Sweet Hearts Read online

  “Next time?” Lucy asked.

  “Yeah, I mean, if there is one then—”

  “There will be.”

  Kristin wasn’t sure exactly what was bubbling between them, but whatever it was had her complete and undivided attention. The give and take, the challenges and yields all kept Kristin on her toes, and she loved that.

  They walked together to the parking lot and Lucy followed Kristin to her rental car. She’d had her own car towed and would pick it up the following week, once the obscure part it needed arrived at the garage.

  “Just want to make sure it starts,” Lucy said, smiling from a few feet away. She was partially illuminated by the glow of a nearby street lamp and looking more beautiful than Kristin had ever seen her.

  “And if it doesn’t?”

  “Then I suppose I’ll have to rescue you again. Can you believe that?”

  “Two rescues? That’s a lot.”

  Lucy shrugged. “Guess I’m just that kind of girl.”

  Kristin shook her head in wonder. She’d had a fantastic time that night. Probably the best since she’d moved to San Diego. Whether it was the wine or the ups and downs of the conversation, she didn’t know, but in that moment, she found herself overwhelmingly attracted to Lucy Danaher. The kind of attraction that made her mouth go dry and her stomach flutter and more than anything she wanted to act on it. “I’ve never met anyone like you, you know that?”

  “I can safely say the same to you,” Lucy said, meeting her gaze. Her eyes shone brightly, the blue more deep and intense now. Resisting the pull for reasons she’d examine later, Kristin started her car successfully and Lucy held up a hand in farewell. “Until next time, Ms. James. I had fun with you tonight.”

  “Me too,” Kristin said. “Good night.” She offered Lucy a last smile before closing the door and pulling away. Alone in her car, she admitted to herself how desperately she’d wanted to kiss Lucy in that parking lot. Just close the distance between them and do it. The thought alone sent a delicious shiver through her body. But that’s when reality flashed. She shouldn’t make out with one of her sources. Journalism 101.

  But how long had it been since anyone had sparked that kind of reaction in her? She closed her eyes at the red light and took a deep breath. It was probably for the best.

  It turned out she was excellent at self-delusion.

  Chapter Three

  Sarah Matamoros presented Lucy with an oversized cup of coffee that Saturday and sat across from her on the back deck with a cup of her own. “You look thoughtful,” Sarah said, studying her.

  “Nah, just in one of those moods.” Sarah had left her jet-black hair down that day, which allowed it to blow easily with the wind off the nearby water. Lucy sipped from her cup as she watched the waves roll in. The coffee was strong, the way she liked it, and she closed her eyes as it warmed her from the inside. Emory had taken Grace to a movie that afternoon, so she’d stopped by to hang out with Sarah. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course,” Sarah said. “And you don’t need permission first, Luce.” Lucy smiled at her. Though Lucy had started out as Emory’s friend, she and Sarah had discovered a friendship of their own not long after Sarah and Grace had moved in with Emory. The fact that Lucy’s own house was only a five-minute walk down the beach made popping over to their place not only easy, but a frequent occurrence. Over time, it had become clear to Lucy that she really liked Sarah, who was kind, funny, and a wonderful partner to her best friend. In fact, when she thought about the kind of life she wanted for herself one day, Emory and Sarah were the first couple that sprang to mind. They were lucky.

  Lucy turned to Sarah. “What did you think of Emory the first time you met her?” Sarah laughed out loud at the question. “What? What’s so funny?”

  “Well, it wasn’t good,” Sarah said.

  “Really?” Lucy sat up a little taller in her chair, anxious to hear the rest. Sarah had been hired to organize Emory’s mother’s house after she’d passed away suddenly from a stroke, and from what Lucy knew, they’d fallen for each other rather quickly.

  “Really,” Sarah said. “I thought she was cold, stuck-up, and bossy.”

  Lucy scrunched one eye. “Well, she can be a little bossy. She has control issues. Well, she did until she met you.”

  Sarah smiled. “I remember sitting on her mother’s back patio with her one night and just being struck by how beyond beautiful she was and then thinking it was a shame she wasn’t a nicer person.”

