Lost Track

Sabine Debois likes her wine pink and her life predictable. As a private tutor for the rich and famous, she doesn’t get starstruck. But when a tattooed espresso fiend saves her from death by sweater, she’s a little bit… grateful. That’s all. Just grateful.

Sunshine Capone just had the best album of his career, and then his girlfriend burned down his house. Well, his ex-girlfriend now. So he moved to Chicago to focus on his music and avoid the drama of relationships.

He should not be creating any excuse to hang out with the sweet teacher with the hazel eyes and bright smile. She doesn’t need his kind of confusion in her life.

But Sabine’s about to teach this superstar a thing or two about peace, love, and understanding.

Lost Track is a full-length contemporary romance and can be read as a standalone. Book #5 in the Common Threads series, Seduction in the City World, Penny Reid Book Universe.

PROLOGUE


DRAMA CONTINUES IN LONE STAR STATE

CelebX was first to report that Sunshine Capone’s multi-million-dollar 19,000 square-foot mansion was on fire. Several hours ago, firefighters and emergency responders were called to the rapper’s home as smoke filled the sky.
We can now confirm that multiple people were in the home when it caught fire and all were evacuated safely.
Police arrested Sunshine’s girlfriend, Nora, on charges of arson.
Nora Cannon is a social media brand influencer with over four million followers. There have been no new posts on her accounts since the fire.
She was booked at the county jail earlier today but has already posted bond.
CelebX reached out to her sponsors for comment but have not heard back.
Nora and Sunshine have been dating for two months but insiders say rumors of Sunshine’s numerous affairs made things at home volatile.
No one is talking when it comes to what’s next for the couple who met at a party thrown by Sunshine’s manager, where they were introduced by mutual friends.
This is the third time a woman who was dating Sunshine Capone has been arrested.
Click here to be taken to those articles.
Stay tuned to CelebX for updates on this developing story.



