🎆 Happy Fourth Ya'll 🎇 || James Bond ||
A/n: James meets your family|
James Bond had attended embassy galas in Paris, casino parties in Monaco, and lavish celebrations hosted by billionaires who could buy small countries if they wished.
None of them, however, had prepared him for rural Texas on the Fourth of July.
The moment the rental truck turned onto the long dirt road leading to your parents’ ranch, James realized he was entirely out of his depth.
American flags seemed to be everywhere.
They hung from the fence posts, waved from the barn, and even decorated the mailbox. A massive banner stretched across the porch that read: HAPPY FOURTH, Y’ALL!
You bounced in your seat, practically vibrating with excitement.
“Oh my God, there are more trucks than last year. That means my cousins are here.”
James glanced toward the house. There were indeed an alarming number of vehicles parked on the property.
“How many people are attending this celebration exactly?”
You thought about it then shrugged. “Probably forty.”
He looked at you. “Forty?”
“Maybe fifty if Uncle Ray brought his fishing buddies.”
James stared. “You invited me to a family gathering with fifty strangers?”
He exhaled slowly. “You could have warned me.”
“No, you said and I quote, ‘It’s just a little family barbecue.’”
The truck had barely stopped before the front door burst open.
A woman with your eyes and your smile came barreling down the porch steps.
Your mother threw her arms around you.
You laughed, hugging her tightly.“Mama! You look so pretty!”
“I haven’t even done my hair.”
“You always look pretty.”
James watched with quiet amusement.
Then your mother noticed him, her eyes went wide for a moment. “Oh.” She looked him up and down.
James had endured the scrutiny of intelligence agencies.
“You weren’t kidding,” your mother said.
“No, sweetheart, I need a second. He’s handsome.”
You buried your face in your hands.
James, to his credit, merely offered his hand as he smiled. “James Bond.”
She ignored the handshake and pulled him into a hug. “Welcome to Texas, honey.”
He froze, very carefully, he patted her back. "Thank you...?."
You snorted. “You look terrified.”
“I was not prepared to be hugged by your mother.”
“Oh, just wait until Grandma gets here.”
The color drained from his face.v“You have a grandmother too?”
You laughed so hard you nearly tripped.
Within ten minutes, James had met both parents, three cousins, two uncles, an aunt who insisted he needed another hamburger despite not having eaten one yet, and a grandfather who shook his hand and declared, “Good grip. I like you.”
Children ran across the yard with sparklers.
Country music played from somewhere.
The scent of smoked meat filled the air.
And everyone seemed to know exactly who he was.
“So you’re the British fella,” one of your uncles said.
James blinked. “I suppose I am.”
“Can you do the accent thing?”
“I… already have an accent.”
“No, no. Say something British.”
An hour later he found himself standing beside an enormous smoker while your father checked the ribs.
“You ever had Texas barbecue?” your father asked.
The older man snorted. “No, son. You’ve had barbecue. You ain’t had Texas barbecue.”
A plate was shoved into his hands.
Enough food to feed an army.
James stared at it. “This is one serving?”
Your father looked offended. “Of course it is.”
You appeared beside him carrying your own plate kissing his cheek. "You’re gonna love it."
He took a bite of brisket.
He swallowed, his tongue sliding over his lower lip to lick the sauce away. “This might be one of the greatest things I’ve ever eaten.”
Your father beamed. “I knew I liked this boy.”
After lunch came the games.That was where things truly went wrong.
“What’s cornhole?” James asked.
Your cousins looked scandalized. “You don’t know cornhole?”
You patted his arm. “It’s okay, honey. We’ll teach you.”
Twenty minutes later, James was unexpectedly invested in winning.
“Again,” he said after narrowly missing.
Your cousin laughed. “You are weirdly competitive.”
James adjusted his stance. “Am I?”
“You’ve been practicing for fifteen minutes.”
“I simply wish to improve.”He threw the beanbag and it landed perfectly.....of course.
James blinked then he slowly smiled as he puffed up his chest.
You looked at him in surprise. “You actually seem happy.”
He glanced at you. “You say that as though it’s unusual.”
Later, someone handed him a cold beer.
By sunset, James was sitting on the porch with your father and uncles, all of them discussing trucks.
You found him there and nearly burst out laughing.
Your boyfriend—the legendary James Bond—was wearing a cowboy hat.
“I’ve been informed it suits me.”
One of your uncles grinned. “We’re keeping him.”
James raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware I was up for adoption.”
You sat beside him, resting your head against his shoulder.
The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the ranch in shades of orange and gold.
For a long moment, James simply watched everything.
Children chasing fireflies.
Your grandmother rocking gently on the porch swing.
Your mother carrying out dessert.
The dogs asleep beneath the picnic tables.
You looked up at him. “What are you thinking?”
He was quiet for a moment. “I don’t believe I’ve ever attended anything quite like this.”
“You mean a family barbecue?”
“I mean…” He looked at you. “This.”
You frowned slightly. “This?”
He gestured toward the yard. “Everyone together. No expectations. No pretenses. Just…” He searched for the word. “Happiness.”
Your expression softened. “You never had this growing up.”
He looked back toward the yard. “No.” He lost his parents young then he jumped around from boarding school to boarding school....so this was all new to him.
You slipped your hand into his. “Then you can borrow mine.”
James looked at you.The porch lights reflected softly in your eyes.You smiled at him like it was the simplest thing in the world.
Something warm settled in his chest.He lifted your hand and kissed your knuckles.
Darkness finally settled over the ranch.
Everyone gathered in the field with blankets and lawn chairs.
The first rocket exploded overhead in a burst of red.
Your face lit up with childlike wonder. “Oh! That one looks like a flower!”
“And that one looks like a jellyfish!”
James smiled despite himself.
You looked beautiful like this.Completely enchanted by something as simple as fireworks.
You noticed him watching you. “What?”
He reached over and brushed a strand of hair from your face. “I think this might be my favorite holiday.”
“I’ve eaten extraordinary food, played games I don’t understand, and somehow ended up wearing a cowboy hat.”
“But mostly…” His gaze softened. “I’ve never seen you this happy.”
The fireworks reflected in his blue eyes.
“You know…” you said quietly, “I was nervous about bringing you here.”
“What if you hated it? What if it was too loud or too chaotic?”
James looked around at your family.
Someone was trying to light a sparkler with a barbecue lighter.
A child was chasing a chicken.
Your uncle had somehow started singing.
And yet…He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been anywhere that felt more alive.”
Your smile was soft and bright.
Another firework exploded overhead.
James leaned down and kissed your forehead.You sighed happily and curled into his side.
For the first time in a very long time, James Bond wasn’t thinking about missions or enemies or the next assignment waiting for him back in London.
He was thinking about brisket.
About your grandfather teaching him how to throw beanbags.
About your mother hugging him.
About your father calling him “son.”
And as another burst of red, white, and blue lit up the Texas sky, James realized something rather terrifying.
He could get used to this.
He could get used to all of it.
And for perhaps the first time in his life, the thought of belonging somewhere didn’t frighten him at all.
