Page 21 of Say Yes to the Death

“She doesn’t think that. She just doesn’t know you.” He brushed a curl out of Claire’s face. “Don’t let her intimidate you. She’s been like this since the divorce. Dove into work and never came up for air.”

The knot in her stomach did not relax.As he helped her carry the rest of the groceries inside, she forced a cheerful smile and decided she was going to remain positive no matter how many times Rachel rolled her eyes. And maybe she’d hide a bottle of wine in the dishwasher for emergency top-ups.

“How can I help?” Luke asked, rolling up his sleeves and revealing some swoon-worthy forearms.

“You should spend some time with your mom,” she said as she tied on an apron. “I can get things started in here.”

Plus, it would prevent her from flinging a frying pan full of bacon-wrapped scallops into Rachel’s smug face.

“I would love a walk,” Rachel added, standing.

“Okay. We’ll take Rosie,” Luke said, grabbing her leash from its peg by the front door. “Call me if you need anything.”

Rachel puckered her withered lips together as though she was smiling, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Claire shuddered as she turned back to the kitchen island. The second the front door slammed, she piped some metal music through the kitchen’s built-in speaker system and set her mind to preparing dinner.

Footsteps fell on the front porch twenty minutes later, and she quickly flipped her phone to a classical music station. She could only imagine what Rachel would have to say about Claire’s favorite band, Nightsmear. She straightened her apron as Rachel and Luke walked inside.

“Oh, I love Prokofiev,” Rachel said as she removed her cashmere scarf, adopting a thick Russian inflection on the last word.

Claire froze with a spatula in her hand. What or who was Prokofiev? Her gaze darted from the mushrooms in her frying pan to the bottle of vodka on top of Luke’s wet bar.

“Remember how you used to play the third piano concerto for me after a bad day? So dynamic,” Rachel said, removing her coat with a flourish and handing it to Luke.

Who spoke and acted like this? Was she a villain on a telenovela?

Luke laughed. “My fingers would cramp up, but it was worth it.”

Claire smiled in spite of the icy presence in the room. The thought of a lanky teenage Luke bent over a piano softened her heart.

“It smells great in here.” He stepped around the kitchen island and inspected the contents of the pan.

“Excuse me,” Rachel said, disappearing down the hallway.

“How was your walk?” Claire asked, setting a wooden bowl of tossed salad onto the island.

“It went well. The ice queen routine is part of my mother’s enduring charm. You shouldn’t take it personally.”

“Lovely,” she said, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. “Did you tell her about the thing?”

“I did.”

“And you made it clear to her that I’m not a gold-digging tramp?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to lie to her.”

She rammed her elbow into his side.

He laughed and spun her around, pressing her against the countertop. He buried one hand in her hair and planted a sensual kiss on her neck. Claire closed her eyes, body warming at his touch. Her limp hand barely held onto the spatula.

“Ahem,” said a small voice from the foyer.

Luke sprang back, taking a few strands of hair with him.

“Ouch.” Claire pressed a hand to her skull.

“So, Chloe. I hear you were kidnapped by one of your clients.” Rachel clutched her phone in her raptor-like fist.

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