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Emma – Weeks after My Favorite Color is The Golden Hour
I glance over at Bryson, his shaggy hair ruffling as the cranked-up heater of his dad’s truck blasts inside the cab. We’re headed back to Mema’s for Christmas dinner after an afternoon in Eufaula.
A smirk tugs at my lips as I warm my fingers in front of the vent and imagine Bryson surrounded by my rowdy family.
“So, McDoom, are you ready to face the Blackwell chaos?”
He smirks back at the nickname. I only use it for special occasions, like when he’s beating me at a card game, when we argue over something silly…or when he’s about to meet my entire family all at once.
He rolls his deep brown eyes, but I catch the hint of a smile. “Bring it on, Emma. I’ve survived worse.”
“Oh, you think so?” I laugh as we turn off Highway 9 onto the long, winding road that leads down to our lake-side community. “Just wait until you experience the famous Yuletide Challenge.”
“I’m not scared.”
“You should be.” I wink and sip lukewarm coffee from a paper cup. The Yuletide Challenge is a family competition Mema came up with years ago. Some games change year to year, so there’s bound to be some surprises, but I’ve filled Bryson in on the details. Though, I don’t think he fully comprehends what he’s getting himself into. My family can be competitive when it comes to The Challenge.
I lean back in my seat. “Picture this: freezing during the beach-side snowman contest, solving—”
“Snowman contest?”
“Yeah. But made of sand, obviously.” I wave a hand to indicate the Oklahoma landscape. “No snow.”
“Right. Obviously.”
“Anyway, there’s the puzzle solving contest, three-legged sprints, and a pie-eating contest that’ll make you question your life choices.”
“Sounds…intense,” Bryson says, his voice now a mix of amusement and mock concern.
My phone buzzes with a text, and I grab it off the console. “Lucy says everyone has arrived. Audrey and her mystery man just pulled up.”
“Everyone? Already?”
I shrug. “We’ve been gone a while.”
Mema sent us with a few last-minute errands across the lake to Eufaula, and we ended up taking a detour to my favorite bakery and downtown shopping.
Bryson taps his fingers on the steering wheel. “Okay. Let’s go over it again. Who all will be there?”
I name off a list of aunts, uncles, cousins, significant others, and even a few neighbors. “Oh, and of course, the fact that Audrey and I are bringing our boyfriends to dinner for the first time is big news. You and—what’s his name?
Greyson?—will be interrogated for sure.”
Bryson swallows, and I laugh. “I’m kidding. Sort of.”
I reach across and grab his hand, threading his fingers through mine. It’s strange how quickly we’ve fallen into an easy rhythm, given our past. I can’t believe only months ago, he was my sworn enemy.
Bryson gives my hand a squeeze. “What do we know about Audrey’s new guy?”
“Not much. She’s been so secretive about him.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Secretive how?”
“Oh, you know, vague answers, changed subjects.” I shrug and pull out my phone. “Here’s what he looks like.” I swipe through to his Instagram account. “Audrey doesn’t know I found this, but I looked him up after she mentioned him over fall break.”
Bryson nods at the photo of a guy with dirty blond hair and dark brown eyes. “How do you know this is the right Greyson?”
I start scrolling through his photos. “There’s a photo of him and Audrey in the Chemistry lab. She told me that’s how they met. They’re lab partners. Wow, he posts a lot. Oh, here it is.” I show him the photo and then read the caption. “’Killed it in Chem today with my lab partner Audrey.’ It’s definitely him.”
As we pass by the site for the annual Carlton Landing Christmas Tree Bonfire and approach Mema’s house, a flutter of nerves mixes with my excitement. Cars line the driveway, and I see bustling movement inside the large front windows.
Bryson kills the engine, gazing up at the house.
I nudge his elbow. “Last chance to bail.”
He turns my way, brown eyes soft as he tightens his fingers around mine. “No chance, Blackwell. I’m all in. Besides, even if I did want to bail, Mema would just come find me since I live next door.”
“Truth.” I brush my thumb over his. “They’re going to love you, you know.”
He leans my way, a grin on his face. “Well, Emma.” He pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “That depends. How often did you talk bad about me over the last three years?”
I lean closer, pitching my voice low. “Oh, you know, it wasn’t that much.”
“Riiight.” He closes the distance between us and brushes his soft lips against mine. I move my free hand to his nape and bury my fingers in his curls.
Moments later, we jump apart when a soccer ball slams against the windshield.
Two kids I recognize from the neighborhood giggle as they spot us in the cab.
“Sorry!” one calls as he grabs their ball and runs off.
We laugh, and I reach for my door handle. “Well, I think that’s a sign. It’s time. Ready?”
“Let’s do this.”
We slide from the truck and trudge up the front steps. As we step inside, a wall of noise greets us. Laughter, shouting, and the clinking of dishes create a symphony of chaos that’s music to my ears. I inhale, savoring the scents of cinnamon and coffee that always remind me of Christmas in Carlton Landing. Mema’s been baking while we were away.
“Wow,” Bryson whispers, his eyes wide.
I chuckle, scanning the room. “Welcome to the Blackwell madhouse.”
Uncle Clint sees us first. “Emma’s here! And she brought a boy!”
Those near us turn our way, and I feel my cheeks flush as I give an awkward wave. “Hey, everyone. This is Bryson.”
As curious relatives swarm us, I catch sight of Audrey in the crowded kitchen.
Once Bryson has met everyone in the living room, I grab his hand and pull him that way.
Audrey, whose back is to us, puts out a hand to address those gathered around the island. “Okay, okay. Calm down, everyone. This is Greyson, and we met in chemistry lab. We’ve been dating for what?”—she rests a hand on his shoulder—“a few months now?”
Greyson turns so we can finally see his face. “Yeah. Since September.” He gives a nervous little wave. “It’s nice to meet you all.”
I frown, my brow creasing.
Dark hair. Blue eyes. A Dimple.
I glance at Bryson, who meets my gaze with raised eyebrows.
I’m not sure who that is. But that is definitely not Audrey’s Chem lab partner. That is not Greyson.
What’s going on?
Did my sister bring a fake date to Christmas?
Find out in the next book, My Favorite Color is Mistletoe!
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And I’m excited for you to learn what’s going on with Audrey in the next book. (Coming soon!) Don’t forget to find me on Instagram, Facebook, and Goodreads. And just so you know, Instagram is my favorite place to have bookish conversations. Hope to see you there!