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Scratch that—loveher changes.

Luce’s approval would make all this hiding worth it. It may fuse their identities deeper, never to part in a town she adored. That mixed anxiety in her cocktail of excitement and stone-cold fear.

Where would Celene fit in any of this, in her tight-knit community? Skye closed her weary eyes on the ride, hoping the best outcomes would find her.

23

Aheavy helping of trepidation pervaded Skye’s Monday.

Because who the hell was she to alter work by Lucille Florentine, winner of awards, an example to artisans globally?

Skye delivered a quick, evasive report that the reliefs were “in good hands” while Luce shuffled around the kitchen like any other morning, preparing two breakfast sandwiches, as Zander filled a shift today. That allowed Thalia to stay home and send photos of the drying projects. Nothing appeared out of place, but by 3 p.m., Skye hooked her bag onto her shoulder and asked if Zander was fine closing shop on his own.

Fixing on black round-framed glasses, Zander maintained his consistently neutral smile, promising he had it covered. He’d probably react the same if she’d demanded his allegiance to the Dark Lord of Adhesive. She waved him goodbye in her haste out of the collective.

With careful buffing and a few edges sanded, Skye approved. And in a puzzling uptick of a mood, her dread abated.Chromatique Flairwould love these, she’d determined, in the light of Thalia’s sunny patio.

Thalia wrapped her arm around Skye’s shoulder, smooshing their cheeks together. “It’s incredible. Luce might cry.”

There was no coming back from this. Skye loved what she could make and credited her grandparents for the access to even discover this love, but she also wanted to be her own person. Not known as a protégée or granddaughter riding Florentine coattails. A modest mosaicist’s dilemma.

“Can’t thank you enough.” Skye tightened her hold on Thalia’s waist. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

“Yeah, you could’ve.” Smirking, Thalia stroked her necklaces in tandem jingles. “On your way to Celene’s now?”

Skye couldn’t play off her flimsy smile, lighting her phone for the time. “She’s been home for two hours.”

“Those are two hours too long without you. Go to your lady. And um...” She drummed her fingertips together, villainously suggestive. “I can openandclose Luce’s on my own tomorrow. Zander’s willing to pop in midday.”

Longing lanced through Skye, mind on the last time she and Celene kissed, of insistent lips and hands holding her in place. “Have I been this way whenever you’ve had partners?”

“You’ve been very respectful of my personal life,” Thalia replied with a laugh. “Now stop stalling!”

Wonderfully, Carl’s courier truck arrived right when Skye backed out of Thalia’s driveway. Another worry to dash away before she rushed home to freshen up.

Minutes later, she stood on the Vales’ deck.

Okay. She washere.

Skye peered around the deck. Leaves dappled the otherwise tidy front yard. It could use a quick rake. Or she could yank out some weeds sprouting in the crevices of Boob Mountain.

Shit, maybe shewasstalling.

“Hello, artist.”

Celene peeked from the open sliding door. And Skye’s heartbeat pealed into her ears at her slight, knowing smile.

An artist, wow.

Skye followed Celene inside, to the kitchen’s bar, with the stiffness of someone on the precipice of a discovery. Never had she involved herself with someone bearing an aura like Celene’s, whose trail of perfume tickled Skye’s senses, luring her more suggestive instincts out of hiding.

Celene wore a loose tank—deep red, partly concealing a cropped athleisure top and black leggings stretched snugly onto her hips. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really. Thalia and I split takeout when I stopped by.” Heart launching into overdrive, Skye rambled, “Did I jump the gun? Should I have waited until I met with you?”

Celene laughed, reducing that panic. “I’m not hungry, either. It’s fine.” She indicated a container on the counter with a nod. “Mom and I met for lunch yesterday, and she made us some treats. We’ll have them later.”

That piqued Skye’s curiosity, but not enough to glance away from Celene sliding a hand across the new quartz countertop, threading their fingers as one. Warming up, Skye asked, “Does your mom cook often?”