Page 17 of Brewing Up a Bad Boy

“Absolutely not. You’ve done enough. I mean it, Mum.”

Her mum didn’t look happy with that but finally nodded. “Okay, but if you change your mind...”

“I will definitely let you know.”

“Want me to pick you up from the airport?”

“I’m not sure. Alistair’s taken care of all the travel arrangements. That’s why I sent the email. Let me check with him and get back to you.”

“Am I at least going to see you while you’re here?”

“I...I planned to make the trip very short. I didn’t plan on going at all. Could we do dinner on Sunday before I fly out?”

“Of course.”

Talking to her mum soothed her nerves. Seeing her parents would give her some extra strength to deal with Alistair’s family while she was in England. Especially since Sera, Liberty and Merle would all be back in Maine without her.

Five

Poppy hated travel. There was something nerve-racking about the entire process of going through security. Like she knew she wasn’t carrying contraband, but her pits were sweating as if she were a drug mule making her first run. It was ridiculous. She knew she’d decanted every liquid into properly sized containers, but as she got closer to the security checkpoint, she still worried she hadn’t removed every restricted thing from her handbag.

“You okay? You’re breathing heavy.”

Glancing at Alistair, who looked calm and cool as he shouldered his Louis Vuitton duffel bag while wearing sweats and a T-shirt, she rolled her eyes. Of course he did. Her hair, which she’d taken the time to straighten, had already started frizzing thanks to the humidity on the way to the airport in Bangor. They were on an early flight that connected in JFK before heading to London.

He hadn’t shaved and had stubble on his cheeks and jaw, but his thick hair was nicely styled. She inhaled his citrusy, fresh scent, which carried notes of grapefruit, tangerine, coriander and bergamot. She could dissect the scent because she spent so much time around leaves, oils and essences when she blended tea.

Also it had lingered on her clothes after that impulsive embrace the other night.

“Yeah, it’s all Gucci.” Except it was about as Gucci as that knockoff belt she’d gotten at Primark with two linking circles where the Gs should be.

“Remember that first time I took you on the company jet?” he asked.

She did. One comment that she’d never been to Milan, and he’d whisked her off. They’d skipped two days of class. The jet had been... Well not like this kind of traveling.

Her heart had skipped a beat or two when they’d gotten on the luxury plane with the long couch on one side. He’d held her hand as they fastened their seat belts and took off. He’d proposed to her on that trip. In the Navigli district near a picturesque canal. That was...perfect. Too perfect, it turned out, but at the time, she’d been swept off her feet.

“So different from this. I’m actually surprised you didn’t bring it here. I mean, this was totally a business trip for you.”

“I told you, I’m not officially working for the company,” he said.

“Uh, I guess I thought leave of absence was something else. What’s that about?” she asked, noticing that they were next to place their carry-on items in the security bins.

Tossing her bag of liquids in first and then the rest of her stuff. She moved on to pass through the metal detector. Alistair had distracted her, and she wasn’t even nervous now. Though shewaswearing two toe rings and a belly-button piercing that she’d gotten on a dare when she’d been in sixth form.

Should she have removed them? Too late now.

The security agent assured her that she’d be fine. All that energy for nothing. She collected her stuff and watched as Alistair was pulled over for additional screening. She grabbed his bag when it came through the scanner and stood off to the side to wait for him.

“All of your worrying, and I’m the one who got stopped,” he said. “Ready for breakfast?”

“I don’t think anything is open yet,” she said. “I packed some banana-nut loaf if you want a slice. If we can find a place with hot water, I have coffee sachets too.”

“That sounds great. The lounge should have some. Let’s go.”

She’d forgotten about the lounge. She hadn’t bothered looking at her ticket either, but she suspected he hadn’t booked them in economy. They found a place in the lounge—where they did have food—but she stubbornly ate the banana loaf, as did Alistair, after bringing them both coffees. She wanted to refuse the coffee on principle but freshly brewed was so much better than the instant she’d packed. Hers had two sugars and a splash of two percent milk in it. Just the way she made it for herself.

It wasn’t a big deal that he remembered the way she liked her morning java, but she felt that warmth in her stomach all the same. “Thanks.”

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