At Your Most Beautiful Harper Bliss (classic reads .TXT) 📖

real asset to our team,” Beth said. “What with her special powers of observation.” She took a swig of soda water. “It’s invaluable when you work in news.”

Griff pulled a face. “You’d better watch out I don’t take your job while you’re on maternity leave.”

“That’s one cliché too far.” Beth put her hands on her belly. “Besides, Griff, you’re not just my co-worker. You’re my friend. I trust you accordingly.”

“We’ll see when it comes to picking the new one’s godmother how good a friend you consider me to be.”

“Is it okay with everyone if I go out on the deck now?” Quinn’s father stood there grinning. He slapped Tommy on the back in a faux-macho way. “My daughter’s never taken a great interest in grilling, so all my hopes rest on you now, young man.”

“Tommy’s more a Good Housekeeping recipe kind of guy,” Beth said. “His key lime pie is to die for.”

“Come on, Bill, before the womenfolk get out of control,” Tommy said and headed out with Quinn’s dad in tow.

Too lazy to walk, Ethan crawled to his mother and pulled at the sleeve of her blouse. Beth took him into her lap.

“Another one of those in a few weeks,” Angus said.

Quinn looked at Maya. She’d been over the moon about it for months. Sometimes she wondered if Maya had been so overjoyed with the prospect of having another grandchild that she’d asked Quinn to move in with her whilst in a state of delirium. While it was true that Quinn stayed over at Maya’s a lot, sometimes not returning home for a full week, she hadn’t expected the question. Ever since Rachel, more than ten years ago, Quinn hadn’t lived with a romantic partner. Ironically, it was Rachel kicking her out that had brought her and Maya together for the first time. That she had just moved into Maya’s condo was just another example of how you could never guess how life would play out.

“At least you’ll have an extra pair of younger hands to help you,” Quinn’s mother said, surprising everyone. As the year had progressed, her quips had become less sharp and, most surprising of all, even a little bit funny at times.

“Bwook,” Ethan suddenly shouted, leaving all of them in stitches. He held out his little arms in Quinn’s mother’s direction.

Quinn’s mother melted on the spot. She might have railed against Maya being a grandmother when she’d first found out about Quinn and Maya, but she sure looked happy to have a small child in her life.

“This member of the womenfolk is going to get the salads together.” Quinn stood. Since moving into Maya’s luxurious condo with its swanky marble-topped kitchen, she’d been doing more cooking than she’d previously done in all her life.

Maya followed her into the kitchen. “Let’s do it together,” she said.

Chapter 45

On the actual day of the first anniversary of them seeing each other again—the day of that fateful photo shoot—Maya had giddily agreed to Quinn’s suggestion. It had sounded like such a romantic idea at the time, but now as they stood outside the tattoo parlor she wasn’t so sure.

Maya was in the second half of her fifties. What was she doing getting a tattoo? And a matching one with Quinn at that? When she looked at it from a regular, everyday kind of viewpoint, the whole thing was preposterous. But then she glanced over at Quinn, and pictured all of Quinn’s existing tattoos, and then the whole thing made a lot more sense again.

“Ready?” Quinn asked, and took her hand.

“Hell, no.”

“Sometimes it’s better to jump before you’re ready.” Quinn pulled her inside.

“You have a motto for every situation,” Maya muttered under her breath, but Quinn wasn’t even listening anymore.

The tattoo artist greeted Quinn as though she were a long-lost friend. Quinn introduced Maya and the woman didn’t so much as bat an eyelid—that was New York for you. Maya had learned as much. She’d been here over a year and a half now and during that time she had found out that it took a lot to perturb a New Yorker. Of course, they were met with a raised eyebrow once in a while and when she told Indira at Acton about her and Quinn, she’d seen her swallow as her brain computed that particular bit of information about Maya’s personal life. But most people, Maya had found, like this tattoo artist, didn’t care one iota about Quinn and Maya being together. It was a refreshing experience for Maya who had spent the best part of her younger years being judged in dance competitions and the time between then and now in a small town like Milbury where gossip spread like wildfire. Then again, if she’d stayed in Milbury, she wouldn’t be on the cusp of getting a tattoo right now.

“I’ll go first,” Quinn said. She looked Maya in the eye. “You don’t have to do this if you’re not totally convinced. Lasering ink off your skin is a real bitch, babe. You’d better be sure.” Quinn had always had an unflinching quality about her, even all those years ago, when she’d seduced Maya as though it was a well-practiced hobby to go after middle-aged women from the suburbs.

“I know.” Maya couldn’t keep the tension out of her voice, but she was allowed to be tense about this. This was a big thing. This tattoo, wasn’t simply permanently marking her skin; she was also saying to Quinn that she was in this for the long haul. Although, as Quinn had told her when she’d first suggested this, it wasn’t exactly like getting married either.

“Because divorce might actually be easier than getting a tattoo removed,” Maya had quipped.

Quinn had shaken her head, and said, “Our tattoos will match because we’re together. If something were to ever drive us apart, it doesn’t mean we have to get the tattoo removed. We’re not getting each other’s name tattooed on our bodies. The text can work perfectly well on its own.”

Quinn