Granny waved her free hand. “So Griffin eloping in Las Vegas? Is amateur hour. No cap.” She flicked her wrist. “Did I use it right?” she whispered toBowen.
He nodded. “You ate and left no crumbs.” They shared a fist bump.
Maggie giggled and rested her head on his shoulder.
“Wow.” Ford’s jaw pulsed. “You may be too old to clutch your pearls, but you’ve got a steel-trap for a brain.”
“Oh, honey.” Granny’s eyes turned fierce. “I will remind you of every gray hair you put on my head till the day you lay me in my grave.” She blew him a kiss. “And then I’ll turn around and tell you how much I love you and how proud I am of the man you’ve become.”
Ford grunted.
Peyton kissed his cheek. “I’m proud of you, too. And I like your tattoos. I like ‘em a lot.”
He growled and pulled Peyton against him. She melted, unbothered by their audience—the two of them putting on a show that bordered on indecent.
“But will you still like his tattoos when he looks like a My Little Pony figurine?” Holden deadpanned.
Ford’s only response was to slide his hand down and squeeze Peyton’s butt.
Jules gasped, bouncing on her toes. “You weren’t lying. We’ve been here less than twenty minutes, and I’ve already witnessed a butt-grab, first-hand.”
“It’s all part of being a Dupree,” I said. Then, for kicks, I let my hand drop and gave her a squeeze myself.
She shrieked and fell against me, laughing. Truthfully, she hadn’t stopped laughing since we walked in. Her eyes were luminous, her smile unguarded, and she seemed to glow from the inside out, like after a lifetime of searching, she’d finally found where she belonged.
Cash and Charlie stumbled through the front door, looking a touch love-drunk.
Charlie blushed. “Sorry we’re late.”
“M’hmm.” Aunt Tally checked her watch. “By almost twenty minutes. And you left church early.”
Ford smirked. “The question is, why’d you leave church early, and why are you late?”
Peyton jammed an elbow into his side. “You know they’re trying for a baby,” she whispered way too loudly.
Ashton held his hands up, stopping any further discussion on the matter. “Nope. A father doesn’t want to hear about his daughter doing taxes with her husband.”
Cash rubbed the back of his neck and stared at absolutely nothing.
Charlie tipped her head back and laughed, her hair falling behind her in loose waves the color of polished mahogany.
Juliette leaned toward my ear. “Oh, she’s lovely, isn’t?—”
But just then, Charlie noticed us, squealed, and tackled her in a hug. “Oh, my gosh, hi. I’m Charlie.”
“Hi.” Jules squeezed her tight. “I’m Juliette.”
After a few minutes of catching up, I cracked my knuckles and grinned at my wife. “I hope your memory is as good as Granny’s because I’m about to test your who’s who skills.” At her request, during our honeymoon, I’d pumped her full of info about each family member.
“Ready,” Jules said.
I pointed to Aunt Christy. “This is?—”
“Christy, Holden’s wife,” Jules recited. “Christianna Thornbury Dupree, to be exact. Wife of Holden, mother of Liam and Maddie. Resilient, confident, a force to be reckoned with in the best way. A transplant from Wyoming, but you’d never know because she’s acclimated so well to life in the South. An asthmatic who kicks butt at Spartan races. She’s the athletic director here in Seddledowne, and her husband thinks she’s the most beautiful woman on earth.”
“Facts.” My blond uncle grinned, his hands on Christy’s tiny hips.
“And that’s Holden,” Jules said. “District Attorney of Seddledowne, a reformed playboy who met his match when Christy walked in.” Everyone hooted at that. Jules leaned over and faux-whispered. “No worries, I won’t mention how Christy and Silas used to be a thing.”