  Now Lucy was the one laughing. “Why am I just now hearing about this? This is good stuff.”

  “You never asked.”

  “Huge mistake. When did it change?”

  “Well, after that, she started to let me in a little at a time, and I got to know her. The actual her. It turns out, she wasn’t cold and aloof at all. In fact, she was probably the most awesome person I’d ever met.”

  “Who’s the most awesome person you’ve ever met?” Emory asked, joining them on the deck.

  “Some blond woman I live with,” Sarah said with a dismissive wave and turned her head upward to Emory for a kiss she was promptly granted. “You’re back. How was the movie?”

  “Devastating,” Emory said. “I feel like my heart’s been ripped out and stomped on. Why does she love these sad teenage movies?”

  “Because she thrives on overblown emotion in narratives,” Sarah explained calmly.

  “I get that, but she’s putting on beachwear right now to head down the shore with Walter and I’m going to sit here and contemplate my mortality for a few hundred hours.”

  “Now who’s being dramatic?” Lucy asked.

  Emory pointed at Lucy. “Valid point. It’s clear to me that I spend way too much time with you and Grace. You’re rubbing off.”

  “Finally,” Lucy said, raising her fist in victory.

  The dog door swished and Walter, the friendliest chocolate retriever that ever lived, appeared and came promptly to Lucy, wagging his tail and waiting patiently for the appropriate attention.

  “There’s my guy,” Lucy said and dipped her face to Walter, who immediately covered her cheek in doggy kisses. She looked up at Emory. “I was talking to Bernadette Peters and we were thinking that Walter could come live with us now.”

  “BP did not say that,” Sarah countered. “She tolerates Walter at best. Though I suspect it’s just an act. I’ve seen the way she prances around, that little tongue peeking out of her mouth all the time. She plays hard to get, that one. A trollop.”

  “It’s true,” Lucy mused, smiling. “I taught her everything I know.”

  “Lucy!” Grace practically shouted as she emerged from the house. “We just saw the most awesome movie about this girl with cancer and then she meets this boy with cancer and then it gets so sad you wouldn’t even believe it.”

  “I don’t know how you bounce back from that so easily,” Lucy said.

  “It’s just make believe, but I love it. I might need to write a book this summer. I like how they affect people.”

  “I have all the confidence in you,” Lucy said sincerely.

  Ten-year-old Grace was the spitting image of her mother, about as precocious as a child could be, and just as quirky too. Lucy was one of Grace’s regular babysitters and the two of them had racked up a number of adventures together. Space-themed manicures, forts in the living room, and fashion shows starring none other than Walter himself. She never really knew what to do with kids before Grace, but she enjoyed this particular kid, which said a lot.

  Grace headed back inside. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Freeze, monster,” Sarah said. “You’re up to something. I can tell. You’ve got that Grace-on-a-mission face.”

  Grace’s facial expression switched to instant innocence. “I’m just going to grab the Saran Wrap.”

  Sarah studied her, as if trying to piece it together. “What do you want Saran Wrap for?”

  Grace blinked back at her. “To make Walter a bathing su
it.”

  “Walter doesn’t need a bathing suit,” Emory said gently. “He loves the water.”

  “He probably wants one though. Lucy and I always dress him up when you guys go out.” As if on cue, Walter passed Lucy an apologetic look. The looks Sarah and Emory passed her were more of the question-mark variety.

  In response, she held her thumb and forefinger very close together. “I mean, sometimes,” she told them. “Just when he’s feeling jaunty.”

  “Interesting confession,” Emory said, eyeing her, and then turned back to Grace. “I vote for swimming sans Saran Wrap.”

  “Me too,” Sarah said. “And we’re the parents so we win.” Grace sighed audibly in response.

  “Come on,” Emory said. “I’ve got my suit on and I’ll go in with you guys.” With that she unbuttoned her white cotton shirt and revealed the blue bikini top beneath. Sarah’s eyes did a quick and appreciative sweep across Emory’s body, much to Lucy’s amusement. At the knowing grin from Lucy, she blushed.