 
Chapter 1

Sunshine

SABINE


In retrospect, she should not have taken her sweater off.
She should have suffered in silence until she was home.
She was an adult after all. Self-control was a cornerstone of her brand.
Wait.
Did tutors have a brand?
Probably not in the modern sense.
It didn’t matter.
Because instead of waiting, she’d gone full toddler—tried to strip without a plan—and now she was in a pickle.
Hopefully Piper would be along shortly and she’d be rescued. Though being rescued by one of her students wasn’t exactly the most professional thing she could have happen, it was better than having to wander out into the streets of Avondale to find a stranger to cut her out of her sweater.
She tried to calm her breathing, even as perspiration began to run down her cheeks.
She would not panic.
It was a sweater. She could breathe just fine. She would not die here—trapped with her arms over her head and the super soft sweater she just had to wear that day stuck to her earrings.
At least she had worn a camisole under the sweater. That made it a little less scandalous.
This was a perfect example of why she needed to practice dressing up more often. Except maybe at home. With supervision.
The sweater had been a hand-me-down from her roommate Kara who was a foot taller and two cup sizes smaller than Sabine. It was an orange, cowl neck, form fitting chiffon beauty that had very little stretch.
Which hadn’t been a problem when she’d put it on that morning. In fact, she’d liked the way it hugged her body and showed off her curves. She’d been working out for more than a year and the sweater had fit *chef’s kiss* perfectly.
Paired with the navy skirt, wool tights, and ballet flats, she had looked like she’d walked out of Teachers of Autumn Magazine.
If that were a thing.
But shortly after lunch, she’d become aware of a light scratching between her shoulder blades. It felt like something between an itch and a poke, and the longer it went on, the more bothersome it became. No matter how she’d twisted and contorted her body, she couldn’t reach it.
By the time she made it to XY Studios for her last student of the day, she was heavily distracted by the bothersome sting. She’d been stopping in doorjambs and rubbing her back against corners all afternoon like a bear on a tree.
It had become the sole focus of her every thought.
Have you ever had something in a sock or your waistband that was relentless in its torture? Because that’s what this was.
At lunch it had been a nuisance, by the afternoon she was convinced it was trying to kill her.
So, when she’d entered the upstairs lounge where she was to meet the eighth grader and it was empty, she dropped her bag, took off her coat and tugged the sweater over her head.
But she’d been so hasty in her desire to remove the offending garment, she’d made the mistake of pulling the sweater over her head with both arms instead of one arm at a time. It caught under her armpits and stopped moving.
Thus, she was standing somewhere in the lounge with her arms stretched above her and the sweater bunched around her head. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t breathe. And she couldn’t move.
“Help,” she whispered to no one.
Again, the panic threatened to take over.
She wasn’t an overly anxious person. She liked to think of herself as fairly Zen.
But whatever piece of plastic or thread or glue that had tormented her all day long had driven away her sensibleness and she was now gulping for air, trapped in a jumper.
A prison of her own making.
New fear unlocked: small, confined spaces.
No.
Nope.
She would not die here.
Not like this and not this day.
The studio wasn’t devoid of human life. She’d passed at least two sound engineers on her way to the lounge.
Sure, she didn’t know their names, but she could ask them to help her. Maybe Nikki was working. Nikki seemed nice those two times they had almost interacted. Maybe she would rescue her.
She took a tentative step in the direction she hoped was the door. Another step.
Okay, so far, so good.
Another step and her hip bumped into the edge of the table.
Or was it the counter in the kitchenette?
She tried to rub her hip and butt along the edge to orient herself.
The sound of a door opening spun her around and she almost lost her balance.
“Hello?” she called, hearing the tremor in her voice.
“Hello?” a male voice replied and there was no mistaking the amusement in his tone.
She exhaled loudly and tried to walk toward his voice but collided with the table again.
“You are all turned around,” he said, coming closer. “Just wait.”
“Please help me,” she said. “I’m stuck and I can’t—” She wiggled her arms above her head uselessly. Her fingertips tingled. That couldn’t be good.
“What can I do to help?” he asked, now standing in front of her.
She hinged forward at the hips. “Can you pull the sweater off?”
Silence for a beat and then a deep breath.
He smelled like coffee and fresh air. She wondered which engineer this was. His voice didn’t sound like Johnny, the owner of the studio, and it definitely wasn’t Johnny’s younger brother Shawn because he would have just started laughing and wouldn’t have stopped.
“Okay, I’m going to have to touch you. Is that okay?”
“Yeah,” she replied, slightly confused by his statement. Because it was pretty obvious that if she’d asked him to help her, he was going to have to touch her.
But when cool fingers brushed against the exposed skin near her armpits, she flinched.
Oh, now that made sense.
He tugged on the fabric around her armpits and it didn’t budge.
