Page 25

CHAPTER TWENTY

Layla—9:53 a.m.

What time are we supposed to be at Lucy’s school by? The absolute latest?

The alarm bells had started ringing in Sutton’s ears before she’d even read Layla’s text, to be perfectly honest. Once she’d read the contents of the message, her concerns were simply confirmed.

Trying to take in a deep breath and rein in her agitation, she answered.

Sutton—9:54 a.m.

Supposed to arrive by noon. I suppose, if I go first, the latest you should arrive would be by one.

Even though she knew exactly what was coming, she tried. She really, really tried to give Layla the benefit of the doubt as she asked:

Why?

She set her phone down on the desk in her office, closing her eyes as she silently hoped that she was wrong about what was happening.

Layla—9:54 a.m.

That’s what I thought… I’m really sorry, but I actually won’t be able to make it.

She closed her eyes again, rubbing at her temples as her agitation tripled at the confirmation.

Since Lucy had resumed school after the holiday vacation ended a few weeks ago, every Friday for the remainder of the year was going to be Grown-Up Show-and-Tell. All of the parents and guardians in the class had been sent the info and sign-up sheet weeks ago. On Fridays after snack time, Lucy’s class was going to engage in real-world experience learning. This meant the parents, guardians, and trusted adults in their lives would come in and give an explanation of what they did for a job as well as engage the children in an activity involving their respective careers.

Other parents were encouraged to attend whenever they could as well. Sutton herself had only been able to shift her schedule around to attend twice, but it had been interesting. She’d learned all about the life of an investment banker, a nanny (indeed, it was Lucy’s classmates’ nanny, not one of her parents), and a mom-fluencer.

Sutton had coordinated her own presentation with Layla’s schedule, as Lucy had expressed a vehement wish for them both to participate.

And now…

All she could picture were Lucy’s big, blue eyes, downtrodden with certain, imminent disappointment.

Layla—9:55 a.m.

Really, I AM sorry. I wanted to be there. But I’m on call, and I need to scrub into an emergency surgery that’s en route right now.

She’d been with Layla long enough to know that scrubbing in on an emergency surgery—no matter what that surgery was—meant that everything for the next three to four hours was a complete wash. Any prior arrangements or plans had to be cancelled, no matter what they were. Birthdays, anniversaries, date nights, and—now—Lucy’s school events.

Sutton—9:55 a.m.

It’s not me you need to be apologizing to. I’m not the one who’s going to be devastated that you’re going to miss it.

Layla—9:56 a.m.

Well, Lucy is a little young for us to have given her a phone, so I can’t text her directly, can I?

Look, what do you want me to do? Not perform a surgery on this woman who was just in a horrific accident?

I’m not trying to fight. Sorry. Tell Luce I’m sorry, that I will make it up to her this weekend. OK?

Sutton didn’t bother to answer. Layla wasn’t really looking for her response, anyway, was she? She’d learned that a long time ago.

Blowing out an irritated breath, she started packing up her office, knowing she had to make it to her ten-fifteen class before immediately heading across the city to get to Lucy’s school on time.

As she exited her office, she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. For a flashing, furious moment, she imagined it was Layla, trying to get Sutton to absolve her of her guilt.

But the black cloud that had ominously settled over her dissipated as she saw Charlotte’s name on her screen.

“Well, hello,” she answered, wedging the phone between her ear and shoulder as she locked her office door behind her.

“Busy?” Charlotte asked, and Sutton could just picture her sitting in her office behind her big, powerful desk, leaning back in her chair like she didn’t have a care in the world.

Their meetings working on Charlotte’s novel had come to an end, so Sutton hadn’t found herself in that office in weeks, but… she found she missed it.

“You ask me that like you don’t know my class schedule,” she countered, already smiling.

“It’s just polite to check, darling.” Charlotte chuckled.

“Well, no. I’m not busy. And I very much appreciate you calling right now,” she admitted. As soon as the vulnerable words left her, she realized how easy it was to say things like that to Charlotte.

But sharing with Charlotte—being her true, most authentic self—was so alarmingly simple. It always had been.

And, as she’d realized since they’d started officially dating , it was so, so easy to find herself right back in that place. The place where she wanted to share with Charlotte and how easy it was to do when she wasn’t consciously holding back.

Charlotte hummed under her breath. “Why does that sound as though you’ve had a rough day and it’s not even noon?”

“Because I have,” she confessed. “I literally just heard from Layla that she’s not going to make it to Lucy’s show-and-tell this afternoon after all. And even though I knew something like this could happen, I just—” She broke off on a sharp, frustrated inhale. “I hoped it wouldn’t.”

