Chelle gave him a playful shove. “You will pay for that one.”
“Bring it on,” Mason said with a laugh.
David groaned.
All smiles, Lucy hugged him while watching Chelle and Mason. “Our friends are crazy, but I love them.”
David kissed the top of Lucy’s head. “Me too.”
Mason handed the envelope over to David and said, “I heard you didn’t have plans for your honeymoon yet. I have a yacht ready and waiting in Galveston with instructions to tour the Caribbean for two weeks.”
Mason made a face. “There’s only one thing you should know. I meant to change the name of it, but haven’t had a chance to yet. It’s called Little Fucker. It was a joke from when I was younger. I could see if I can have something done fast if it’ll be a problem.”
“Little Fucker?” David repeated, remembering the toy that Lucy had affectionately, officially given that nickname to the second time they’d used it. He winked at Lucy. Life had a way of circling back, and this time with a wicked sense of humor. He liked it. “Sounds like our kind of yacht.”
Lucy blushed, but she agreed with a naughty smile that meant she knew what he was thinking and completely agreed.
Acknowledgments
I am so grateful to everyone who was part of the process of creating Taking Charge. Special thanks to the following:
My very patient beta readers. You know who you are. Thank you for kicking my butt when I need it.
My editors: Karen Lawson, Janet Hitchcock, Marion Archer, and Krista Stroever.
My Roadies for making me smile each day when I log on to my computer. So many of you have become friends. Was there life before the Roadies? I’m sure there was, but it wasn’t as much fun.
My husband, Tony, who is a saint—simple as that. I don’t know how I’d meet a deadline without him.
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