“Hm,” he said to himself and she sensed him step back. “It’s really stuck.”
She bobbed her upper body in agreement.
Because, duh.
He stepped closer and tried again in a slightly different place.
Nothing changed.
“I don’t want to ruin your sweater,” he said, sounding distressed.
“And I don’t want to die dressed like a traffic cone,” she replied a little more hotly than she should have.
He chuckled and tugged at the sleeves over her head.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
“You do not have to apologize.” His voice moved like he was walking a circle around her. “Though I don’t think you look like a traffic cone. I actually saw you as one of those inflatable tube man things you see outside car dealerships.”
She laughed despite herself. “That’s not better.”
“You think if I pull straight up, we’ll end up with a finger trap situation? Because that’s what I’m afraid of.”
“I am very willing to risk it.”
“Okay.” He fiddled with the top of the sweater. “Stop me if it hurts.”
She braced.
The fabric tugged, pulled and smashed her face as he worked it off of her. She held her breath, like that would somehow ease the progression. The hem pinched and rolled over her armpits and then…relief.
She sagged forward and then cried out.
“Earring! Earring!” She moved her head with the sweater. Her hands, newly free, gripped his wrists. “Stop!”
He already had stopped. The moment she had cried out he froze.
She let go of him and dove her fingers beneath the loosened fabric to detangle her earrings.
“Okay,” she said, wincing in preparation for more pain.
But the pain was over.
The sweater came away and she took her first full breath in what felt like hours.
“Oh, thank you,” she said, finally getting a look at her rescuer.
Sleepy indigo eyes met hers, and the smile on his face crinkled the stem of the rose tattooed near his right eye.
Here was the thing about working with famous people and their kids, they were too often hypersensitive to people’s attention. She’d learned early on that most didn’t like to be stared at. And because they were hyper-aware of being watched, any kind of eye contact could feel like it was staring.
Rational?
No.
But she understood it enough that looking around them instead of at them was a safe option. At least until new expectations had been established.
So, it was very off-brand (again) for her to have full eye contact with a rock star.
She immediately looked down, but not before she’d clocked the dove tattoo near his hairline and the words “As Yourself” above his left eyebrow. Her gaze dropped to his neckline where a large black and gray tattoo of the sun on his throat was just barely visible from the collar of his gray hoodie.
Sunshine Capone.
So… not really a rock star.
But kind of.
Pop star?
He was more hip-hop, right?
Why was she trying to specify what kind of star he was?
A star was a star.
“Thank you,” she said again.
“Not a problem,” he replied, and his tone caused her eyes to jump back to his, even though it went against all her instincts. He was still smiling. “Are you okay?”
She nodded and chuckled at her own circumstances. “I am now, thanks to you.”
He handed her sweater back to her. She took it and rolled it into her hands, feeling like she should say something more.
He took a step back just as the door to the lounge opened again and Piper entered the room.
The raven haired thirteen-year-old tossed her bag on the table and removed her coat with a flourish. She scrunched her nose when her gaze landed on Sabine.
“What happened to you?” Her eyes flicked up to Sabine’s head.
Sabine rolled her lips inward and lifted her eyebrows. Because where to start, right? She tossed her sweater on the table and smoothed her hair down as best she could. “My sweater tried to kill me a moment ago, but I survived. How are you today?”
Piper eyed her like she wasn’t sure whether to believe her or not. Her brilliant blue eyes flicked to Sunshine Capone. “Shawn’s downstairs.”
“Sweet,” Sunshine replied. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something to Sabine but then he just shook his head, his lips twitching, and left the room.
Piper grumbled and pulled the chair out where she flopped. “I was hoping you wouldn’t be here.”
“Thanks.” Sabine hid her smile as she tucked her sweater into her bag, and took out her notebook and laptop. “I was looking forward to seeing you today as well.”
Piper didn’t just roll her eyes but her entire head. She straightened in the chair and wrestled her laptop out of the bag.
“We were assigned a stupid essay today.” Piper jumped into all the reasons it was unfair to ask her to write a three-page essay on her favorite travel memory and what a waste of time it was.
Sabine listened and then helped her make an outline.
She easily and gratefully transitioned into teacher mode, allowing her uncomfortable afternoon incident to fade into the background of her thoughts.
Ninety minutes flew by, and Sabine was surprised when she glanced at the window that overlooked the alley and it was dark outside.
“Am I your favorite?”
“Favorite what?”
“Favorite student.”
“You are definitely my favorite eighth grader.”
“I’m your only eighth grader, aren’t I?”
Sabine twisted her lips to keep from smiling. “You know I can’t answer that question.”
Piper rolled her eyes. “Where do I rank then? Like…among all your students. Where am I at?”
Sabine laughed because she really didn’t know how else to respond.
“It’s not a competition, Piper. I don’t rank any of you. Geez.”
Piper’s expression turned flat. “Not like that. I mean, how do I compare to the others?”
