Steele (Arizona Vengeance 9)

“Nothing I’m allowed to divulge because moms and daughters can have secrets,” she says primly. “But I have it on good authority that you are making an impression.”

“Hmm,” I say, rubbing at my chin. “I could tickle it out of you. That has worked in the past.”

“I’ll never reveal her secrets, so give it up,” she says firmly, then refocuses the subject. “So let me get this straight… you want me to help you cook an extravagant meal?”

“Yes, because I suck at cooking even non-extravagant meals,” I confirm with a solid nod. “I don’t want to screw this up.”

“Probably want me to help you set the table properly?”

“That would be nice,” I agree.

“Make sure there’re candles and the flowers and gift all sweetly laid out?” she presses.

“You’re a regular Martha Stewart,” I mutter.

“Who?” she asks.

“Never mind, but yes… I would like you to help me do all that. Plus, I need you with me to go shopping for groceries, flowers, and jewelry.”

“And after all of this,” Lucy continues, her tone droll. “I expect you want me to hide in my room.”

I burst out laughing, but I quickly shake my head. “No way. You help me with all of this, and you get to join in on the romance.”

“Having your kid there is not romantic,” she asserts.

“There you are wrong,” I correct sternly. “Romance is nothing more than expressing love, and your mom would think it’s sweet we did this together. I mean, I can’t get you to go putt-putt with me, but we can show her that we’re a solid team and we both like making her happy.”

Lucy’s head twists my way, her lips pursed. She thinks I’m ridiculous, but she finally smiles. “Okay. I’m in.”

“Awesome,” I say, slapping a hand on the wheel. “Let’s take Brody home and get him situated in the kennel. We’ll run out to the grocery store and we can get flowers there, then there’s a jewelry store nearby we can pop in. But to make sure this all goes off without a hitch, text your mom and come up with some lie to get her over to my place around seven.”

“You want me to lie to her?” Lucy asks dubiously, reaching into her backpack to nab her phone.

“It’s for the greater good,” I assure her.

?

“Are you sure she’s coming?” I ask Lucy, glancing at the clock. It’s 7:05.

“Relax,” she mutters from the floor where she’s playing a little tug o’ war with Brody. “I strung an elaborate set of texts to get her here. It’s foolproof.”

I glance back into my small dining room. My house is about half the size of the one I shared with Ella and Lucy, but that’s fine by me. Less to keep up with.

Lucy outdid herself, helping me shop for and make an amazing shrimp scampi. It’s no Chateaubriand, but, frankly, we didn’t have a lot of time. She has the flowers prettily arranged on the table, and I opened a bottle of wine to breathe. There’s a tiny gift bag on the plate where Ella will sit, a beautiful gold charm bracelet that’s incredibly delicate and completely Ella’s style.

A pounding on my door startles me, and I jump about a foot in the air. I frown, moving that way, wondering why Ella didn’t use the doorbell.

I swing the door open, my most charming smile in place, and say, “Hey, baby.”

Ella stands there, her face a mask of pure fury that quickly dissipates into confusion. “You’re here.”

“Of course I’m here,” I reply with a frown. “I live here.”

Some sort of understanding filters into her expression, but I’m still clueless. “Where is that daughter of ours?” she asks in a clipped voice.

I turn sideways from the door so she can see into the living room where Lucy is on the floor with Brody. Ella storms past me, anger once again heating her eyes, and stomps right up to her.

Putting her hands on her hips, she says, “Lucy McKenna Steele… you better have a damn good reason why I’m standing here. You had me worried sick.”

“Worried sick?” I exclaim, moving to stand by Ella, but my gaze is fixed on my daughter. “What did you tell your mom?”

Lucy shrugs with a grin. “You’re the one who said to lie to her.”

I duck my head in shame because that’s completely true.

“What the hell is going on?” Ella practically screeches. “I get a flurry of texts from Lucy saying you were acting weird, wouldn’t feed her, then you left saying you were going out for the night.”

I whirl toward Lucy, my jaw dropping wide open. I can’t even say anything.

Lucy smirks. “You said to get her here at seven. You said to lie. I did my job, so don’t give me that look.”

“Lucy,” Ella growls.

Not sure whether to be mad or laugh, I decide Lucy did her job, although not in a way I would have wanted. It’s time to let her off the hook and calm Ella down.