“Ah. Does she have a semblance of a good excuse? I hope?” Charlotte ventured, and Sutton could hear the raw curiosity in her voice.

“She… does. As in, she is the surgeon on call right now, and she’s about to scrub in. It’s the same story it always is with her. Incredibly irritating, but almost more irritating because I know she’s truly saving a life. So I can’t really be mad at her, can I?” Sutton hadn’t known how easy it was to sum up the crux of how complicated her issues with Layla had been—pre-cheating, of course.

For a long time during their relationship, she’d tried very hard to bite back her own disappointment and frustration at Layla’s schedule because she didn’t want to be mad at Layla for having to scrub in. For doing something inherently good .

“I think you can,” Charlotte countered in that way she had that was both comfortingly coaxing but firm. “After all, she had her choice of days to pick for this, right? If my memory serves, you told her that you’d make any Friday she chose work for your schedule?”

“That’s right,” Sutton confirmed.

“Exactly. So perhaps she’s performing a surgery and not simply fucking around, but she very well could have chosen a day where she wasn’t the surgeon on call, no?” Charlotte reasoned. “And regardless of what Layla is doing, the person dealing with the immediate fallout is you.”

Sutton paused, mid-stride, as she took that in. “You’re exactly right.”

“I so often am,” Charlotte teased.

“I know,” she agreed, softly and entirely un-teasing.

It was amazing, but unsurprising, that Charlotte would be able to so easily understand exactly what Sutton was so frustrated by, even without Sutton being able to put it into words herself. Part of the Charlotte Thompson effect, really, was that she could suck Sutton right in and make her feel so heard. So understood.

“Anyway”—she cleared her throat, continuing her walk into the building that housed her lecture hall—“I don’t want to get too bogged down in my frustration with Layla, warranted or not. I’m heading to class, and then I have to do my show-and-tell, and I’d like to be in a good mood for it.” She hesitated, biting her lip before she admitted, “And, I suppose, it’s great that you called because hearing your voice is exactly what I needed right now.”

She could feel her cheeks heat ever so slightly with the admittance. She was still finding the right footing with this. With living in a world where being openly romantic with Charlotte was okay. Not only okay, but encouraged by Charlotte.

“Funny you say that,” Charlotte returned, and Sutton swore she could hear the smile on Charlotte’s face. “I feel the same way.”

And when Charlotte was the one making comments like that so freely? It was all Sutton could do to not beam so brightly she would alarm her students.

The only thing that felt more wild, more freeing, more incredible—in every definition—than being romantic with Charlotte without concern was having Charlotte be so openly romantic right back.

Statements like that had been so casually made, in the last couple of weeks. Ever since they’d started on this journey together. There were other things, too.

Like Charlotte sending her flowers a few afternoons ago, just because she was thinking about her in the middle of the day. How she’d had Maya share her schedule with Sutton so she could be aware of her comings and goings.

How Charlotte had made an effort to find time in her schedule to call Sutton, every single day, even when that schedule had become utterly insane this past week.

“You know you don’t have to do this. You know, call in the middle of the day when you’re booked with meetings,” she reminded Charlotte as she often did, even though the butterflies in her stomach argued with that statement. She loved that Charlotte did it.

It wasn’t just words . Charlotte was showing her she wanted to be with her every single day.

They didn’t have time to see each other every day, between both of their work schedules and Lucy; in the week and a half since the incredible date Charlotte had taken Sutton on, they’d only been able to see one another two more times.

Charlotte seemed to be taking the idea of romance very seriously, much to Sutton’s absolute amusement and delight.

The first time they’d seen each other again had been on Sunday night, when she’d taken both Sutton and Lucy out to dinner and then to the arcade. Sutton didn’t know what, exactly, was better—Charlotte romancing her one-on-one or seeing Charlotte and Lucy learn to play arcade games, chatting and laughing together.

The second time had been on Monday; Charlotte had come over to have a late dinner with Sutton and Lucy after she’d been able to tie things up at work.

Sutton still felt the ache hot and low in her stomach, when she thought about how she and Charlotte had started making out on her couch after Lucy had gone to bed. How heatedly and hungrily Charlotte’s mouth had devoured hers, how feverish she’d been as she’d slid her hands into Charlotte’s hair and fisted them there, desperate to keep her close.

They’d been interrupted fairly early on by Lucy getting out of bed and calling out for Sutton, but… god, she ached .

“I did have back-to-back meetings this morning,” Charlotte acknowledged, bringing Sutton back to the moment, “but my afternoon is looking up.”

“Not nearly as brutal a schedule as you’ve had, so that’s something,” Sutton agreed, and it was true.

