It Started at Christmas...

“I can appreciate that fact about you even if it drives me crazy at times.”

“Such as now?”

He shook his head. “Not really because for all your protesting, you are still letting me hold you.”

“Why are you holding me? I thought we agreed we wouldn’t do this at work? You promised me we wouldn’t.”

“This is a hug between friends. A means of offering comfort and support. I never promised not to give you those things when you obviously need a hug.”

“Oh.” Because really what could she say to that? He was right. She obviously had needed a hug. His hug.

Only being in his arms, her body pressed close to his, her nostrils filled with his spicy clean scent, made her aware of all the other things she needed him for, too.

Things she didn’t need to be distracted by at work.

She pulled from his arms and he let her go.

“Sorry I bothered you. I just wanted to let you know about Edith and that I’d be at the hospital during lunch.”

“I’ll see you there.”

“But—”

“I’ll see you there,” he repeated.

“You’re a persistent man, Lance.”

“You’re a stubborn woman, McKenzie.”

A smile tugged at her lips. “Fine, I’ll see you at the hospital at lunch.”

* * *

Lance had a Celebration Graduation meeting for last-minute Valentine’s Day dance planning that he’d tried to convince McKenzie to attend with him. She didn’t want to get too involved in his pet projects because their days together as a couple were dwindling. The more entangled their lives were the more difficult saying goodbye was going to be.

McKenzie’s phone rang and she almost didn’t answer when she saw that it was her mother. When she heard what her mother had to say she wished she hadn’t.

“I’m getting married.”

Three little words that had McKenzie dropping everything and agreeing to meet her mother at her house.

Violet’s house was the same house where McKenzie had grown up. McKenzie’s father had paid for the house where they’d lived when he’d first been starting his law career. He’d also provided a monthly check that had apparently abdicated him of all other obligations to his daughter.

“Whatever is going through your head?” McKenzie asked the moment she walked into her mother’s living room. She came to a halt when she saw the man sitting on her mother’s sofa. The one who was much younger than her mother. “How old are you?”

“What does it matter how old he is?” her mother interrupted. “Age is only a number.”

“Mom, if I’m older than him, I’m walking out of this house right now.”

Her mother glanced at the man and giggled. Giggled. “He’s eight years older than you, McKenzie.”

“Which means he’s ten years younger than you,” McKenzie reminded her. She wasn’t a prude, didn’t think relationships should be bound by age, except for when it came to her mother. Her mother dating a man so much younger just didn’t sit well.

“Yes, I am a lucky woman that Yves has fallen for me in my old, decrepit state,” her mother remarked wryly. “Thank goodness I’ll have him around to help me with my walker and picking out a nursing home.”

“Mom...” McKenzie began, then glanced back and forth between her mother and the man she was apparently engaged to. She sank down onto her mother’s sofa. “So, maybe you should tell me more about this whole getting-married bit since I know for a fact you were single at the beginning of the year.”

She was used to her father marrying on a whim, but her mother had been single since the day she’d divorced McKenzie’s father almost three decades ago. Violet dated and chased men, but she didn’t marry.