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Signed, Sealed & Delivered

Signed, Sealed & Delivered

a childhood friends-to-lovers, sex education, nostalgic prequel novella

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This vintage romantic comedy novelette tells the story of the sweet childhood friendship and steamy teenage affair between vivacious Lucy Minola and soulful Ben Porter and is a prequel to Forget About Me.

Book Description

★★★★★ "Signed, Sealed & Delivered is short and sweet. And steamy. And scorching. And silly. And somber. And nearly perfect. Scenes and situations are an exquisite balance of humor, desire, life choices, and some truly witty comments and descriptions you do not want to miss." - Sally, Goodreads

It seemed like a good idea at the time...

He’s my brother’s best friend and I’ve known him forever. Even better, he’s home for the summer while my brother isn’t.

I'm going to lose my virginity before I leave for college. I’ve done the research: The Joy of Sex, Fear of Flying, all of Danielle Steele’s books. Now I just need to convince Ben to be my lab partner in the “Intro to Good Sex” course I've designed.

And, like, make sure I don't fall in love in the process.

It's back to the 1980’s in this prequel to USA Today bestselling author Karen Grey's Boston Classic series, where the setting may be retro, but falling in and out of love hasn’t changed.

Look inside

LUCY

I’m late. And it’s raining. Only my third day at my first real job and I’m late.

With the rain and my sweat, I’m getting soaked in both direc‐ tions as I run—well, walk fast—to the bus stop. Not that the animals care, but I have a full day of cleaning cages and sweeping floors and scrubbing exam tables ahead. Damp pits and crotch on top of that? Double your pleasure, double your fun.

Yippee.

Fighting with my mom isn’t a great way to start the day, either. Over food, as usual. Her trying to stuff me with food when I so obviously need to diet.

Wait. Is someone calling my name? Pausing my Walkman, I try to remove the headphones, but they get stuck in my dork-a- licious hair. I don’t see anyone on the sidewalk behind me but —shit—there’s my bus. Naturally, I’m halfway between stops. I’ll have to sprint to even have a chance at making it.

“Lucy!” Okay, that was definitely my name coming from the van double-parked just ahead. Hopefully not someone planning to kidnap me.

Oh, man. Not a kidnapper. It’s Ben’s dad’s shop van. And that sounded like Ben.

Wowzers. Just the thought of seeing him and my stupid heart is wigging out.

I can’t just stand here, so, one eye on the bus, which is now waiting at the intersection, I jog over to the van.

He’s backlit, but it’s definitely Ben. I haven’t seen him since Christmastime, when he was home from Vassar, but I’d recognize that lanky body and crazy, spiky hair anywhere.

“Ben!” I check on the bus, still idling at the red light. “Hey, I—” “Hey, Lucy, what’re you—”
I wave a hand in the air, like a total dork. “I’m sorry, but I’m late and I’m about to miss the bus, but—”

“Where are you going?”


“To work.”

He shrugs. “You want a ride?”

“Oh, you don’t have to—” Moving cars draw my eye. “Well, if you really don’t mind.” I point down the street. “That was my bus.”

“Of course, I don’t mind. You can give me the skinny on what’s up with your family.” He leans across and opens the passenger door. “Where are we going?”

When I give him the address of the animal hospital in Somerville where I’m working for the summer, he shrugs. “I’m headed to a lumberyard over that way, anyway.”

I hesitate, even as the rain picks up. “For real? I’m kind of soaking wet here.”

“For realz. It’s not like I’ve got leather seats or anything. Hop in.”

I can’t help but return his smile. And it’s my real smile, too, not the polite one. Ben has always had that effect on me. Like he sees me and accepts me just as I am. Heaving myself up into the van, however, I feel self-conscious. Graceful and light, I am not.

He doesn’t seem to notice. As soon as I close the door, he puts the van in gear and pulls out into the heavy Mass Ave traffic. “So, working for a vet. Are you still thinking about being one?”

“I think so. If my grades are good enough.”

He glances at me briefly, an expression I can’t quite read in his eyes. Attention back on the road, he shakes his head. “I can’t believe you’re eighteen.”

I shift in the seat, feeling totally grody. Why couldn’t he have offered me a ride when I had a cute outfit on? May as well laugh it off. “Yeah, you’ll probably always think of me as Tony’s fat little sister.”

“Lucy,” he snaps, like I’m a puppy who just peed on the floor. “What?”

He shakes his head, eyes on the road. “Nothing. It’s just... that’s not how I think of you.”

He doesn’t elaborate as he shifts gears and handles the steering wheel. Surreptitiously studying him, I can’t help but notice how his body has changed. No longer the pudgy little boy that followed my brother everywhere nor the scrawny teen that my mother tried to fill up with food, he has biceps that actually bulge. His shoulders have broadened, and his thighs are muscu‐ lar. He’s not buffed out like Sylvester Stallone in Rocky or anything. It’s more like he’s come into focus. Everything about him is sharper. His face is more angular, too.

His lips, though? They’re full and soft. Lips made for kissing.




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