Congress had been in session this week, and Charlotte had several other projects she was working on that she’d had to fit time in to work on. And yet she still had found the time to text and call Sutton every day and FaceTime two different times before bed.

“Believe me, I am more than aware and thrilled beyond measure.”

Sutton glanced up at the doorway to her class as her students started filing in. She turned, looking down at her bag as she lowered her voice slightly. “I’m really sorry, but I have to go.” Before she could bring herself to really say goodbye, though, she bit at her cheek. “Maybe, with your not-breakneck-busy afternoon, you’ll have time to come over tonight? Or tomorrow?”

God, she felt like a teenager at how eager she was to see Charlotte again—or, at the very least, like she was in her early twenties again, the first time they’d done this. How excited it made her when they had plans together.

Even before this call, she’d had hopes that Charlotte would be able to wrap up everything on her end early enough this evening and that Layla would take Lucy after school—as had been the plan, given that today was her custody day and all. But Sutton now knew she would likely be taking Lucy for the afternoon and possibly into the evening as well.

“For you, I will make the time.” There was a steadfast promise in Charlotte’s voice that made Sutton’s butterflies start all over again. They were only bigger and stronger; maybe it was more apt to say the flapping of bird wings?

Whatever the technicality of it was, Sutton knew it was a feeling only Charlotte could inspire inside of her.

“I can’t wait,” she murmured as more of her students streamed in through the door. “I’ll see you later then.”

“You most certainly will.”

Sutton arrived at Lucy’s school with ten minutes to spare in spite of the traffic she’d hit, already checked in and affixing a visitor’s badge to her shirt.

Since her conversation with Charlotte, she’d had an undeniable pep to her step, though it was fading the closer she walked to Lucy’s classroom, as the reality of the Layla situation was settling back in.

She’d brought some books with her as well as her tablet so she could hook it up to the smartboard and have the class write a story with her as her participation activity. She hoped it was fun enough to cushion the blow Lucy would feel when Layla didn’t arrive—especially because she knew Lucy had been excited about sharing Layla’s career and had wanted everyone to play the game Operation.

As she reached Lucy’s classroom, she paused in the doorway, scanning her eyes over the tables until she landed on her daughter. Grown-Up Show-and-Tell was slated in after afternoon snack time, which was winding down now.

She watched as Lucy laughed and handed one of the apple slices that Sutton had prepared for her to her friend, Anha, who next to her, taking a few grapes in return. Snack time tradeoff was an arrangement with Anha that Lucy had exuberantly told her about a couple of weeks ago.

When Lucy’s eyes landed on her a moment later, they lit up, and snacks forgotten, she raced toward Sutton.

“Mama!”

Sutton bent down at the right moment for Lucy to leap into her arms, grunting softly at the impact. God, her daughter was getting bigger and bigger every day.

She adjusted her hold, automatically reciprocating Lucy’s wide smile. “Hi, honey! How’s school going?”

Lucy shrugged. “Good.”

“Just good?” she teased. “Where are all of my stories, huh?”

“I can’t tell you them here ,” Lucy stressed, throwing her arm behind her in a gesture toward all of her classmates, many of whom were excitedly looking at her. Several of whom were waving. “Everyone would hear, silly.”

“Yes, excuse my silliness, please.” She used her free hand to smooth the hair that had escaped the braid Sutton had done this morning back behind Lucy’s ear.

Lucy giggled before she peered over Sutton’s shoulder. “Is—did Mom come with you?”

That awful, gnawing feeling returned to her stomach. She hated having to deliver the news to her daughter every time Layla did this. She steeled herself for it by taking a deep breath and subtly taking a step backward. Just far enough out of the doorway so that if Lucy had an emotional response, she’d be able to comfort her away from the eyes of all of Lucy’s peers.

“Honey, your mom is so sorry, but?—”

She could literally feel the disappointed slump of Lucy’s shoulders, a physical heaviness weighing her down. “She isn’t coming.”

Sutton readjusted her hold on Lucy, tightening it a bit so that it turned into something mirroring a cradle. She kept her voice down, soft and comforting. “I’m really sorry, sweetie. She thought she’d be able to make it.”

“But she has surgery ,” Lucy muttered, her eyes downcast as she leaned heavily against Sutton. Her tone was a mix of heartbreakingly youthful disappointment and equally heartbreaking entirely-too-adult acceptance.

“She does,” Sutton confirmed, reaching up to stroke Lucy’s hair again, knowing her daughter loved it. “But it’s okay for you to be upset, love. Okay?”

Lucy nodded against her shoulder, not saying anything as Sutton slid her hand down to rub her back in small circles.

