Page 19

“Are you okay, darling?” Charlotte asked from behind her, her voice that slightly slow, sleepy timber, her Southern accent more pronounced.

Sutton loved that. She always had.

Her heart fluttered with it, which she did her valiant best to ignore, as she turned to look at Charlotte.

Charlotte was propped up on her elbow, dark hair cascading down to Sutton’s pillow, arching a questioning eyebrow at Sutton, even as she still had a crease from the pillow on her cheek.

She looked unquestionably cute, and Sutton couldn’t help but smile at her in spite of the text. “Good morning. I’m sorry—did I wake you?”

Charlotte shook her head. “No. I just woke up, but I could feel that you’re… tense,” she settled on, frowning at the word as she lightly stroked her hand, where it lay on Sutton’s hip.

She hadn’t realized quite how tense she was, but Charlotte wasn’t wrong. She deliberately took in a deep breath, holding it before blowing it out and settling down into the bed.

The tension admittedly was still present, but it felt slightly better, snug in her bed with Charlotte’s attentive, concerned eyes on her.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” Charlotte asked, her gaze flicking to Sutton’s phone, which was still clutched in her hand.

Sutton knew she should say no. She knew that she shouldn’t open herself up like this to Charlotte. She knew she should keep these parts of herself separate. She knew she was only making things more difficult in the long run if she didn’t.

But it was Christmas morning. And she didn’t have her daughter. And she had Charlotte in her bed. And Charlotte had shared herself with Sutton, emotionally and physically, in the last twelve hours in ways Sutton could have never dreamed of. In ways that she shouldn’t dream of.

But the words escaped her because she just wanted it to all be simple. To be easy . Maybe she could let it be easy, just for now. “It’s Layla.” She closed her eyes and brought her free hand up to rub over her face.

“What about her?” Charlotte asked, and Sutton could hear in her voice how much she wanted to know but how cautious she was in asking.

Sutton simply didn’t have it in her to hold it in. Not when Charlotte felt so good next to her and sounded so coaxing, like she truly wanted to know.

“Last night, when we went into the kitchen while you sat with Lucy…” Sutton blew out a sigh, dropping her hand from her face as she stared up into Charlotte’s eyes. “She is not happy about… this.” She gestured between the two of them.

“I gathered that,” Charlotte murmured. Of course she had. That didn’t surprise Sutton in the least. Still, she looked apologetic as she searched Sutton’s gaze with her own. “I didn’t tell her about us. But…”

Sutton shook her head against the pillow. “No. But you were here. On Christmas Eve, to make sure I wasn’t lonely.” She offered Charlotte a small, tentative, emotional smile.

Because god , it was so thoughtful. It was just like Charlotte Thompson, wasn’t it? To make Sutton feel this way, even when Sutton was trying not to? It was just like Charlotte Thompson to make everything in her life so much harder while simultaneously making her feel so damn good. It was just like Charlotte Thompson to be so incredibly, ridiculously romantic, even without trying.

She swallowed hard, pursing her lips.

“ You aren’t the problem, when it comes to Layla.” Maybe in so many other ways that Sutton was careening toward but desperately trying not to, but not in the minefield that was Sutton’s relationship with her ex-wife.

“What did she say?” Charlotte prompted again, and there was a sharpness in her voice, reflecting in the honey-gold brightness of her eyes. Something a little dangerous, like protectiveness. Like, if Charlotte didn’t like you, she would know just who to call to bury the body.

Alarmingly, Sutton thought, she truly might.

Sutton tried not to think too much about that fact or the fact that Charlotte was seeming so protective over her .

“She’s mad,” she said simply. “That she didn’t know about us beforehand. That you know Lucy.” She let out a scoffing, mirthless laugh, all of those negative, terrible feelings that made her feel sick pulling together in the pit of her stomach. “Mad, I think, that you’re you .”

Charlotte’s expression was so tight, so pinched. Like she really was contemplating Layla’s execution, as she nodded. “Mmhmm. Exactly the impression I got.”

“And I just— you are none of her business. What we do is none of her concern! Did she talk to me before she started dating Arianne? While we were married ?” The words—the same ones she’d fired back at Layla last night—escaped her, still as fiery as they did the first time.

But it felt good to say them to Charlotte. It felt good to say them to someone, she wildly, insanely thought, who understood her. Someone who was clearly on her side.

Not that Regan wasn’t or Emma or her mother or the rest of her family.

But it felt good to say these things, her feelings and thoughts, to Charlotte , who narrowed her eyes to little slits as she bit at her cheek as if she were biting back harsh, extreme expletives.

