The Mirror (The Lost Bride Trilogy #2)

She wore stone-gray jeans, a light sweater in popping pink.

Sonya shoved out of the car, felt her eyes sting as her mother threw her arms around her.

“Oh, I missed you. Missed you, missed you.” Sonya burrowed in. “I didn’t know how much until right this second.”

“My baby. I’m so glad to see you, really see you.” When she drew back, Winter’s hazel eyes were damp. “Oh, and you look so good.”

“I want some.”

“Cleo.” Winter turned to embrace her. “I’m so happy you’re here. You’re both here. Let me get a good look at—Oh! You both look so good! I can’t complain when I see how good Maine looks on the pair of you. My girls!”

She pulled them both in for another hug. “Let’s get your things inside. I want to hear everything about everything.”

“We FaceTimed two days ago, Mom.”

“That’s different. Oh! The displays for your presentation tomorrow. I want to see them. I want to see everything.”

When they hauled a load inside, everything was so wonderfully familiar. The cozy living room where her mother had cleaned out the fireplace for warm weather and placed candles, her father’s painting over the mantel—the path through the misty woods. Spring flowers bright and happy in a vase.

And she sniffed the air.

“Something smells amazing, but I told you not to cook.”

“You don’t get to be the boss of me until I’m old and decrepit, and even then you’ll have a fight on your hands. It’s lemon chiffon cake.”

“My very favorite.”

“Right there with you,” Cleo said.

“We’re going to have a nice spring salad with pretzel rolls first. And mimosas.”

“I just moved ahead of you,” Cleo claimed, “but if I don’t pee pretty damn quick, I’m going to disgrace myself. I’m going to take this up to my room—it’s still my overnight room?”

“Always.”

“I want to hang up my assistant’s dress. Son, you should do the same with your dress unless we want to add ironing to our list.”

“And I don’t. Unpack, then—No, text Trey, unpack, then mimosas.”

“He asked you to text him when you got here? Another mark of my approval,” Winter decided. “Final marks when I finally meet him. Now let’s get you both settled in.”

When they had, Cleo took another few minutes before coming down to give mother and daughter a chance to just be.

“Look at the pretty table. Your best dishes, tulips and baby’s breath, your grandmother’s lace cloth.”

“I liked having an excuse to fuss. Now, I know you said you wanted to take me out to dinner tonight, but—”

“That’s firm.” Sonya pointed a finger at her mother. “You’re not cooking. Neither is Cleo.”

“I still can’t believe Cleo does cook.”

“I’d say it surprised her, too. Not only that she can, but she likes it.”

“And look at you.” After she got the champagne out of the fridge, Winter flexed her biceps, patted it.

“I know, right?” Sonya flexed her own. “Who knew that was there? And surprise for me, I actually enjoy my solo, in-my-own-home-gym, mostly-every-other-day workouts.”

“Well, Maine and those workouts look really good on you. So does being in love.”