She only looked up from being absorbed in comforting the small, warm body against her own, as Miss Izzie, Lucy’s teacher this semester, approached.

Sutton placed her in her mid- to late twenties, eager and excited, as a kindergarten teacher likely should be, who was also poised and organized… also as a kindergarten teacher likely should be.

Miss Izzie wore a hesitant smile as she stood in the doorway, giving Lucy a brief, concerned glance. “Dr. Spencer–”

“It’s just Sutton,” she cut in, shaking her head and returning the smile.

The young woman’s smile warmed slightly as she nodded. “Right, yes. Apologies, I recall from our conference. Sutton , it’s great good to see you. Thank you so much for joining us this afternoon.”

She glanced at Lucy, that concern etching onto her face once more. “I’m about to start preparing for your presentation. Um, I believe you were scheduled for today as well as Dr. Bilson?”

Sutton could very easily tell from the hesitation in her tone that Izzie was connecting the dots. Sutton was positive that Lucy disclosed a lot about the custody arrangement, from her point of view, to her teacher, not to mention the times Layla had cancelled on her. Lucy was a sharer, especially with the adults in her trust tree, which Sutton loved.

Still, she felt another wave of irritation roll over her despite her best efforts. Because, of course , Layla hadn’t taken a minute to call Lucy’s school and give the memo that she’d be unable to make it. Of course that responsibility fell to Sutton, despite the fact that they had long been divorced and lived separate lives, only kept together by their care and co-parenting of this little girl.

She gamely kept her smile affixed, even though she could feel it dim as Lucy picked her head up and beat her to the delivery. “My mom can’t come. She’s in surgery.”

Her daughter’s bottom lip poked out in a sad pout as she stated the words with muted emotion.

Miss Izzie nodded slowly at the confirmation, looking unsurprised. “Ah. Okay.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call ahead to inform you earlier,” Sutton couldn’t help but apologize. Even if it wasn’t her responsibility, technically, she still felt responsible. “I?—”

She cut herself off as Lucy’s posture shot straight up, nearly dislodging herself from her mother’s hold. Her entire demeanor changed as she smiled brightly and shouted, “Charlotte!”

Confused, Sutton turned to face the direction in which her daughter was exuberantly waving.

Shock nearly bowled her over. Lucy was not seeing things or shouting out names at random.

Strutting smartly down the hallway as if she owned the place, with her own visitor badge, was really Charlotte .

“Senator Thompson!” Miss Izzie’s eyes went wide, eyebrows flying up high on her forehead as her cheeks turned bright red.

Sutton was so glad her reflex was to tighten her hold on Lucy in her surprise rather than the opposite, as Charlotte drew up right next to her. She was close enough for Sutton to feel her body warmth, and the pleasure from that mixed in with her surprise.

“Charlotte?” she couldn’t help but ask, perplexed, as if she, Lucy, and Izzie were all sharing a delusion.

Dressed in one of her gorgeously fitted, expensive suits, with her hair perfectly curled and falling over her shoulders, Charlotte stood in all her glory as she sent them a dazzling smile. “That’s quite a multifaceted welcome, I must say.”

She then directed that smile at Lucy, leaning down slightly to get right on her level. “Hi, Luce! Long time no see.”

Lucy giggled, reaching out to poke Charlotte’s shoulder. “I just saw you Monday . You and Mama are both so silly sometimes.”

“I suppose we are,” Charlotte allowed, glancing at Sutton with a conspiratorial grin.

Those insane butterflies that she’d felt earlier returned at merely seeing that smile, and Sutton found herself nearly breathless with them. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard that there was a show-and-tell slot opening this afternoon,” she explained, shooting Sutton a blink-and-you’d-miss-it wink before looking expectantly at Miss Izzie. “Apologies that I didn’t have time to check beforehand; I know I wasn’t on the docket, but I was hoping?—”

The young woman positively jumped as soon as she was directly addressed by Charlotte. “Oh! No! Absolutely! You’re definitely welcome to join us, in any capacity!”

Sutton blinked widely at the woman, trying valiantly to clamp down on the grin that wanted to split across her face.

Charlotte’s smile—far more diplomatic than Sutton’s—grew. “Wonderful. I so appreciate it.”

Lucy’s heartbreaking disappointment seemed long forgotten as she bounced against Sutton— oof , again she was reminded that Lucy was getting big enough that she wouldn’t be able to hold her like this for much longer—and kicked her legs sharply out at the sides in excitement. “This is so cool !”

She wiggled against Sutton, who let her down. “I gotta tell my friends!”

“Me too,” Miss Izzie added before clearing her throat, her cheeks darkening. “That is, send out a memo of the change in schedule to the other parents and staff. Excuse me.”