She didn’t say the rest of what she’d said to Layla. That Lucy had met Charlotte before she and Sutton had started this… arrangement. That Charlotte was a trusted and safe person to be around their daughter. That, to Lucy, Charlotte was one of Sutton’s friends and someone she was working with. That Lucy had no idea about Sutton and Charlotte’s sexual relationship, because why would she ?

Back in the kitchen last night, she’d quietly snapped, “And all of that? That’s the only thing you have the right to comment on when it comes to my relationships. What pertains to Lucy is something you and I can talk about. Beyond that? I do not want to hear it.”

“And you don’t think it pertains to Lucy that you’re in bed with a senator? With someone who is on track to be the fucking president ?!” Layla had crossed her arms, scoffing. “You don’t think that is something I have the right to comment on?”

“What did she have to say to that?” Charlotte softly asked after clearly breathing through some of her anger.

“She…” Sutton rolled her eyes, even as the thought of the next words forced her nerves to leap into action. “She threatened to bring up our custody arrangement.”

She’d seen red at that.

Just, it appeared, as Charlotte did. Her eyes widened, her mouth fell open, and her fingers twitched against Sutton’s hip as if they were ready to reach for her phone. “Darling, I can make a simple phone call, and truly… Layla will never get her day in court.”

The threat was not a joke in the slightest. Sutton could feel how very serious Charlotte was, and she didn’t know what it said about her that she found it equal parts amusing, thrilling, and endearing.

But Charlotte’s response calmed Sutton’s, and she reached down, smoothing her hand over Charlotte’s. Intertwining their fingers so easily, she shook her head. “No, that’s… it’s not a real threat.” The words were a reassurance for both Charlotte and herself. “Layla can hardly manage the custody arrangement we currently have, even between her and Arianne, and we both know it.”

There were many days, Christmas Eve itself being the latest instance, in which Layla was late to picking up Lucy or had to postpone due to work.

It was an empty threat and they’d both known it, but it was something Layla had never once said before, which showed exactly how rattled she was by the whole situation.

“It was just… not a nice message to wake up to,” Sutton summed up.

Charlotte’s fingers flexed around hers, holding tighter, as she asked, “Have you watched the videos she sent? With Lucy?” She nodded toward Sutton’s unlocked phone, where the video thumbnails were still on the screen.

“Not yet,” she admitted.

“Do you want to?” Charlotte prompted, so softly. Like she was trying to cheer Sutton up, to comfort her.

It was damningly sweet. Sutton nodded before she bit her lip and cast a look at Charlotte. “You… don’t have to watch, if you’d prefer to get a coffee or anything else.”

Charlotte shot her a truly incredulous look. “I hope you’re kidding. Play the videos, please.”

So she did.

She lost herself in several glorious minutes of watching Lucy open her gifts at Layla and Arianne’s, her sullen pouts from yesterday forgotten as she exclaimed with joy over her gifts, then presented her own gifts to Layla and Arianne.

It worked very well to rinse the residual bad taste out of Sutton’s mouth, and she turned to look at Charlotte, who had a cute, soft smile on her face. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For the guitar; Lucy was so happy.” She pointed at the last video they’d watched. “She has it right there. She wouldn’t let it go.”

And the guitar was there, present, among even all of the new gifts she had just opened.

Charlotte turned to look right back at her, smiling indulgently. “It was very worth calling in the minor favor.”

She was close enough to see the flecks of gold in Charlotte’s eyes. Close enough to feel Charlotte’s warm breath blow over her lips. Close enough to fall right in at the thought of what they were doing: lying in bed on Christmas morning, watching videos of Sutton’s daughter, while Charlotte looked as enamored as Sutton felt.

Both of those flutters that Charlotte brought out in her kicked up, both the good, deep, warm one and the discomforting one. Both feelings Charlotte inspired in her were now both uncontrollable. Her heart started beating faster with the way Charlotte just looked at her.

She breathed through the way her heart pounded and her stomach fluttered and forced herself to blink and look away.

“Um. I have a gift for you, speaking of gifts,” Sutton murmured, unable to speak as if this morning wasn’t affecting her in some way. She held her phone up and shook it a little, bringing them back to the videos they’d just watched as a reminder that they still needed to open their own presents. “If you’d like to open it before I have to get ready?”

Even giving Charlotte the option of opening her gift, though, sent Sutton’s nerves buzzing.

Charlotte’s eyebrows lifted with obvious interest. “I would love it. I…” Her soft smile dipped, right into her own obvious bout of nerves, as she offered, “I have my gift, for you as well.”

They sat on the couch, re-dressed in Christmas pajamas with mugs of coffee in hand, twenty minutes later.

Sutton’s nerves spiked even harder as she flattened her hands over the small gift on her lap. It was adorned with the same cartoon animals playing in the snow that she’d wrapped Lucy’s in, and in the moment, she felt a little embarrassed by that.