Sabine scrubbed a hand over her face, not caring that it would cloud her already cloudy makeup. If she even had any left after the sweater incident.
It was fine. This was her last student of the day; after this she was headed home anyway.
“When I ask questions like this it drops me in rank, doesn’t it?”
Sabine barked a laugh and slouched back in the chair.
If almost any other student asked these questions, she’d be worried about their self-esteem and other mental health concerns. But she’d been tutoring Piper for a few months now and she was familiar with the thirteen-year-old’s competitive streak.
She liked to know she was always improving. A common metric for knowing that, was to compare yourself to peers. Sabine knew adults who did that all the time.
It wasn’t an accurate measure of anything though.
“People learn at their own pace.”
“No, I know that. But how is my pace? Am I keeping up? Pulling ahead? Falling behind?”
“Piper.” Sabine patted the table between them. “I only compare your progress with you.”
Piper blinked at her. Clearly, she thought her tutor was an idiot.
Not the first time Sabine had been misunderstood.
Which was why she sat up again and leveled a look at the girl.
“Every brain is different. Every single one. The best way to measure your progress is by comparing where you were before. Which I do. Your grades are coming up and your scores improve every week.”
“But school measures everyone against each other,” Piper argued.
“Yes and no.” Sabine took a breath and forced the frown off her face.
Piper’s observations were mostly correct. But it wasn’t Sabine’s job to cultivate rebellion against the system in her students. Her job was to help them be successful at the system so they could leave it behind them forever.
“Education is a complicated beast and we can get into all that some other time. But right now, you need to finish the essay. That’s it. Just focus on this one goal.”
Piper was poised to argue again when the door opened.
Both of them turned their heads at the interruption.
Sometimes, when Sabine was working, she’d forget where she was.
Her childhood had consisted of chaotic interruptions on a continual basis and she’d trained herself to focus on her tasks. It developed from a survival tactic into a useful skill that kicked in without her being aware.
Such as when she was working.
While she’d been tutoring Piper James in a recording studio, all she’d focused on was the student.
So, when Sunshine Capone walked back into the lounge, she was momentarily disoriented. They had eye contact and her mind was flooded with the events of earlier and she blushed.
Not because he was famous but because she still felt stupid about how he’d found her.
Feeling stupid in front of a stranger was right up there with not wanting to get eaten by sharks on vacation.
And he’d caught her at the dumbest she’d been in a long time.
Behind Sunshine Capone was a face that was familiar to her and she immediately smiled.
“’Sup, Sabine,” Shawn Torres greeted. He approached them and rested his elbow on top of Piper’s head.
“Ugh. This guy,” Piper grumbled.
Which made Sabine snort because Piper adored Shawn, but always made a show of disliking him. Like she just couldn’t help it.
“Pipsqueak.” Shawn tussled her hair and Piper stiffened.
“Only Hannah gets to call me that.”
Sabine pursed her lips at their interaction.
They may not be related by birth, but the sibling chemistry was real. It reminded her of her own relationship with her brother.
Shawn left them to join Sunshine who’d not even paused on his way past them. From what Sabine could hear they were making espresso at the coffee bar, but she didn’t turn around to check. Instead, she watched Piper’s expression as it turned introspective and stayed on the guys.
After a minute, Sabine nudged Piper’s elbow with a pencil, getting her attention.
“What’s going on?”
Piper shrugged. “I don’t have any of what they have.”
Sabine glanced over her shoulder at the guys who had moved to the window overlooking the alley and scrunched her nose.
“Face tattoos and matching vintage tees?” Sabine faced Piper again and cocked an eyebrow. “Because I know a guy who can hook you up with both.”
Piper’s dark laugh made Sabine smile.
“Can you imagine? Hannah would lose her absolute sh—crap. No.” The thirteen-year-old sighed. “The music thing. I don’t have that.”
Sabine nodded. She understood that a little. It must be hard to be surrounded by music and a musician’s life (they were in a recording studio for crying out loud), and not lean that direction.
“We all have gifts. None of them are more or less important than the others.”
Piper forced a half smile. “You really think that?”
“I really do.”
And she did. People were awesome in their uniqueness.
As long as they used their powers for good and not evil anyway.
“And what’s my special gift?” Piper crossed her arms over her chest.
“Well, just going on the short time that I’ve known you, I’d guess that one of your gifts is athletics?”
Since that was the reason Sabine had been brought in to tutor Piper in the first place.
“Har har,” Piper deadpanned. But she uncrossed her arms and refocused on her essay. A little less melancholy on her beautiful face.
Sabine watched her work for a moment. She could partially imagine what Piper’s life was like as the younger sister of the world’s most (in)famous pop star and having to live most of her current life in a protected bubble.
It couldn’t be easy.
But when Sabine considered all the details surrounding Piper’s circumstances, Piper was doing incredibly well.
Sabine flinched when the alarm on her watch buzzed.
