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Sophie smiles faintly. “How many trees does a person need?”
“To be fair, we have a lot of rooms.”
“Well, I hope you recycle them after you take all the tinsel and stuff off. Christmas trees have lots of uses once we’re done using them for the holiday season. They can help fisheries, be used to rebuild sand dunes and riverbanks, or they can just be chopped up and used as mulch.”
To be honest, I have no idea what happens to our trees after Christmas. “You’d have to ask the housekeeper,” I tell her.
She shoots me a look to let me know she isnotimpressed. “I will,” she says primly. “If you’re going to kidnap me, then I’m going to make sure you’re disposing of your Christmas trees responsibly.”
I smirk. “That seems like a fair trade-off.”
“Sure, foryou,” she murmurs, but her voice lowers as we enter a room where we aren’t the only occupants.
In the main living area, we find the lights dimmed and my mom and dad on the couch in front of the fire.
Mom is curled up next to Dad with his hand on her waist. She pops up when she realizes I’m home, then straightens a little more when she sees I brought a guest.
“Richard, honey, Silvan has a friend with him,” she says, trying to peel his hand off her waist.
Dad’s hand doesn’t budge. He’s enjoying a nice cognac and cuddling with his wife, and I’m damn sure not going to interrupt it. At her behest, he glances over at us. “So I see.”
“Mom, Dad, this is Sophie. She’ll be organizing our Christmas tree disposal this year.”
Beside me, I hear Sophie groan, “Oh my god,” and I can’t help grinning.
Mom blinks, confused.
Dad cocks an eyebrow. “Bit early for a consultant in that particular area, isn’t it?”
“He’s kidding,” Sophie says.
I open my mouth to tell them she’s actually my girlfriend, but despite our playful banter just a moment ago, Sophie decides to narc on me.
“Your son has actually kidnapped me a little bit. If you could help me out, I’d like to go home.”
“How do you kidnap someone a little bit?” Mom inquires, sounding merely curious. “Is this another joke?”
I grab Sophie’s waist and tug her close, seeing the need to get out of here quickly. “Yeah, Mom, it’s a joke. Don’t mind her. We’re going up to my room. Sophie’s spending the night.”
“I’m not kidding,” Sophie says. My warning grip on her waist tightens, but she keeps talking. “I really do want to go home.”
“Very funny, baby,” I say, grabbing her arm and turning her in the direction I want to go, my other hand still at her waist. “We’re in love,” I assure them.
“No,” Sophie says, looking back at them. “No, we are not.”
“Beauty, brains,anda tenacious sense of humor,” I say, shaking my head. “Surely, you can see why I’m so taken with her.”
“Your son has beenstalkingme, and I am not here of my own free will.”
I drag Sophie out of the room, shooting her a look as I do. “Remember when I told you I’d prefer if you didn’t do that?”
“Yes. I paid it as much heed as you do when I tell youIdon’t prefer things to happen,” she answers.
Sighing, I pull her closer and haul her toward the stairs.
She’s such alovelypain in the ass.
She doesn’t say much as I haul her up the stairs, but I can feel the tension in her body when she realizes she’s been this way before. Her alarm grows when we come to the ballroom doors and her gaze darts to me, but I don’t return it.
