“I wrote my letter to Santa months ago. I asked for sex— from a hot guy, not from Santa—and he delivered. And there is no point in me writing again because since I wrote my last letter I’ve been a bad, bad girl.” She leaned forward and kissed him. “What does Santa do to very bad girls?”
“I don’t know, but I can tell you what I do with very bad girls.” He stood up and pulled her against him.
She curled her fingers into his shirt, determined to say what had been on her mind all day. “Lucas?”
“What?”
“I’ve been thinking about what you said.”
His mouth hovered close to hers. “What did I say?”
“That I should go to the assisted living community and that you’d come with me. Did you mean it?” He eased away.
“Of course I meant it.”
“Sometimes people say things they don’t mean. And this is a pretty big deal. You’d be giving up a whole afternoon and I know you’re busy and it’s important you get your book done.”
“This is more important.” He threaded his fingers through hers. “You’d like to go?”
“Yes, although part of me is scared I’ll make a fool of myself. I haven’t been back there since I lost Grams. What if I start howling?”
“Then I’ll sing loudly to cover the noise. Christmas carols.”
“You hate festive music.” She smiled, wondering how he always managed to make her feel better. “Be serious.”
“I am being serious.” He squeezed her hand. “No one is going to judge you, Ev. If you cry, you cry. I hope you don’t because I don’t like seeing you upset, but no one will blame you. And if it feels like too much and you need to leave, then we’ll make some excuse. Leave it with me. You’re talking to the guy who is an expert at avoiding social events.”
“But you’re willing to do this for me.” She stared down at their linked hands, suddenly choked by emotion. “Why?”
“Because I’m hoping you’ll be grateful and have sex with me.”
“Not an answer.”
“Because I know how hard it is.” He lifted her hand to his lips. “And because I care about you.”
“You’ll end up signing books.”
“I can live with that.”
Seventeen
Love your life, it’s the only one you have.
—Eva
Annie Cooper had been in charge of the assisted living community since she’d left her job at one of the city’s busiest hospitals. Lucas had no problem imagining her running a department with brisk, kindly efficiency.
She embraced Eva warmly. “We missed you, honey.”
“I missed you all, too. How is your son?”
It was typical, Lucas thought, that the first words Eva spoke were asking after someone else. She was always more concerned about others than she was about herself.
“He’s doing well, thank you for asking. And from what I hear, you’ve been busy, too. I read about Urban Genie.”
“I should have visited sooner—”
“You had other priorities, and that’s as it should be. Such an exciting time for you. We all watch your YouTube videos. We particularly love your date, almond and oat bars. Your Grams would have been so proud to see you doing so well.” Annie shook hands with Lucas. “Eva told me you’d be joining us, Mr. Blade. Everyone is excited. It’s not every day we have a famous author visit. I hope you can cope with rabid fans. We have all your books in our library. Would you mind signing a few?”