She gripped her fingers around the edges of the rectangle, breathing out a small, uneasy laugh as she cleared her throat and pressed her gift toward Charlotte. Better to just do it.

“It’s—it’s nothing much,” she managed to say, even as her nerves grew stronger.

Charlotte aimed an incredulous look at her, her fingers wrapping around Sutton’s gift as she tugged it from Sutton’s grasp. “ I will be the judge of that, thank you very much.”

Sutton nodded, tangling her own fingers together to give herself something to do as she nodded at the wrapping paper. “And the wrapping, well, I didn’t really have anything sourced for adults.”

The look Charlotte gave her was sheer amusement, pure warmth, as she slid her fingernail under the tape. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She paused then, the amusement fading from her expression as she admitted quietly, “I’ve never…” She cleared her throat. “I don’t recall the last time I opened gifts in pajamas, next to a Christmas tree. This is—it’s already very special to me.”

The sincerity in her voice pulled Sutton right in; it made that place inside of Sutton, the one that Charlotte had cracked into last night, spill out.

It pushed her right out of her own insecurities as she gestured for Charlotte to open the gift. “Well… okay, then. I hope you like it.”

The cute, small smile that tugged up Charlotte’s lips as she focused on slowly opening the gift made Sutton uncontrollably smile as well. She was so cute . So ridiculously sweet and open and adorable and pulling Sutton in, and…

Charlotte’s mouth dropped open as she pulled out the printed pages Sutton had wrapped, genuine surprise splashing over her face as she scanned the title page Sutton had created.

Sutton’s own nerves didn’t stop their increasingly fast fluttering, not even when Charlotte flicked her gaze to Sutton’s, her excitement clear.

“Is this what I think it is?” she asked, her perfect hand splaying over the title page.

Sutton swallowed hard as she nodded. She found herself grinning, feeling unbearably shy, as she softly explained, “Yes, it’s… it’s my manuscript. The one we talked about, a few weeks ago. For my romance novel.”

It was something she’d worked on, played around with, and ultimately shelved a while back. She had so many other things going on—with Lucy and work and the work to get the Zones set up as well as doubt around her own writing—that it had been easy to put it aside.

Charlotte’s eyes were wide and so deep, and the look she gave Sutton was so sweet , that Sutton couldn’t help the words that were falling out of her mouth. “I—I know it’s not—I just… I finished it,” she said, pressing her palms into her thighs as her knees sat flush against Charlotte’s. “I finished it after we talked about it.”

After Charlotte had looked at her so seriously, as she’d told Sutton that she would have loved to read it. That she thought Sutton should write, for herself. That she’d been surprised when she’d seen that Sutton hadn’t written any fictional novels, after looking her up.

“So I thought you might want to read it,” she finished quietly as she gestured to the manuscript. It was terrifying, to give her work to someone. “And I know you prefer to read in actual printed pages, so.”

Even when she sent her mom her work, she felt a kernel of nerves. This felt so much bigger than that. Charlotte’s opinion mattered to her—scarily so. In a big, demanding way, that Sutton tried not to think about.

Charlotte reached out and slid her hand over Sutton’s. “I love it.”

There was no doubting her emphatic tone. None.

It settled Sutton, her nerves fading as she melted into an easier smile.

“I also love that you could fuck me on this couch the way you did last night and still be so self-conscious this morning,” Charlotte whispered, arching an eyebrow at Sutton as the hand holding hers squeezed it.

Sutton felt herself blush even as she rolled her eyes. “Shut up. It’s… different,” she settled on, squeezing Charlotte’s hand back.

And it was.

But the feelings from last night and now from this morning were starting to meld together; that much was undeniable.

Charlotte leaned in and pressed a light, lingering kiss to the corner of Sutton’s lips. It was enough for her to feel the softness of her mouth before she drew back and reached down for the box she’d pulled from her bag.

Sutton swore she could see her recently forgotten nerves flash across Charlotte’s face.

She handed Sutton the gift before placing her own hands back over Sutton’s manuscript, clearly feeling her own sense of anticipation.

Which Sutton felt well up inside of her, too, intrigued as she was.

She opened the lid on the box, removing the tissue paper, which revealed—another box.

A jewelry box, and a decently sized one, at that.

Sutton traced her fingers over the soft, velvet exterior before she looked up at Charlotte in question.

“Merry Christmas,” Charlotte murmured as she nodded at Sutton, urging her, “Open it.”

Sutton frowned, though, glancing down at her manuscript. “That’s not worth anything.” She ran her fingers over the box in her lap again. “ This …”

She didn’t have to open it to know already that it would be expensive.

