“I was nervous to tell you,” he says bashfully.
“You? Nervous?” I scoff. He ignores me.
“My brother is bringing them here for me. He’s flying with them.”
“Brother?” I ask. He has a brother? My Uncle coughs politely, trying to remind me there’s an audience.
“He’s still not a client, is he?” My brother asks in confusion. I almost say yes until I feel Soren’s fingers slide across my thigh and squeeze. I squeal in shock, and everyone looks at me bug-eyed.
“Of course, he’s not.” I chuckle nervously.
“How did he go from client to husband?” My mom asks. Well, he killed my fucking date and told me I had to marry him.
“Right, well, um.” They say the best lies stay closest to the truth. “I couldn’t get him out of my head after the first appointment.”
“Can’t blame her,” my aunt says. I notice she’s drinking wine, and her cheeks are rosy enough to indicate she’s not on her first glass.
“And I knew that was unprofessional, so I redownloaded my dating app.”
“Ugh, those things are terrible,” my sister-in-law says.
“Yeah,” I agree, thinking about the mess that was. “Well, I was swiping, thinking I needed to start dating again so I could stop thinking about my patients.”
“Dating,” my brother says with air quotes. I shoot him a deathly glare.
“And Soren was on there?” My aunt asks, leaning closer with rapt attention to my story.
“No, but someone who looked like him. I didn’t think about much more than that when I swiped right,” I admit. Soren chokes on his meatball.
“I didn’t know that,” he wheezes once he’s finished coughing. Ugh.
“Anyway, it was a terrible date, and I was trying to figure out how to shake him loose, but he wasn’t having it. Then Soren showed up.” The table gasps.
“To the date?”
“Yes, by chance,” I say.
“Did he beat up the guy?” My aunt asks with a dreamy look. “He looks like he could kill a guy.” A hysterical laugh comes barking out my throat. Everyone looks alarmed.
“This guy? No way. He’s a teddy bear. Harmless. I mean, look at him.” Everyone looks at the six-foot-four Nordic nightmare. “Incapable,” I rasp before grabbing hold of Soren’s glass of apple cider and knocking it back.
“Good lord,” I wheeze. My eyes water. He was drinking straight scotch.
“So yeah, then we got married,” I rush out. The liquor hits me fast since I chugged the damn thing. “He asked me at a tree farm.” Suddenly, another glass of scotch shows up in front of me,courtesy of my mom. Oh god, she’s getting me drunk, so I get loose lips.
I grab hold and knock it back.
“A tree farm?” She asks. “Where’s the tree?”
“In the garage with all the presents.” I laugh again. Soren attempts to peel the glass from my hand, but I quickly throw the rest back.
“We should put it up for y’all. You must have been distracted with the marriage andother things.” I stare at my sister-in-law. She’s talking about sex. Everyone knows it because they’re all looking at each other in humor, remembering the way I answered the door.
“We haven't had—” Soren’s had slaps over my mouth before I can insist we haven’t fucked.
“You all look tired. How long is it from the beach?” He asks politely.
“It’s about three and a half hours,” my mother says.
