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Mia gasped out loud, finally finding the contract at the back of the pages.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” she choked, looking at it, then at me.
I shook my head and pointed to the business card clipped to the contract.
“My agent wasn’t kidding,” I told her with raised eyebrows.
“I can’t believe you did this!” she yelled, carefully putting the papers away before she threw herself into my arms.
“I didn’t do anything,” I told her, laughing. “Your book is good. It sold itself.”
“You’re incredible,” she breathed, then kissed the hell out of me, which I happily accepted.
“I love you so much,” she said, tears of happiness streaking down her face.
“What the hell is the racket!” Mother said loudly, making an appearance from her borrowed room upstairs.
I gave a tortured moan before hugging Mia tighter as I yelled over her shoulder.
“It’s the sound of happiness and love, Mother. You’d want none of it.”
“You’ve become a snarky boy,” she hissed, coming slowly down the stairs.
“We’ll talk about it more tonight,” I promised Mia in a whisper.
She nodded and backed away, wiping up her eyes.
“I still can’t believe you’d get married again,” Mother said, giving us a dismissive glance. “And to such a child.”
“We’ve talked about this,” I said sternly, putting my fucking foot down. “You may not insult my future wife in her own home.”
“You know your father would never approve,” she countered, as if I hadn’t said anything.
“How about I send you back to New York?” I asked, lifting a brow. “Since you’re so miserable here, I’m sure you’ll be happier at home for Christmas.”
“Nonsense. I’m not missing out on a holiday with my grandchildren. It’s about time I got to see them without their wild mother running around. At least this one has some grace to her.”
That was almost a fucking compliment.
I turned to Mia with a grin, but she was still frowning.
Leaning in, I whispered into her ear, “I think she’s starting to like you.”
Mia gave me a disbelieving look, then went into the kitchen, probably to grab some lunch.
“Want me to make something for you too?” she asked, looking at me with a weary smile.
I knew having my mother around so often was a huge cramp in what should have been a honeymoon phase, but she’d been a good sport since she’d moved in three weeks ago. Only one more week to go and Mother would be on her way home.
“Sure,” I agreed. “But let me help you.”
She bumped her hip against mine, then giggled.
“I still can’t believe you,” she said, grinning like crazy.
“Get used to it,” I told her. “I’m a crazy son of a bitch.”
Mia laughed at me, bumped her hip into mine again, then went to open the fridge.