Crap. Time to go.
She began to pack her things.
“I have to go. I want you to finish this essay the best you can—”
“Without you here?” Piper’s voice was laced with annoyed panic.
“You’ll do great,” Sabine reassured her, holding her gaze as she spoke. “Send it to me and I’ll go over it tonight before I go to bed. Then we can touch it up tomorrow.”
Piper rolled her eyes but didn’t produce any new grumblings.
Sabine zipped her backpack closed and shrugged on her coat.
“Where to now?” Shawn called across the lounge.
“That’s classified,” she replied, and Shawn grinned.
She accidentally (really!) looked directly at Sunshine and he happened to be looking at her. Their eyes connected. He smiled, making the rose tattoo near the corner of his eye crinkle.
Hm. Well, maybe he wasn’t one of those who minded being acknowledged.
She sent a low wave across the room and hurried from the lounge.
It was Kara’s birthday. And even though her best friend had said she didn’t want to do anything for her birthday, Sabine had still ordered two Marilyn’s—red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting and edible glitter—from Kara’s favorite gluten free bakery. They were gorgeous and so rich that they were very much a special occasion dessert.
But she had to pick them up before the bakery closed.
She was just about out the door when she was stopped by a voice calling her name.
Not just any voice, but one of the most famous voices in the world.
She turned to see Hannah Lee James aka Ashton James, world famous pop star, striding toward her in that badass, cool as hell way that seemed to come naturally to her. Two months into their arrangement and Sabine still wasn’t used to it.
Which said more about Hannah than Sabine.
Sabine had been employed by a variety of rich and famous people over the years. She had a box of NDAs at home so full that she could use it as a stepstool.
She was (mostly) unfazed by celebrities.
But Hannah carried an energy with her that caught her breath and made her fingers tingle.
Sabine was pretty sure it was because of all the “celebrities” she’d met over the years, Hannah was exactly who she appeared to be. There was no pretense, no façade.
Which were equal parts enthralling and terrifying.
“How are things?” Hannah asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She jerked her chin back the way Sabine had come. “With Piper?”
“Good.” Sabine tugged her earlobe, her earring hole still sore from earlier. “She knows the material. She just hates doing it. But I have some ideas to incentivize her.”
Hannah’s icy blue eyes studied her, and she finally heaved a sigh.
Sabine recognized that look and secretly she loved it. Sometimes parents or guardians were annoyed at the idea of needing a tutor. They thought their kid should just “know” how to do school successfully. Getting a tutor was used like a punishment meant to humiliate the student into “getting their shit together.”
Hannah was different. It had been apparent in their first meeting. All she wanted to do was make sure Piper had what she needed to succeed. And she would go to the ends of the earth to find it.
Which made Sabine’s job that much more delightful.
“What can I do?” Hannah asked.
Sabine’s lips curved up and her heart warmed. “You’re already doing it.”
“Right.”
“Right,” Sabine replied. She held Hannah’s eyes for a beat, and then left the warmth of the recording studio for the frosty air of a Chicago evening.
Well, of Avondale.
Which was basically Chicago but not really.
She jogged to her car and not for the first time lamented never installing a remote start. Three out of four seasons she’d convince herself she didn’t need it, but then winter would arrive like a mugger in an alley.
She fired up the engine of the Toyota 4Runner and shivered her way out of Avondale down to West Loop.
“Whoever invented heated seats deserves a thank you note,” she murmured. “And maybe a fruit basket.”
She stopped at the bakery and picked up her order, and then hurried the last few blocks home.
Well, hurried as much as Chicago traffic on a Wednesday evening would allow.
By the time she pulled into the underground parking garage in her building, the heat was blazing and she forgot (again) that she wanted to get remote start installed.
The moment she stepped off the elevator onto her floor she heard it.
The oppressive and enthusiastic banjo playing from the loft across the hall.
“Not tonight, ya weirdos,” she muttered, unlocking her door.
The loft she shared with her best friend Kara was everything they had imagined when they made all their big plans.
The top floor of a 1920s industrial building that had been restored and converted into condos and lofts. Complete with exposed brick walls, Bluetooth, granite counter tops, floor to ceiling windows, and hardwood floors.
Basically, it was Swanksville.
Did they need it?
No.
But it was the dream.
And both of them had learned a long time ago that dreams weren’t handed to you. If you wanted them, you had to make them happen.
And so they had.
The only part that wasn’t in the dream was the banjo playing vampires that had moved in at the first of the month.
And it wasn’t even so much that they played banjo.
It was that they played it so badly.
And all. Night. Long.
Hence Sabine’s belief they were actually vampires with a very specific torture fetish. One where they slowly drove their victims crazy with bad banjo. And then they swooped in for the kill.
“But today is not that day,” she said. She set her bakery box on the butcher’s block and pulled out her phone. She called up her Taylor Swift playlist and hit play.
