The Bride (The Boss 3)

When he was out of the room, Mom said in a low voice, “He doesn’t want to get snowed in here with your mother.”

“Well, would you find the arrangement very comfortable? You guys would have alcohol poisoning in no time.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed and began stripping the linens.

“So, we needed something to loosen us up in the evenings. You put us both in a hell of a situation, Sophie.” Mom pulled bacon out of the pan and dabbed at it with a paper towel. “This is the microwave all over again.”

Once, when I was a kid, I’d accidentally set my grandmother’s microwave on fire when I used an old plastic cup to make hot chocolate. I had very calmly gone into the living room, sat down, and waited a full minute and a ruined microwave before I’d gotten the courage to casually tell her, “The kitchen’s on fire.”

Mom was right. This was exactly like that situation, only on a much weirder scale.

The truth was, I’d always had a problem telling people things I should have let them know. I’d done it before with Neil, when I’d found out someone was sabotaging Porteras. I knew I had to stop doing it.

“Does it help if I tell you I’m in therapy right now to get over that very issue?”

She gave me her I-don’t-have-time-for-your-bullshit look.

“Seriously. Neil and I almost broke up over this kind of thing. I’m working on myself. This is the last time it’s going to happen.” I scrolled through my mental inventory in a panic. Was there anything else I hadn’t told her?

Neil came back and Mom exchanged the phone for a mug of coffee, which he accepted gratefully. He took a sip. “Brent is going to call me back with an answer within the hour.”

“So, you’re all going to Norway?” Mom asked over the screeching of the sofa bed frame as I folded it away.

“Iceland,” Neil corrected her. “Reykjavik. Or, about forty minutes outside. My brother Runólf has a compound on a small private lake. I haven’t seen my brothers in…oh, five years now.”

My mom laughed and clicked off the stove burners. “Sounds like you and Sophie have a lot in common. I haven’t seen her in a year.”

I ignored her comment as I folded down the dinette table from the wall and retrieved the folding chairs that went with it.

“I do apologize for that. We’ll have to have you in New York sometime,” Neil said over the rim of his coffee mug. “Sophie and I are looking for a house at the moment.”

I cringed inwardly. How had I forgotten to mention that?

Mom looked from him to me, exhaling the vapor from her e-cigarette. “Sounds serious.”

Neil took a swallow of coffee. “I consider it so.”

I reached across the pass-through for the plate of bacon Mom held out. “So do I. We just went through a lot together this last year.”

“You two seem very happy.” Mom brought the scrambled eggs to the table and sat down. “I’m not going to say I’m thrilled with this, because I’m not. But we’re all adults here, and it’s not my place to tell the two of you what to do. So I’m just going to be grateful that my daughter found someone who loves her and makes her happy.”

“I’m glad.” Neil smiled, and it was the first genuine smile I’d seen out of him since my confession in the car on the drive up. “Because Sophie is one of the best parts of my life.”

Mom sighed and unnecessarily stubbed her e-cigarette on the tabletop out of habit. “Just see that you get her out here to see us more than once a year?”

* * * *

Our changed flight plan meant we had to leave my mom’s house by nine, so in a flurry of hugs and promising to visit again—as well as an awkward handshake for Neil—we were tearing our way down highway forty-one to Marquette. It was the first time I’d truly appreciated how good he was at driving.

I don’t know why it would surprise me, since he owned a car magazine. I’d been absolutely astonished when he’d taken me to his garage at a private track an hour outside of London and shown me the fleet of exotic cars he’d amassed over the years.

We arrived at the tiny airport just as the pilot was finishing up his pre-flight checks. As we walked up the stairway to the jet, Neil’s hand fell to my butt and he gave me a quick squeeze.

Oh, so it was like that.

“It occurs to me,” he murmured against my ear, “that you’ve never officially entered the mile high club.”

“You’re right,” I said with mock surprise. I was well aware of the opportunities we’d missed. Emma had travelled to New York with us on the flight from London. New York to Marquette had been riddled with turbulence, and the pilot had advised us to stay seated the entire time…not that creative things hadn’t been done under a blanket. We’d fooled around the first time I’d flown on his jet, but we’d never gotten a chance to go all the way.

“Are we going to be rectifying that on this flight?” I asked as I stepped inside.