Page 84 of A Break in Communications

Mostly because neither Lucy nor I wanted the experience of having to pry her away from the hospital wanting the hot young nurse to read to her.

But all of my thoughts about Granny Charlotte disappeared like snow on a hot engine when I saw the passenger door open on the car and Lucy stepped out, frustratingly flawless in her long coat, blonde curls lightly pinned back and soft, black-on-gold outfit making her look chic and understatedly sexy, and—was it really too much to hope for, just once, being able to outdress her? Every time I tried, she’d step out of the bathroom after me looking likethat, and I’d fume a little. Even here, half an hour later, once we’d headed out to pick up her grandmother and get to the function, I was still absolutely livid with rage.

Of course, I got to kiss her, so that took the sting out of defeat. And I’d get her next time. Naturally.

“Masters,” I said, stepping up and pressing a quick kiss to her cheek, warm against the early-morning December cold that prickled in my nostrils. “Your grandmother says hello and that she’s happy to see us and grateful for the help getting there.”

Lucy beamed, catching me with a hand on my hip. “Ah. Turned a new leaf today, have we, Grandma?”

Charlotte muttered something. Lucy nodded, turning back to me with a sweet smile.

“So, did she insult you? Because I’m adding one day to the tally until I next make her caramel brownies each time she insults you.”

“She called me a no-good wife, but I have failed to marry you yet, so I suppose it does make me no good at being a wife. Does that count?”

Lucy laughed. “Darling, anything other than singing your undying praise in all things counts as an insult in my eyes. That’s… what, seventy-five days now, Grandma?”

“You can’t hold me hostage anymore,” Charlotte said. “I’m getting cinnamon rolls today. I don’t need your caramel brownies.”

“And if we start telling Maria how you’re insulting her daughter?”

Charlotte hunched her shoulders. “Er… ahem. Well. I must not have spoken loudly enough for you to hear, Anna, but you look beautiful today.”

“Doesn’t she, though?” Lucy said, holding the door open for me. I laughed, giving her a little shove on the shoulder.

“Don’t think about it, passenger princess,” I said. “You get in.”

“You drove us here! I’m not budging.”

I kissed her—pressed my lips to hers, falling against hers, my hands on her hips, and she softened with a happy little murmur, enough that she put her guard down by enough that when I pushed, she fumbled off balance, and she fell into the car, landing in the seat and pulling back from the kiss to give me a scandalized look. “Anna Preston,” she said. “Are you serious right now?”

“Mm. You can try to one-up me next time, sweetheart. Now be comfortable. You look cute in my passenger seat.” I kissed her again before I shut the door, turning to Charlotte and opening the back door for her chair. She scoffed.

“Ugh, you two make me sick.”

“I’ll tell Lucy you said that.”

She looked away. “Sick… with… delight. What a charming young couple.”

“Mm-hm. I figured you meant that.” I helped her up into the back, affixing her chair into the car, before I got into the driver’s seat and took off, giving the aux cord to Lucy to play her music. Of course, she went playing the soft, relaxing Christmas jazz that she and Charlotte listened to every year since Lucy was a kid, and that she’d won me over on with very, very little effort. Turned out I was a sucker for anything Lucy Masters. The music felt like cozy evenings with the woman who had permanent residence in my heart, and I’d even gotten suckered in enough that I listened to it when it was just me too.

Not that I’d admit that to Lucy.

We chattered and laughed, arguing back and forth with Charlotte the whole time, until we pulled up to the oversized house where we could already hear the music blaring from inside, and Charlotte muttered some choice words aboutturning that damn noise downthat was probably only going to earn her some good-natured laughs once we got inside. I parked the car, and Lucy and I both unbuckled at the same instant, reaching over and catching each other by the thigh at the same time.

“Don’t you dare—” I started at the same time she said,

“You stay right there—”

“I’m getting the door for you,” I said.

“You are absolutely not,” she said.

“I’m—”

She kissed me, sweeping across the center console and capturing me in a soft, sweet kiss, lips warm against mine, and I let myself have it for a second—caught off-guard enough by the suddenness of it that I stopped there, murmuring against her lips as she slipped a hand up my arm, fingertips trailing lightly, and—she grabbed my seatbelt and buckled me in again.

“Hey—” I fumbled with it, and she broke out laughing, throwing her door open and stepping out. “Lucy Masters!” I called, unbuckling my seatbelt and shutting off the car, going for the door, but it had bought enough time that she got to the door before me, pulling it open and offering a hand.

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