The Bride (The Boss 3)

Mom just drunkenly pointed again and staggered off to her room.

“I’ll show you where the bathroom is. You can take your conta

cts out while I make up the bed,” I said with a laugh, and I grabbed Neil’s hands to pull him off the couch.

I’d just unfolded the bed and was tucking in the final corner of the fitted sheet when he came back in a t-shirt and plaid cotton sleep pants. He picked up a pillow and tossed it to the head of the bed. “You know, it occurs to me that I have never once in my life slept on a sofa bed.”

“What?” That just seemed absurd.

“In college, I slept on a lot of sofas, but not sofa beds. This is a new experience for me.” He looked pleased at that, so I had to laugh.

“Well, you did take me to London and Paris and you flew me around in your fancy jet and bought me ridiculous amounts of jewelry, so I thought it was time to return the favor,” I said with a mock-sigh. “Nothing but the best for my boyfriend.”

“Well, if we’re opening up to new experiences, I’ll get into bed and you can turn off the lights for a change,” he laughed.

We were lying in the dark for all of two minutes before the shine of the new experience wore off.

“There is a very sharp bar digging into my back,” Neil groaned.

I lifted my head. “Why don’t you move then?”

“Well, I can’t bloody well move, can I? One creak from this rusty deathtrap and your mother will think I’m out here mounting you.” But he flopped over onto his stomach anyway, while I muffled my giggles into my pillow.

“This feels so weird,” I whispered, nudging his elbow. “I feel like I’m doing something bad, having a boyfriend over. I only ever did that once, when my mom was working a night shift. I was terrified she would come home and find me and the guy together. But that made it kind of hot.”

“If you’re feeling nostalgic, I can clumsily finger you while talking about my band,” he mumbled into his pillow.

“Who told you about A.J.?” I squeaked in amused outrage.

“Your aunt Marie was more than willing to humiliate you behind your back while you were in the bathroom.” He hooked his ankle over mine. “Happy Christmas, Sophie.”

I leaned over for a kiss. “Merry Christmas, Sir.”

CHAPTER THREE

After the weirdness of our first night in town, our visit was surprisingly stress-free. I showed Neil around what small amount of town there was, and we borrowed Mom’s snowmobile so I could take him out on the trails. It felt good to be home and somewhat back to normal after my long year in London.

On our last day at Mom’s, we woke to the sound of aggressive scrambled egg making.

I lifted my head from Neil’s back and squinted through the split wall of the kitchen. “Mom? What are you doing?”

“I’m making breakfast.” Though the hands on my old Hello! Kitty wall clock said it was only seven-thirty, Mom already wore a full face of makeup. She never let strangers see her sans eyeliner, and she’d even made me sneak lipstick into the recovery room after her gall bladder surgery.

I rubbed my eye—definitely not perfectly lined and beautifully mascaraed—and sat up. Neil stirred beside me, blinking, and said, “For a moment, I forgot where I was.”

“You’re at the North Pole, judging by the weather report,” Mom said. “Sorry to wake you up so early, but I thought you might want to get on the road before the snow comes.”

“Snow?” Neil reached for his glasses on the end table and slipped them on. “I hope we can still fly out this evening.”

“We’re supposed to get a foot of snow between three and ten tonight,” Mom said, turning to flip bacon in the pan.

“Perhaps I should call and ask for a revised flight plan?” Neil asked apologetically. “I don’t wish to tear you away from your family, but—”

“We don’t want to get snowed in, either,” I finished for him. “I totally understand.”

“Here.” Mom tossed Neil the cordless handset, and he fumbled to catch it. Our cell phone reception was spotty up here. “You can use my bedroom.”

“Thank you.” He got up and moved cautiously through the furniture that had been rearranged to accommodate the sofa bed.