Page 26 of Queen's Ransom

“Almost?”

“This is the first time we’ve talked.” She pushed up her sleeves and rested against the table. “I’m sorry for that. Things were a little crazy yesterday.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your text,” Celia said. Things had been hectic for Helena, but she’d taken the time to check in. Celia felt bad for not responding. “Lily was fussy, so I was helping Holt out.” And she hadn’t wanted to see anymore texts from Dex. None had been there this morning when she’d deleted the first. “How’d the meeting go last night?”

Helena curled her fingers around the edge of the table behind her. “More questions than answers. The usual.”

“I’m sorry things got so complicated.” She gestured at the rest of the bakery outside the kitchen doors. “And that this got complicated too.”

“Jam-covered complications were exactly what we all needed today.”

Celia laughed. “I’m glad we could help, then. We’re going to be family soon. That’s what family does.”

Helena hung her head, chuckling too, though there was a sadness in it that made Celia’s chest ache. “Give us some time to get used to it.”

“You’ve got three weeks.”

Helena’s laugh that followed was lighter, and the tightness in Celia’s chest eased with it. Helena straightened and pushed off the table. “I meant to tell you, good job on the car.”

“Working on a car”—she wiggled her fingers—“felt good. Chris and I haven’t done that together in a long time. I’m glad I could help.”

Helena stepped forward and caught her fingers. “Thank you. I just wish—” In a rare moment of hesitation and second-guessing, Helena cut herself off and began to move back.

Celia curled her fingers around Helena’s and held her close. “I get that there are lines, Helena, but—”

“Anywhere close to us is dangerous, Cee. I’m dangerous.”

“I know, you told me as much last night.” She stepped closer. “But your brother is marrying mine in three weeks, and your family is sitting in my family’s bakery, covered in jelly and frosting. I think we’re past that.”

Helena’s answering laugh was different than the previous two, and one Celia didn’t think she’d ever heard from her. Soft, genuine, and a tad shy. She was surprised Helena had a shy bone in her body. “I like hearing you laugh.”

Blue eyes peeked through burnished-gold lashes. “I like you.”

Celia laced their fingers together more tightly. “Did you really tell someone you were off the market?”

Helena’s wide-eyed gaze lifted the rest of the way. “You heard that?”

“No, Holt had on his headphones.” She smiled. “He told me after.”

“Fuck.” More of that quiet soft laughter as Helena rested her forehead on Celia’s shoulder. “They’re ganging up on me now.”

The sound and warmth, the intimate closeness of the touch, made Celia’s stomach flip. “I like you too, Helena.” She angled her face, feeling the strands of soft gold on her cheek and inhaling lavender-scented shampoo. “But full disclosure, I don’t know what I’m doing here. Dex is the only…”

Helena drew back far enough to meet her gaze, and the rosy blush on her cheeks, highlighting her faint freckles, was another softness Celia had never imagined on such a sharp woman. “Doesn’t matter how many or what gender when you like someone,” Helena said. “And they like you back.”

That was all the invitation, all the confirmation, all the borrowed confidence Celia needed to erase the distance between them. Mouth angled over Helena’s, she moved her lips against Helena’s slightly chapped ones, the soft and rough dichotomy the epitome of the woman she was kissing. Same as the cozy hoodie that covered hard muscle where Celia’s hand landed on her hip, same as the sharp cheekbone under smooth skin where Celia’s other hand cupped Helena’s cheek. And as Celia teased open Helena’s lips and dove inside, her taste was no different. Sharp, rich espresso contrasted with the sweetness of jam and frosting. Contradictions Celia could happily taste and touch all day. Could drown in as a whimper rolled up Helena’s throat and escaped her lips, ghosting over Celia’s tongue.

“Ma!” Mia shouted. “You get lost in there?”

Startled apart, Helena dropped her forehead on Celia’s shoulder again and her body shook with gentle laughter.

“How do I tell them apart?” Celia called back. “Are there labels?”

“On the bottom.”

“Got it. Be out in a few.”

She nosed Helena’s temple. “Who puts labels on the bottom?”

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