Page 6 of Merry Little Wedding

“A freakingjet.” I look at him. “That’s not excessive.”

“You’re not scared of flying, are you?”

“No. It’s just…um.How? Why? There’s an airport like—”

“Airports are madness right now.” He doesn’t even glance at things as we get on the plane, just loads up the luggage like there isn’t all of this…woodeverywhere. And porcelain and other breakable things. And the creamiest tan leather seats I’ve ever seen. “In case you didn’t realize it,Missus Scrooge, it’s two days before Christmas. Need to use the ladies’ first?” he says, buckling in.

“I’m aware of the date. And no, thanks.” There’s a teeny-tiny aisle barely wide enough for one. A leather recliner on either side. Another one across from Boone. I sit in the seat directly across the paper-thin aisle from his, and a cup of coffee practically magics into existence in front of me.

“Cream and sugar, miss?” asks the flight attendant. Emily, her nametag says. She places a peppermint candy cane next to my coffee.

“No, thank you.” I smile.

“Coffee black?” Boone leans over and says, curiously.

“Like my soul.” I crack a smile, bringing the steaming mug to my lips.

He chuckles softly. “Would’ve taken you for a pumpkin spiced latte. Maybe something with chocolate,” his voice burrs.

“You would not.” I roll my eyes. Trying,failing, to stop grinning my lips off.

Boone shrugs. “Eh. That’s why I’m not a barista.”

“You’re…something,” I say under my breath, “else.”

The pilot lets us know we’re taking off soon. In under a minute the jet is tilting up into the sky. I shut down my eyes, holding onto the armrest until we’re level. I can feel Boone’s appreciative gaze on me. I packed a nice gown and heels for the wedding and tried to look cute in the meantime for the daytime travel and such. Boone said to dress for cold weather, hence the thick peacoat to wear over my more Florida-appropriate sundress and Converse shoes when we get off the plane. My ears start to pop as we gain altitude, and I bite down on the candy cane to clear them.

Bless you, flight attendant Emily.

When I peek over at Boone, his baby blues are more than just admiring my cheapo dress—they’re removing it. “Hey,” he murmurs. Fuck, that voice. I want to bite down on it like my candy cane. I bite the candy cane instead.

“Hi.”

He reaches over and touches my arm, creating a zing in places that haven’t felt azingin a very long time. I swallow, dryly.

“So where are we going? Is thisyourwedding?” The question leaves my mouth before I even knew I was concerned about that. “Oh good lord, don’t tell me—!”

“Your imagination is something,” Boone says, good-humored, with a slow, slow shake of his head. “It’s my sister’s wedding.”

“You needed a date that bad to your sister’s wedding?”

“I’m not desperate. And I don’t need you to pretend to be mydate, honey,” he clarifies. “I need you to be my girlfriend tonight. Tomorrow, too.”

“Speaking of, actually, who gets married on a Thursday?” It’s even weirder than Sunday.

“My family is quirky in all ways,” Boone huffs another one of those mirthless, rumbling laughs. “My plan is to get them to stop pestering me to come home and take over the family business, which they might actually leave me alone about, if they think I’m in love.” Family business. Must be somefamily business, if it half explains all the polished…everything…dripping around us.

Wait. We’ve got to do what now. Pretend to bein love?

“Is it a long shot?” I ask. “Them leaving you alone, I mean?”

“It is.”

“Won’t they wonder why I can’t just move to Chicago with you?”

“Can you?”

“No. I’m a marine biologist.”

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