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

Save it for after lunch because you’ve persuaded me.

Meet me at Wren’s. Say, in an hour?

Sure. See you there.

I send him back a bunch of eggplant emojis and laugh at my own corniness.

My mom let me borrow her car, and I easily park it on the street next to the town square. I walk across the way to Wren’s Café, the local diner. I’m looking forward to their BLT that I haven’t had in ages, but I didn’t think about the people here—or more importantly, the rumors that will start with us eating together.

Hanging out in a group at a bar is one thing. Eating together for lunch is totally another. We didn’t have to worry about anything like that when we were out on his boat … and suddenly, he makes even more sense.

As I hop on the sidewalk, I see Tucker walking down the street from the direction of his work, smiling at me. I stop and take in just how sexy this man is. With his golden skin and full lips, I swear he gets more attractive every time I see him. Today, he’s not wearing a hat, and his dark brown hair is perfectly messy, making him look even better.

“What perfect timing,” I say as he approaches.

“I was just thinking the same thing.” He leans in and kisses my cheek hello.

How he places his hand on my side as he holds his lips to my cheek sends chills down my spine in the absolute best way.

We head toward the diner, but Tucker stumbles as he trips over his own foot. I catch him, and he laughs, turning his body into me so we’re almost hugging.

“You okay?” I ask, steadying him.

“Sorry, apparently, I have two left feet today,” he jokes.

He reaches for the door, holding it open for me as I enter, the bell above it announcing our arrival.

“Hey, Tucker,” a woman yells from behind the counter. “Grab a seat anywhere, I’ll be right there.”

He places his hand on my lower back and leads me toward an empty booth. “So, how’s your day going?” he asks as we slide in.

“Trying to get the hang of things, working remotely,” I respond. He hands me a menu, but I hold up my hands in refusal. “No need. I know exactly what I’m getting.”

“You like this place too?”

“I used to come here all the time. I haven’t been since I’ve been back though.”

A woman approaches us. “Good to see you’re not eating alone today. Who’s your friend?” she asks, not hiding any surprise that I’m sitting here with him.

“Ashley, this is Justine. She grew up here and just moved back to town.”

She steps back to get a better look at me from across the table. As she points her pen at me, she nods her head. “Yes, you’re Milt and Kathy’s daughter. Look at you, all grown up.”

“Ten years will do that to you.” I laugh. “Glad you remember me. My parents and I used to come here a lot.”

“Has it really been ten years since you’ve been back?”

I take an inhale and nod with pursed lips.

“Wow. Time flies. So, what can I get you two?” She holds up her pen and pad, ready to write our orders.

“I’d love a BLT with some fries and an iced tea,” I order.

She turns to Tucker. “And the usual for you?”

“Yep. Thank you.”

As she walks away, I turn back to Tucker. “The usual? You come here that often?”

“Oh yeah. I get their French dip sandwich. But have you really not been back for ten years?”

I nod.

“Why haven’t you come back?”

I shrug. “I was always so busy that my parents would come to me. And if I got a few days off, we’d go to Florida or Myrtle Beach together. We got in this pattern and yearly schedule, and it just kind of stuck.”

“Why did you leave Mason Creek to begin with?”

“I got into Columbia University.”

He purses his lips, raising his eyebrows with an appreciative nod.

I smile and continue, “When I’d applied, I’d thought there was no way, but when I was accepted, I knew I couldn’t turn it down.”

“I can understand that. I can’t imagine leaving here right after high school and moving across the country.”

I shrug. “It took some getting used to at first. But then it became home.”

“What made it home?”

“Friends. Kylie is the best one I have there. She works with me, and we’ve done everything together. Also, Manhattan might be a large borough, but your neighborhood becomes your new small town. I lived in Tribeca, which is actually the triangle below Canal Street. Anyway, I had this really great coffee shop where I’d grab a latte every morning before getting on the subway, and the bar on my corner became a regular spot for me on Fridays. I had the best neighbors. We were always looking out for each other in my building.”

“Sounds nice. A building would take some getting used to.”

“My apartment was bigger than your houseboat.”

“But I have the lake and plenty of places to roam.”

“Same for me. I would run on the West Side Highway and along the Harlem River, and there was so much energy all around me that I always felt invigorated.”

“You sound like you miss it.”

I sigh, realizing there are certain things I really do miss about living in the city. “Some things, yes.”

“So how did a girl from Mason Creek get started with a national publication?”

“I’ve been with them since I graduated college. Actually, before that even. I started as an intern while I was still in school and worked my way up. Now, I’m one of their staff writers.”

“I’m impressed.” He slowly nods his head, and I can tell he means that genuinely. “They were okay with you moving back here?”

Moments of the last month flash before my eyes. My ex, that night, the aftermath. I feel myself go pale, and I try to hide it with a fake smile and a deep breath.

“They said they were