They both watched her walk back to her desk, and Charlotte murmured, “I get the impression that she’s easily starstruck? Very into politics?”

Sutton slowly shook her head as she turned her gaze back to Charlotte. “No, not really. This is a D.C.-located private school, Charlotte,” she informed her dryly. “You are far from the first politician she’s met. I’d say it has far more to do with you specifically.”

And, as she gazed at Charlotte, Sutton could fully understand what Miss Izzie was feeling.

She’d known Charlotte for over a decade and still got that feeling of awe sometimes. She’d had a sexual relationship with Charlotte, for crying out loud, and still felt it consistently.

Charlotte murmured, “Huh,” as if she was surprised by Sutton’s words, but the slight uptick of the edge of her lips told another story.

If Charlotte were nearly anyone else, that smirk would have looked pompous or conceited and ruined her entire aesthetic in this moment. Of her being a trailblazing, famous, beyond gorgeous senator, showing up for the afternoon to do a show-and-tell for children she wasn’t even related to.

But it didn’t.

Charlotte wore confidence like she wore her designer suits. If anything, it only added to her charm.

Sutton felt her heart skip a beat, and she couldn’t help but lean back against the doorjamb, grateful for the support.

Charlotte was so beautiful; nothing ever dimmed it. She was strong, brilliant, capable, and she wanted to use all that capability to better the world around her. Sutton knew better than literally anyone how strong Charlotte’s appeal was.

She, more than anyone, could sympathize with Lucy’s twenty-something sapphic teacher.

“What are you doing here?” she couldn’t help but ask, hearing the marvel in her own tone.

Charlotte’s smirk melted into her normal smile. Well, the smile she often gave to Sutton. Something soft and warm. Could smiles be intimate? This one felt that way. “I told you—I’m here for show-and-tell.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m aware of that . But… don’t you have work?” She searched Charlotte’s honey-brown eyes for an explanation.

Charlotte shrugged entirely too easily. “After this morning, my schedule was fairly flexible, if you recall.”

Sutton could only shake her head. She, of course, did recall their conversation, but Charlotte was not the type of person to cancel an afternoon of scheduled work last minute without some sort of emergency to prompt it. Especially when she’d already taken that spontaneous day off from work earlier this month!

“You really didn’t have to do this.”

“Much like I’ve already told you, I’m well aware of my responsibilities and things I have to do, darling. I want to be here.” Her voice dipped into that low, sweet tone, so sincere, as she reached her hand out a few inches, lacing her fingers with Sutton’s. “I want to be here for you and for Lucy.”

God .

If Sutton weren’t already head over heels for this woman, she would have been a goner now.

She tightened her fingers around Charlotte’s, unable, almost, to believe this was real. It was very much the same feeling she’d had on their date, when Charlotte had taken her to the Thompson Foundation.

“You’re…” She trailed off, the words feeling too thick in her throat. There were too many descriptors for her to properly express, right here and now, outside a classroom full of other people, many of them children. Her own included.

“You are, too,” Charlotte simply replied.

She squeezed Sutton’s hand in her own once more before slowly disengaging their fingers. “I do have to tell you that I don’t have a whole presentation planned out. At least, nothing more than I was able to work out in the car ride over here.”

God, Sutton wanted more than anything to lean in and kiss her. The only thing stopping here was the knowledge that the eyes of Lucy, her teacher, classmates, and several of the adults that had been congregating in the back of the room were all watching.

“I’m confident you’ll be able to scrape something together.”

As the sun was setting later that evening—early, given that it was still winter—Sutton parked her car outside of Layla’s house.

Layla had texted when she’d been preparing to leave the hospital, saying that she’d still like to have Lucy for the weekend and that she’d come and pick Lucy up from Sutton’s, if it made things easier for her.

Given, though, that she and Lucy were out with Charlotte at a bakery after school, that wouldn’t have been a very feasible plan.

“Do you have everything, hon?” she asked Lucy, turning to look at her daughter in the back seat.

Lucy was in the process of returning the contents of her backpack to where they belonged, as she’d gone through it to find the book she’d gotten at the school library to read as they drove. A relatively strong reader for her age, she had started reading simple books on her own in the last few months.

“Almost!” Lucy told her, meticulously placing everything in the backpack.

Luckily, Sutton had packed Lucy’s favorite stuffed animal and a few things from her house this morning, and Lucy had enough clothing and toys at Layla’s.

She turned to look at Charlotte in her passenger seat.

