“You did.” Pretty much every time I saw her. “Were you lying?”
She winked again. “You’re all my favorite.”
I conceded only because it was true. My siblings and cousins all said Anna told them the same thing. As the oldest of the cousin crew—by a long shot—she took it upon herself to build each of us up.
She handed Jules off to Blue and wrapped her arms around me. “Hey, you. Happy you could make it.”
I gave her a rib-crushing squeeze, lifting her off the ground. Dang, I loved this woman. “If the last sixty seconds are any indication of how this is going to go,” I whispered in her ear. “I’m thinking I should take my wife and hightail it out of here.”
“Don’t you dare,” Anna whispered back. “But seriously, what did you expect? You married a woman who’s had her face on a thirty-foot billboard in Times Square, and you thought we’d golf clap?” She thumped my shoulder. “Come on now. You know better than that.”
She stepped back and waved for us to follow her and Blue into the living room.
The adults played it cool—casual waves, polite smiles, the collective performance of people pretending my wife wasn’t the most beautiful thing they’d ever seen. The youngers, notso much. Bronco’s eyes flew open like seeing Jules for the first time had caused puberty to kick in, full force. Jane vibrated in place like an over-caffeinated golden retriever. Belle looked one gasp away from sprouting actual starbursts in her pupils. And Maddie pressed her hands together like she was thanking God for admitting her to the promised land.
“Hi everyone. This is Juliette.” I gestured to my family. “Jules, this is everyone.”
Immediately, we were bombarded with welcomes.
“Hi, guys!”
“Hey, Griff. Hello, Juliette!”
“‘Sup.”
“Mercy, she might be prettier than me.” That was Aunt Peyton.
“Not possible, but a close second,” Funcle Ford replied.
“Hey, shugga,” Gramps said, voice warm. “Welcome to the family.”
Jules squeezed my arm like she’d just been crowned queen of England. “He called me shugga already.”
“Told you.” I grinned.
Juliette beamed. “I’m so happy to meet you all.”
“Girl,” Christy said. “Here in the South, it’s not you all, it’s y’all.”
Aunt Tally, the grammar Nazi of the family, shook her head disapprovingly. “Oh, Chris, no.”
“Don’t act like you haven’t said it, Tal,” Christy teased. “I heard you last week.”
Tally hid behind her hands, chagrined. “This family has seared it into my subconscious. Sometimes it just slips out.”
“Let me try that again.” Juliette laughed. “I’m so happy to meet y’all.” She said it in a flawless Seddledowne accent—light on the twang, heavy on the charm.
“Nice.” I squeezed her sides.
Granny, who’d been taking Jules in, finally smiled. “Hi, Juliette. We’re so happy you’re here.”
Ford swore, looking mad enough to hit something.
Ashton smirked and held out his hand. “Told you she wouldn’t care,” he said to Ford, who was standing next to him.
“For real, Mom?” Ford’s nostrils flared, looking genuinely affronted. He dug into his back pocket, swearing again.
“Quit cussing!” Granny and Peyton said in stereo.