The music pumped through the Bluetooth speakers throughout the loft and drowned out the undead Foggy Mountain Boys.
She took off her coat, stashed her purse, and set about making Kara’s favorite dinner and poured herself a glass of wine. A half hour later Kara came through the door.
Sabine was in the middle of her “Fearless (Taylor’s Version)” solo, using the ladle as her microphone when Kara joined her.
Kara used the wine bottle as her mic, and they danced around the kitchen singing to one another until the song was complete.
“Gimme that.” Sabine took the bottle from Kara and poured a glass for her bestie.
Kara sighed and took the wine. “What’s the occasion?”
Sabine eyed her, not even a little bit fooled. “Did you really think I’d forget your birthday?”
Kara’s cheeks tinged pink and she shrugged, taking a sip of the wine.
“I just didn’t want to… You know.”
“I know, babe. And this is not me pressuring you to celebrate.” Sabine touched her wine glass to Kara’s. “I’m happy you were born, and I wanted you to know.”
Kara’s eyes glossed over and she hugged Sabine.
They held one another for a beat, just letting the moment be what it was. No need to explain or pretend anything away. Their decade long friendship had been filled with more than most people experience in a lifetime.
From the day they had laid eyes on each other in ninth grade, they’d been soulmates. Kara, the tall, blonde, perky cheerleader, had been the exact opposite of Sabine who was short, dark haired, and bossy.
It was a match made in a very weird part of heaven.
And it was the most important relationship of Sabine’s life.
So of course, she wasn’t going to let Kara’s birthday just go by.
“It smells amazing in here,” Kara remarked, stepping back and looking into the pot Sabine had boiling on the stovetop.
“Your favorite, sausage potato soup,” Sabine replied. She went back to chopping her potatoes which was what she’d been doing before she got sidetracked by the music.
“You are my favorite person in the entire world.” Kara kissed Sabine on the cheek and danced away.
“You only say that because I keep feeding you.” Sabine smirked into the pot. “How was your day, dear?”
“Well, for starters, the five-year-old that reminds me daily of my place in the world told me he loved me. And then he asked if both of my hips were original or if I’d had them replaced yet. You know, like his grandmother.”
Sabine chuckled, adding the bay leaf.
While Sabine tutored famous people’s kids, Kara was their nanny.
That stepstool of NDAs Sabine had? Kara had one to match.
It was a good thing they could talk to each other, otherwise their social life would be way more difficult.
Kara sat down at the table and propped her chin on her fist. Her wide green eyes stared off into the distance and Sabine knew what was going to come out of her beautiful best friend’s mouth.
“Maybe I should call John.”
Sabine rolled her lips inward and focused on stirring the ingredients.
Kara exhaled a loud sigh and flopped her head onto the table.
“Or,” Sabine suggested gently, “You could not call John.” She waggled her eyebrows when Kara rolled her head to the side to look at her. She was rewarded with a smile.
“You make a great case.”
Sabine shrugged because it was true. John wasn’t that great. But he had proposed to Kara six months ago with an enormous diamond and so the struggle was real.
He just wasn’t anything that Kara wanted in a life partner. It would have never worked.
“I just don’t want to die alone.”
“You are twenty-five, not ninety-five. And you won’t be alone. Because you’ll always have me.” Sabine batted her eyelashes.
Kara laughed, sat up and pushed her hair back. “And what happens if I do meet the man of my dreams?”
“We’ve talked about this.” Sabine closed her hands around the bowl of her wine glass. “You’re going to make him build me a room above your garage so I have a place to grow old.”
Kara’s deep laugh made Sabine smile.
“This birthday is already ten times better than last year,” Kara said. “Thank you.”
That’s because last year Kara’s longtime boyfriend, Adler, had dumped her. On her birthday. To which Kara had responded by canceling all future birthdays.
It was also how she’d ended up with John for all of three months before the rebound proposed.
It hadn’t been difficult to top last year.
The playlist switched to a lower volume song and the banjos could be heard through the door.
“Maybe I spoke too soon.” Kara glared in the general direction of the noise.
And then the banjos were joined by the sound of vigorous foot stomping.
A growl rumbled out of the tall, lanky blonde, and Sabine reacted by dropping to the floor.
Kara cried out in surprise. She ran around the island to Sabine’s side.
“Oh my God, are you okay? What happened?” Kara dropped to her knees, eyes wide and concerned.
Sabine blinked at her. “It’s a hoedown, right? Am I doing it wrong? I’m doing it wrong, aren’t I?”
Kara snorted and giggled and collapsed on top of Sabine, laughing into her shoulder.
“Okay, help me up. I have to check the potatoes.”
They returned to standing and Kara refilled their wine glasses.
“How about your day? Anything cool happen to you?” Kara asked.
Sabine hummed as she thought about Sunshine Capone’s dark blue eyes and the rose tattoo on his face that crinkled when he smiled.
“You know, the usual. Proteges, snarky teenagers, I was rescued from being strangled to death by my own sweater by a rock star.”
Kara chuckled. “We have the weirdest life.”
“But at least we have each other.”
“Forever and ever, babe.”