She’d been surprised and undeniably pleased when Charlotte had given her a cute, cheeky smile and asked for a ride after their afternoon at school. “Hamish dropped me off, and I sent him back to the office to manage Autumn and Maya while they run some errands for me this evening. I can always call an Uber…”

Sutton couldn’t help but laugh before kissing her. It was light and brief, mindful of the fact that Lucy was with them and they were in the parking lot at her school, but she’d felt entirely too overcome with… everything.

When Charlotte lifted her gaze to meet hers, Sutton said, “I’m just going to bring her to the door.”

Charlotte nodded as she intently typed on her phone without looking. “Of course. I’m just finishing up this email, and then I’m free for the evening.” She shot Sutton an apologetic smile, but Sutton shook her head to dismiss it.

She didn’t want or need any sort of apology.

Charlotte not only had shown up for Lucy today but had then made time to go get hot cocoa and cookies afterward at their favorite bakery. It had only been when they’d gotten in the car to drive to Layla’s that she’d asked if Sutton minded if she finished up her work during the drive.

As far as Sutton was concerned, Charlotte had been a superhero today.

“Have a fun weekend, Lucy. I’ll see you soon.” Charlotte turned to smile at her daughter, the same warmth in her expression that she had with Sutton.

Lucy paused in her mission to gather her belongings to aim a thousand-watt grin right back. “Will you come over for dinner next week at Mama’s? ’Cause I don’t get to hang out with you tonight like Mama does, and that’s not fair.”

“I am nothing if not supportive of equality,” Charlotte agreed, schooling her features into a serious face.

Sutton’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

Lucy nodded firmly as she zipped up her backpack. “Yay! Okay! We can play checkers!”

“It’s a date,” Charlotte confirmed before she slid her gaze toward Sutton. “If that’s okay…?”

“Of course!” The words fell out of Sutton’s mouth.

Because the reality was that she wanted to have Charlotte around—around her, around Lucy—as much as Charlotte could be around. It was a want that increased at an alarming speed, every single day.

“Okay, then! I’m ready,” Lucy informed her, reaching for the door as she dragged her now-closed backpack with her.

“Be right back,” she informed Charlotte before opening her own door.

Lucy led the way up the walkway to the large, beautiful house Layla lived in with Arianne as Sutton trailed behind her a few steps.

In the past, walking to this home that her ex shared with the woman she’d cheated on and left Sutton for had left an unshakable heaviness in the pit of her stomach, even after she’d emotionally recovered from her marriage.

Right now, though, she didn’t feel the sense of foreboding. Her frustration with Layla from earlier as well as how thrilled she was about Charlotte combined in a very disconcerting way, but there was no sinking dread involved.

Layla opened the door as they walked up the porch and smiled down at Lucy.

Sutton recognized that exact smile—remorseful and entirely too exuberant. It was the same one she’d been given many times during their relationship. And at the end of it, given how everything had played out. Layla was apologetic but not remorseful, wanting entirely too much to simply move on .

“Luce, I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there today. How did it go?”

Lucy’s excited smile seemed to take Layla aback as she skipped across the porch toward her. “It was awesome ! Mama had us all write a story together, and—and then Charlotte came, and she organized us to do debates! And my team won over half of them!”

At the mention of Charlotte, Layla’s smile faltered, and her gaze darted to Sutton. All she did in response was nod, lifting her eyebrows at Layla as if silently daring her to say something disparaging when they both knew she didn’t have a leg to stand on.

“Charlotte, huh?” Layla asked, gamely smiling down at Lucy once more. It was a lot more strained this time, Sutton noted, and she knew it killed Layla to bite back her initial reaction.

“Yup!” Lucy answered, blissfully oblivious to her mother’s slight changes in tone. “And then we got cookies and hot cocoa!”

That muscle in Layla’s cheek twitched, but she maintained her grin. “That sounds like so much fun, sweetie.”

“It was,” Lucy confirmed. “Can Anha sleep over this weekend?” she asked, smiling widely and guilelessly up at Layla.

Layla cleared her throat. “Uh… well, I’d have to check with her parents?” She sent Sutton a questing look.

“Her mother’s cell number is on the email we got in September from Lucy’s teacher,” Sutton informed her, though it didn’t shock her that Layla likely hadn’t looked at that email since she’d received it.

“Then I’ll call her,” Layla confirmed.

Sutton wasn’t quite certain if Lucy was asking for a sleepover because she knew she could likely ask for anything right now from Layla or if she’d have asked anyway. At the end of the day, that wasn’t really her business anymore.

And when Lucy pumped her fists in the air in excitement, she also didn’t really care. “I love you, honey.”

“I love you, Mama.” Lucy turned to hug her waist.

Sutton stroked her hands over her daughter’s soft hair in return. “I’ll see you in a couple days.”

