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

looks our way when the bell jingles above the door.

Ashley is there to greet us. “Do you want your place at the counter or a booth?”

He turns to me, and I shrug. “Counter is fine.”

“Your spot?” I ask.

“Yeah. Every time I come on the weekends, I sit at the counter, so Shorty and I can chat and sing together.”

“You sing together?” I ask, holding back a laugh.

“You’ll see.” He places his hand on the small of my back and walks me toward the counter, where two empty seats are.

“Tucker, my man. How’s it going?” a short, balding man behind the window to the kitchen asks. “Who’s your gal?”

“Hey, Shorty! This is Justine.”

I wave as we sit at the counter.

Shorty holds up his spatula. “Howdy.”

“Do you always eat alone when you come here?” I ask.

“Nah. Sometimes, Matthew comes too. I don’t mind eating alone though; it’s peaceful.”

“Peaceful? Here in Mason Creek? With all the people wondering why you’re eating alone?”

He laughs. “Yeah, I’m sure it adds to the gossip they all think about me.”

“You like being the guy of mystery, don’t you?”

He grins and winks in my direction. “It’s fun to hear what they came up with.”

When we first sat down, I heard music coming from the direction of the kitchen, but suddenly, I hear it playing louder.

When I turn to Tucker, he grins, “See? Told ya.”

“Is this band practice?” I tease.

He laughs out loud. “Hardly. So, what did you have in mind?”

“You said he makes the best pancakes, right?”

“Absolutely. You can get them with any topping you want; they’re all great.”

Of course I’ve had pancakes before, and to be honest, I’ve never noticed a difference anywhere I go, so I have to admit, he’s got me intrigued.

Ashley approaches us with a coffeepot in her hand. “Coffee?”

We both say, “Please,” as we hold up the mugs that were sitting in front of us.

“What can I get you?” she asks as she pours our cups.

Tucker orders banana nut pancakes with sausage, but I go for the plain pancakes with eggs and bacon. I figure if I’m going to try these amazing pancakes, then I want to taste them without all the added stuff.

A song plays that’s obviously older country, and I see the way that Shorty starts to dance around the kitchen. Tucker’s eyes crinkle on the sides in the best way as he blows on his coffee before taking a sip.

“She don’t know she’s beautiful,” Shorty sings, and Tucker glances my way.

I hear Shorty continue the song but Tucker sings louder than him saying, “Though time and time I’ve told her so.”

Shorty nods his thanks to Tucker and I laugh at their little game.

“Is that what you do? Correct him when you know he’ll get the lyrics wrong?”

He shrugs. “Kind of. He likes to sing but admittedly gets the lyrics wrong a lot, so when I know it’s lyrics that people trip up, I step in and help out.”

“That’s cute. I don’t think I know this song.”

“It’s Sammy Kershaw’s ‘She Don’t Know She’s Beautiful.’ Pretty fitting song right now actually.”

I flush with embarrassment. When he grins at my reaction, I try to change the subject. “I must be too young for that one.”

He reaches in his pocket and grabs his phone, typing something in. “It released in 1993.”

I try to hide my grin. “I was two.”

Tucker inhales a playful breath before taking another sip.

The radio DJ comes over the speaker, “How was everyone’s Saturday night? I don’t know about you, but I didn’t go down until the sun came up. Everyone awake enough for some Garth Brooks?”

Because of the odd way he sang it at the end before saying the artist’s name makes me wonder if it has something to do with a song.

When Shorty stops everything, coming around from the kitchen, I think I’m on the right path.

“Okay, Tucker. This is our battle!”

Tucker’s head falls forward as his shoulders shake from laughter. He tales a big inhale before nodding. He whispers to me, “I have to prepare for this one.”

I stare at him with wide eyes, wondering what he means. When he starts singing a song so fast that I can’t keep up, I just lean back and watch in awe.

The first verse he nails without missing a beat and takes a big inhale while the sounds of a harmonica blare around us. I raise my eyebrows in amazement, and to my surprise, he starts right back up.

I look toward Shorty, who’s mouthing the words but they obviously aren’t right, and he’s not keeping up, no matter how hard he tries.

When the chorus comes, Shorty jumps in, singing louder and seeming proud that he knows those words.

Tucker leans into me, grabbing my arm and singing overdramatically, “Ain’t goin’ down ’til the sun comes up,” right before the harmonica starts up again.

The two keep going with the song that never slows down. I can’t believe Tucker can keep up with the fast-pace lyrics, but at the end of the next verse, Garth Brooks holds the last note, which Tucker gives to Shorty by pointing at him in a take it away motion, and boy, does he. He holds the note for as long as the song, and I clap and holler all the way through.

The song ends the same way with a long note being held, and Shorty steals the show with his performance. Everyone around us claps. I cheer and laugh along with them, my cheeks hurting from smiling so big.

“You the man!” Shorty points his spatula at Tucker before heading back to the kitchen.

“Great job on those notes,” Tucker says back. “Now, make me my breakfast,” he teases.

“I’m on it. I’m on it.” Shorty blows him off as he gets back to work, like they didn’t just put on one hell of a show for the breakfast crowd.

Chapter Thirteen

Tucker

After breakfast, we walk to the car as I try to think of what we can do today, so I don’t have to drop her off at home.

“Do you have