  “Caught,” Lucy mouthed to her. Sarah offered up a guilty shrug in response.

  “You guys want to join us?” Emory asked. It was only May and she already sported a tan, a perk of living on the beach. If Lucy weren’t averse to outdoor exertion, she might actually have one herself.

  “I think Lucy and I will stay here,” Sarah said. “Continue our chat.”

  They watched as Emory, Grace, and Walter made their way from the beach house down to the shoreline in a picturesque little line reminiscent of a Norman Rockwell painting.

  “So who’s the girl?” Sarah asked pointedly, once they were alone.

  “There’s not a girl. Why do you think that?”

  “You’re a big liar, I’m thinking, because there is too. You’re suddenly interested in talking about relationships and you have this faraway, preoccupied thing happening, which makes me feel quite strongly that there’s a girl.”

  Lucy sat back in her chair in defeat. “There’s a girl. At least, I think there is.”

  “See? I’m all knowing. You guys should just accept this. Who is she?”

  “She’s this reporter who’s planning to include GNW in a news story she’s writing about truth and its place in our culture. She’s going to use me as an example of how the public can be easily misled by an irresponsible news agency.”

  “I see why you like her,” Sarah deadpanned.

  Lucy sat forward, feeling the need to defend Kristin. “I realize that sounds bad, and to be honest, it is. I hate that she’s writing this story, but we’ve spent some time together and there’s just something about her that has me…I don’t know. Captivated.”

  Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Captivated is a pretty telling word.”

  “Isn’t it? And it’s like when I’m with her, I want to shake her one minute, and make out with her the next. Is that normal?”

  “It’s hot is what it is,” Sarah said, her eyes dancing. “Sounds like you guys have some fiery chemistry.”

  Lucy nodded. “Chemistry. I think that’s what it is. There’s this off-the-charts chemistry happening that has me forgetting to breathe sometimes, and I’ve never really been susceptible to that kind of thing before, you know? Where it’s like the allure is in charge and just pulling me along for the ride. There I’ll be, staring into her ridiculous green eyes and wondering what it would be like to kiss her because she’s smart and beautiful and so over-the-top frustrating, which I think seems to be part of it. The frustrating.”

  “Oh, I’d say it’s definitely part of it. Look how worked up you’re getting.”

  “And I don’t do that, right? At least about women.”

  “I’ve never seen it.”

  “Because it doesn’t happen. And now you’re smiling. Why are you smiling, Sarah?”

  “Because I love how clearly out of sorts you are right now. It’s awesome.”

  Lucy shook her head. “I’m not so sure it is.”

  “Even better. Because I’ll tell you the last time I felt that out of sorts.”

  “When was that?”

  Sarah smiled knowingly. “When I met Emory.”

  *

  Kristin should just go home. Inherently, she knew she should. It had been a whirlwind of a Friday and she could use the alone time to decompress, watch a movie, or just veg on the couch.

  But the exit off the highway that would take her to the Lavender Room was just ahead and tempting her in a big way. Unfortunately, Friday night meant it would be a lot more crowded and the chances that she’d run into Lucy again were also slim. She was probably out with friends having a fabulous time.

  Or maybe even on a date.

  She shoved that thought aside as it didn’t sit well.

  As Kristin neared the exit, the what-if section of her brain grew harder to ignore. Maybe she’d just drive by the place, see what might be going on. No biggie there. Drive-bys were totally noncommittal, breezy, even. Plus, the stakes were low. What was the harm?

  But when she arrived in the parking lot of the Lavender Room and saw the silver Aston Martin, the stakes shot up a whole hell of a lot. Not a ton of people drove cars like that. In fact, only one that she’d encountered. She checked her reflection in the mirror and applied a bit of strawberry lip gloss, hardly recognizing herself for caring so much about her appearance, apparently another new development.

  The place definitely came with a whole separate vibe on the weekend. First of all, there were lots of women. That was her first observation. And not club kids either; the crowd seemed to be more established, sets of friends meeting up, celebrating the end of the workweek over drinks. Next, she noticed the loud music and dancing in the room adjacent to the bar, making the place a lot more lively than usual.