Charlotte wouldn’t give anyone—let alone Sutton, and she knew it—cheap jewelry.

But Charlotte’s gaze was insistent as she urged again, “Darling, please. What you gave me is one of a kind. Irreplaceable. There’s no monetary value on something like this.” There was such a passion in her words that it swept through Sutton, making her cheeks flush all over again.

She’d be delusional to believe that Charlotte couldn’t afford, well, any gift she’d purchased. She didn’t have the bad manners to reject something Charlotte obviously wanted to give her.

And, most of all, she wanted to know. She wanted it.

She didn’t want to want whatever Charlotte was offering, but she did .

With that, she held her breath and opened the cover of the jewelry box.

And her mouth fell open.

It was a necklace. A stunning necklace, with a delicate, white-gold chain, a large, teardrop sapphire at the center with small clusters of diamonds surrounding it as well as twists of diamonds glinting along the chain. And because Sutton knew Charlotte as well as she did, she knew very well that every stone was high-quality.

“Charlotte,” she breathed out. It was all she could say as she ran her fingers lightly—so lightly—over the necklace.

It had been so long since someone had given her something like this. Layla, when they’d been married, had gifted her with jewelry, sparingly but occasionally. Even then, it had never been something like this .

Something so very aligned with Sutton’s taste, something so exquisite, something so exorbitant. Something so clearly with the intention of being for her, as a woman. Not “a mother,” not “a daughter,” not “a sister,” not “a best friend,” but a wanted, special, desirable person.

“I can’t,” she managed to whisper, shaking her head.

Charlotte seemed to anticipate that, though; she firmly nodded, resting her hand comfortingly on Sutton’s thigh. “You can . And I want you to have it. So very much.”

The words escaped Sutton then as she looked back down.

It was so incredibly beautiful, and it tugged at something in Sutton’s mind, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Only as she landed the tip of her index finger against the sapphire stone did it hit her.

Charlotte. Christmas. Expensive, exorbitant gifts.

“The earrings.” The words fell from her lips on a gasp as she blinked down at the necklace, looking at it closer.

Yes. The hue of the stone, the twist with the diamonds, the entire design , right down to the subtle and delicate statement of beauty. It perfectly matched the earrings Charlotte had given her the first time they’d been in each other’s lives.

“It matches the earrings you gave me,” she murmured, confused and surprised and—was it a coincidence? “Thirteen years ago.”

Charlotte’s cheeks looked the slightest bit pink, she saw, as she dug her teeth into her bottom lip. “It does,” she affirmed. Certain but soft. She seemed even more nervous as she swallowed visibly. “They were a set. I bought them as a set,” she explained, her searching gaze on Sutton’s.

Floored didn’t begin to describe the emotion rushing through Sutton, as the blood pounded in her ears.

“It’s okay if you don’t still have them,” Charlotte murmured, squeezing Sutton’s thigh again. Reassuring.

But Sutton did still have them. She did.

She hadn’t worn them again after Charlotte had broken up with her. It felt too big, too hard, too painful, too stupid, too… everything.

But she’d never , not in all of the times she’d culled and cultivated her jewelry collection, been able to get rid of the beautiful sapphire earrings. They perfectly matched her eyes, just like the necklace now did. She’d never been able to forget the way Charlotte had said those words when she’d given the gift to Sutton or the way she’d felt.

So seen. So appreciated.

She understood why she had those earrings.

But what she couldn’t understand was?—

“You kept this? For thirteen years?” She breathed the question out, as the backs of her eyes stung with tears, her throat feeling tight.

Charlotte nodded, rolling her lips, before she said, “It never felt right to get rid of it. They were a set. For you.”

Charlotte had held on to this necklace for over a decade. For Sutton . She’d held on to her for over a decade, and Sutton closed her eyes so tightly at the thoughts, at the feelings that bubbled up. At the intent, wanting expression on Charlotte’s face, the beautiful sincerity in her luminous eyes.

She closed her eyes, so tightly, against the tears that she didn’t want to leak out.

“Sutton?” Charlotte asked, clearly concerned, as she shifted closer.

But Sutton only shook her head, bringing her hand up over her mouth as the other wrapped around her stomach.

“You make it so hard ,” she pushed out, her voice thick, as she blinked open her eyes. “So hard,” she repeated. “You’re so… perfect.”

Charlotte’s tentative smile at her words didn’t reflect at all how Sutton was feeling.

Charlotte was so perfect, she made it far too hard for Sutton to pretend like she had any semblance of control. She made it hard for Sutton to go about their relationship like there was any way of getting out of this unscathed.

She made it so very, very hard for Sutton to not fall in love with her all over again.