“Oh, I do,” Sofia said with a laugh. “It’s about time, in my opinion.”
“I agree,” a crackly voice said into the phone, surprising Lauren.
“Granny?” Lauren and her sister said at the same time.
“Don’t tell me you’re surprised,” Lillian Ambrose said. “How do you think I became such a good businesswoman in the first place? I spent years eavesdropping on men’s conversations.”
Nick wrapped an arm about Lauren’s shoulders and kissed her cheek. She leaned against him. “So you don’t mind your future grandson-in-law being Nicholas Matthews?” Lauren asked.
“I’m delighted,” her grandmother said. “Truly.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Ambrose,” Nick said, emotion in his voice.
Lauren felt like crying too.
“That’s Lillian to you, Nicholas,” her grandmother commanded in an amused tone. “Give me a great-grandchild, and you can call me Grandmother.”
Nick chuckled and pulled Lauren closer. “I don’t have a problem with that.”
But Lauren was blushing. “Grandma. You can’t say that.”
“I already did, dear,” her grandmother said. “Now these old bones are worn out from all this eavesdropping. Good night, everyone.”
After hanging up with Sofia and their grandmother, Lauren wrapped both arms about Nick’s waist. “I still don’t get it. How did the painting get here?”
He kissed the top of her head. “I don’t know, but I’m not worried about it.”
“I need to check something,” she said and drew away from Nick to look at her phone again. She tried to pull up the emails exchanged between herself and the Chicago museum, but nothing came up in a search.
“Hang on,” she said, and she opened the laptop on her kitchen table. She did the same searches, but still nothing. She browsed her sent file, then her deleted file. There was no record of any correspondence between her and the museum. It was like it had never happened.
Lauren sat back in her chair. “Huh. It seems the painting has a mind of its own.”
Nick placed his hands atop her shoulders and squeezed. “Maybe we can call the museum tomorrow?”
“No.” Lauren rose to her feet and turned to face her new fiancé. “I want to forget about the curse once and for all. From this moment on, I think I need to focus more on the amazing man in my life.”
Nick’s brows rose, and his lips curved into a smile. “Oh? Really? And how are you planning on doing that?”
“I think kissing you is a good start.”
Nick chuckled, and as his laughter faded, his gaze grew serious again. “Did I tell you I love you?”
“A few times.” She moved her hands up his chest and looped her arms about his neck. “But you can tell me again.”
His hands slid around her waist, then he anchored her against him, and before kissing her again, he whispered, “I love you, Lauren Ambrose.”
For More Books in The Women of Ambrose Estate series, visit the Amazon page:
Heather B. Moore is a four-time USA Today bestselling author. She writes historical thrillers under the pen name H.B. Moore; her latest thrillers include The Killing Curse and Breaking Jess. Under the name Heather B. Moore, she writes romance and women’s fiction. Her newest releases include the contemporary sports romances, Belltown Six Pack series, and the small town romance series Pine Valley. She’s also one of the coauthors of the USA Today bestselling series: Timeless Romance Anthologies. Heather writes speculative fiction under the pen name Jane Redd; releases include the Solstice series, Mistress Grim, and Midsummer Night. Heather is represented by Dystel, Goderich & Bourret.
For book updates, sign up for Heather’s email list: hbmoore.com/contact
Amazon Author Page: Heather B. Moore
Website: HBMoore.com
Facebook: Fans of H. B. Moore
Blog: MyWritersLair.blogspot.com
Instagram: @authorhbmoore
Twitter: @HeatherBMoore
Mostly Perfect Page 17
