward my laptop.

“My job is allowing me to work remotely, so I was just planning out some story ideas.”

“Yeah? What kind of stories do you write about in Living Now?”

I grin, not sure if I should share what I was really thinking about. He senses my trepidation and raises his eyebrows in question.

“If you don’t want to share, I’m taking it, you were writing about female stuff.”

I laugh. “Not really. I write a little of everything for the magazine; plus, I help put on events and do anything the magazine needs. My goal is to be the editor in chief one day, so my boss is grooming me to know every aspect.”

“Wow, you’re ambitious. I like that.”

I grin proudly. “But what I was working on right now was more sexual stuff.” I bite my lip, trying to stop the zing caused by saying that as I stare at the sexy man sitting in front of me.

He sits up straight. “Now, I’m even more intrigued. Do share.”

I shake my head, looking down and chuckling under my breath. Though I write this stuff, I’ve never really had a conversation about it with a guy.

I try not to blush as I say, “ ‘Ten Quick Tips for a Sexier Pout.’ ”

He motions to my mouth. “I can tell you right now, whatever you’re doing should be tip number one.”

So much for trying not to blush.

I change the subject, feeling like that was enough talk about anything sexual for the moment and decide to talk about my small city idea instead. “So, you like living in a small town?”

He tears off a bite from his apple fritter and pops it in his mouth, knowing I was affected by his words but allowing me to have the pass on that conversation as he thinks about my question.

Once he swallows, he nods, like he’s made up his mind. “I do. Of course, there are moments where I wish everyone didn’t know my business, but then there are moments where I’m very thankful I live here. I imagine that can happen anywhere, but it’s more often in a small town. I grew up in Billings. I liked it there, but this has always felt more like home.”

Now, it’s my turn to take a sip of my drink and think about his comment. I loved living in New York, but I can’t say there was a time when I was thankful that I lived there.

There was definitely a time when I wasn’t thankful I lived there.

I set my drink down, not wanting to go there.

“Do you have any family in Mason Creek?”

“Nope. I have a sister but she left Montana pretty much after high school.”

“Where’d she move?”

“California,” he says before taking a drink.

“Wow. That’s a little different than living in Montana.”

“Not like you’d think. She didn’t go to a big city, like you did. She lives in a small town that actually has some similarities to Mason Creek. So, you can take the girl out of the country state, but …”

He leaves the thought unfinished, and I smile, knowing where he was going with it. I think about my boots last night and how it felt good to wear them again. My small-town attire I guess.

I think about what it means to live in such a small town, especially compared to the life I’ve lived the last ten years. “But don’t you get sick of running into people you know everywhere you go?”

He shrugs. “Just because you run into them doesn’t mean you have to stop to talk to them.”

“I see. Then, you’re normally the person who tries to ignore people when you see them?” I grin playfully.

“You were trying to