“Okay! Bye!” she unceremoniously shouted as she disengaged from her, charged past Layla, and ran into her house.

They both watched her disappear down the hallway before Layla turned to Sutton with an arched eyebrow, the smiling facade dropped entirely. “Charlotte went to Lucy’s show-and-tell? Was that just going to be a surprise for me this afternoon when I arrived?”

Bristling, Sutton crossed her arms. “Charlotte only showed up today because there was an unexpected vacancy in the schedule. It was wonderful to have the company at this sort of thing.” She didn’t actually voice the for once she wanted to add, but she knew Layla picked up on it.

And she looked suitably chastised. Well, as much as Layla ever did.

Sutton watched as Layla looked beyond her, down at Sutton’s car parked at the curb. Right where Charlotte sat in the passenger seat.

“It seems this is getting more serious than some sort of working relationship , then,” Layla surmised quietly.

“It is,” she confirmed, defensive yet confident. “And if that’s going to be a problem for you, then we’ll have to sort that out.”

She wondered if Layla would dare to mention anything about their custody arrangement again, like she had the night she’d found out about Charlotte. It had been shocking to hear because Sutton had assumed that both she and Layla knew where Lucy garnered the most stability between the two of them, given that they’d never had to argue about it aloud. Sutton being named the primary parent in their divorce had been silently understood and was never once debated.

And while she didn’t have any concern that Layla could have the ability to change their arrangement, even if they went back to their lawyers about it—today’s situation was just the latest example that Sutton could reference as to why Layla being Lucy’s primary parent would never work—she didn’t want to experience the drain on time, energy, and resources. Not when they’d finally found a cordial co-parenting situation in the last few years.

“No,” Layla finally said, her voice tight as she shook her head. “It isn’t going to be a problem as long as you’re certain you know what you’re doing.”

“I don’t need your seal of approval as to what I’m doing ,” Sutton shot back, uncharacteristically sharply at the remark. “When it comes to Lucy, I’d like to think you know I will always put her first.”

That muscle in Layla’s jaw twitched again before she sighed. “Yes. I do.”

“Good. If that’s all, I’ll be going. Have a good weekend.”

Layla cleared her throat as Sutton started to turn away. “Sutton, I…”

She paused, throwing Layla a look over her shoulder. When Layla didn’t immediately speak—and when Sutton didn’t immediately understand the expression on her face—she turned more completely to look at her. “Yes?”

Layla cleared her throat. “Nothing. You have a”—her gaze drifted to Charlotte once more, and she pursed her lips—“good weekend as well.”

Sutton nodded, her gaze drifting to Charlotte as she unthinkingly murmured, “I will.”

Even though Sutton hadn’t necessarily planned to jump Charlotte as soon as they’d entered Charlotte’s home, it was exactly what happened.

It had started as Charlotte had been shutting the door behind them, as she’d spoken, “We can go out for dinner if you want, or?—”

Anything else she’d been intending to say had fallen right back down her throat as Sutton had reached out and grabbed Charlotte’s hips, pushing her back and lowering her mouth down onto Charlotte’s.

She didn’t care about dinner. She didn’t care about anything that wasn’t Charlotte in this moment.

Every emotion she’d had to quell throughout the afternoon, due to Lucy’s presence, seemed to hit her in that moment.

Her heart felt so full, and those bird-butterflies were in full swing, and Charlotte had been there for both her and Lucy, and those things made Sutton feel so many grand, sweeping feelings.

They combined into a baffling, intense desire . Maybe it was that her sexual desire—especially for Charlotte—and emotions were linked.

But she’d been animalistically attracted to Charlotte since first laying eyes on her, and this version of Charlotte was even more devastatingly appealing.

She’d pinned Charlotte against her closed door easily, holding her in place with her hips as her hands busily tugging Charlotte’s jacket off.

Charlotte had easily matched her pace, her mouth hot and answering every demand Sutton had for her, in spite of her obvious surprise. She’d dropped her bag to the ground with a thunk that Sutton had barely registered before she’d wrapped her arms around Sutton’s neck and pulled her down, securing Sutton against her.

That had been… god, Sutton didn’t even know how long ago, by this point.

By this point, they sat on the couch in Charlotte’s living room. They’d wandered in here, not breaking their kiss, after they’d stripped one another of their winter outerwear. Hands had been wandering, and she’d breathlessly, hoarsely giggled against Charlotte’s lips when they’d bumped into her coffee table before finally landing on the sofa.

Sutton supposed sitting was not an apt term for herself.

Charlotte was sitting.

Sutton was straddling her lap, knees tightly bracketing Charlotte’s hips.