  “Can I buy you a drink?” It took a moment for Kristin to register that the question had been aimed at her.

  “Sure,” she said, smiling at the woman. She had short hair, combed to the side, and kind eyes. “I’m Kristin.”

  “Barrett,” the woman said as they made their way to the bar. “What do you do, Kristin?”

  “I’m a journalist. What about you?”

  “I’m an attorney, actually.”

  Kristin ordered a white wine spritzer, in the mood for something a little more celebratory and fun. Barrett stuck with beer. She turned to her, now interested. “What kind of law?”

  “Environmental mostly.”

  “Really? I belong to an environmental action group that I joined when I moved here, Green Stuff. Have you heard of it?”

  “I have,” Barrett said. “You guys do great work.”

  “We’re currently planning a demonstration to draw awareness to the carbon emissions from the utility giant on Claussen Road.”

  Barrett smiled knowingly. “You mean Slater Energy. Yeah, they’re horrible. Shoot me the date and I’ll see if I can be there.”

  Kristin nodded, already excited, and accepted the business card Barrett handed her. “I will do that. We could use all the help we can get.”

  “I’m glad I met you,” Barrett said. “I have some friends over there. Care to join us?”

  “I’d love to meet your friends,” Kristin said. “I don’t know a ton of people in town.”

  “Well, I can help with that part.” She followed Barrett to a well-populated table and instantly recognized the blonde closest to them, though her mind searched for why. “Kristin, this is my friend Emory and her partner, Sarah.”

  The blonde turned and extended a hand. “Nice to meet you, Kristin,” Emory said. And then, “Have we met before?”

  “I’m not sure actually, but I wondered the same thing.” She went on to say hello to Sarah, who smiled warmly and took her hand.

  “And that over there is Mia,” Barrett said, “followed by Christi Ann and then Lucy.” Kristin made eye contact and waved hello to each new woman until her gaze landed on a pair of very familiar blue eyes. Lucy tilted her head to the side knowingly and smiled.

  “Lucy I’m familiar with,�
� she told Barrett.

  “You two know each other,” Barrett said, gesturing between them.

  “We do,” Lucy said. “She’s planning to malign me in the Union-Trib, but I’m working past it.”

  “She’s a bit of a handful,” Kristin told Barrett.

  “Then you’ve definitely met Lucy,” Barrett said.

  “So that’s where I’ve seen you,” Emory said, pointing at Kristin. “You’re the audacious reporter.”

  “And you’re her date from the other night,” Kristin said, pointing back at Emory.

  “Not a date,” Emory corrected, kissing Sarah’s hand. “But yes.”

  “Right. Of course,” Kristin said, bopping her head and motioning to Sarah. “But now I remember why you’re familiar.”

  Barrett found Kristin a chair and she joined their group, learning lots about the women. Emory was apparently the owner of GNW but took a backseat to let Lucy run the place while she pursued life as a painter. Mia and Christi Ann, while fun, didn’t seem to have a lot to contribute to the conversation but did offer a few snarky comments. Sarah, however, might have been her favorite. She seemed warm, thoughtful, and fun.

  “So what do you think of Lucy?” Sarah asked out of nowhere, as the rest of the table continued to debate whether Pilates was beneficial to one’s health or sent from Satan to torture humans.

  Kristin chose her words carefully. “I think she’s amusing, complex, and kinda stubborn.”

  “Oh, she is,” Sarah said. “Trust me. But Luce is good people. Don’t give up on her.” It was interesting advice and Kristin wondered what had prompted it. Had Lucy said something about her to Sarah? She stared across the table at Lucy, who was fully an advocate of the Satan theory.

  “I’m just saying that when you take exercise and add a hateful contraption, I’m out. It’s a method of torture, and I would much prefer to steam luxuriously in a sauna.” The comment conjured the image of Lucy in a towel, and Kristin swallowed against her body’s response. Lucy must have felt Kristin watching her, as she met her gaze and winked.