She swallowed every keening moan that worked out of Charlotte as Sutton slid her tongue over hers. She couldn’t seem to still her hands, not that she was trying to.

She wanted to touch everywhere; she wanted to touch all of Charlotte’s soft, wavy hair, clenching it in her hands, scratching against her scalp. She loved the way it made Charlotte gasp, then arch into her.

She wanted to touch Charlotte’s breasts as she strained her torso up against Sutton’s. She’d done that, too, dipping under the cups of Charlotte’s bra, feeling how hard her nipples were.

She wanted to trace her hands over Charlotte’s silhouette, the curves of her waist, outlining the whole of her.

She wanted to trace her thumbs over the line of Charlotte’s jaw, the softness of her cheeks. To cup her neck, unwilling for an inch of unnecessary space to remain between them.

She wanted all of these things, and she took them as Charlotte took her own fill. Her hands currently settled over Sutton’s jeans, against her ass, gripping tightly and pulling Sutton against her. She assisted Sutton in rolling her hips against her, slowly and sensuously grinding down.

Sutton groaned in the back of her throat, the heat threatening to consume her as she nipped her teeth into Charlotte’s bottom lip, a move that made Charlotte’s hands tighten even further against her before she started gentling their kiss.

Before she broke their kiss, and?—

Sutton panted for breath, blinking down at Charlotte a moment later as she dimly realized that Charlotte had broken their kiss and hadn’t done so for the purpose of trailing her mouth down Sutton’s neck.

Instead, she found Charlotte staring up at her, her head fallen back against the plush couch cushion behind her.

“What—is everything okay?” she asked, slowly sliding her hands down to brace on Charlotte’s shoulders.

Charlotte inhaled deeply, nodding, as she seemed to take a moment to clear her mind.

Sutton understood the feeling.

“I… yes,” she finally managed. “Everything is more than okay.”

A slow, lazy, entirely too charming smile slid over her lips as she squeezed Sutton’s butt once more, then slid her hands to stroke up and down the backs of Sutton’s thighs instead. “I just…” Charlotte paused, a contemplative look crossing over her face as she explained, “I want to do this right, this time. Romance and date nights and all. Before the sex.”

Sutton’s lust-clouded vision faded as curious amusement took a hold. She leaned back slightly, settling herself more fully in Charlotte’s lap as she looked down at her. “Charlotte, you are aware that we’ve had sex before. Many times.”

A laugh left Charlotte’s throat as she lightly pinched at Sutton’s thighs. “Very well aware, thank you very much.”

“Are you also aware that this is the longest we’ve ever been in once another’s lives since the very first time we’ve ever had sex without… you know. Having sex?” Sutton could feel a slight blush slide over her face as she stated the fact.

It was ridiculous, but it was also true. And it was something she hadn’t quite thought about in so many words until this moment. But it was the beginning of February, and the last time they’d had sex had been on Christmas Eve.

Even when they’d run into each other earlier this year, they’d had sex on Charlotte’s desk in October before settling into their routine in November.

“Not that we have to have sex,” Sutton rushed to add on, even as her gaze dipped to Charlotte’s chest.

In her fevered haze, she’d unbuttoned Charlotte’s shirt, which hung alluringly open now, her black lace bra proudly pushing up her chest. Her nipples were still visibly hard, and Sutton inhaled deeply as a shot of heat streaked through her again before she pointedly brought her eyes back up to meet Charlotte’s.

“I just mean—there’s not a right way . I don’t think. That’s all.”

“I have thought about that, actually,” Charlotte assured her, stroking her thumbs comfortingly over Sutton’s jean-clad thighs. Her voice turned soft as she added, “And honestly, that’s why I don’t want us to immediately give in to our obviously mutual desire this time.”

Sutton’s eyebrows drew together in confusion, then astonishment. She could have sworn there was a light blush tinging Charlotte’s cheeks now.

“We know that physically we are more than compatible, darling. Always have been.” Charlotte’s eyes narrowed slightly, meaningfully, as she tilted her head up at Sutton. “I suppose I want us both to know that everything else between us works, too. Before that.”

Even if Sutton was physically frustrated, she couldn’t—wouldn’t—complain about that. Not when this was the most romanced she’d ever felt in her life.

She was so aroused she was soaking wet in her jeans while also feeling those crazy-big butterflies. Ah, yes. That was the real Charlotte Thompson Special.

Warmth bloomed in her chest as she dipped down and touched their kiss-swollen lips together, gently. Lightly. Not inciting anything more.

She pulled back before they could take it any further, though, then let out a deep sigh and pushed herself off of Charlotte so that she was sitting next to her rather than straddling her.

“You claim to have never done this before, Charlotte, but you are one hell of a romancer.”