Chapter 65

“You are going on a honeymoon?” Novotny asked.

“We are. We haven’t discussed it yet, but—”

“We’ll go wherever Quinn decides.”

Quinn reached out, caught my hand, and squeezed it. “Your island?”

“Sure.” And I had every intention of spending our entire time there stark staring naked.

~*~

ALLISON DASHWOOD WAS A nice woman—well, that stood to reason if Portia considered her a good friend—and Quinn wanted me to meet her before the wedding. A couple of weeks later, he arranged for us all to have lunch at Café Montpelier in the Madison Arms.

We were waiting for her, because it wouldn’t have been polite for us to make her wait, and we rose as she approached our table.

“Aunt Allison, this is Mark Vincent, my fiancé.”

“How do you do, Mark? It’s nice to meet you.” She offered me her hand.

“Same here, ma’am.”

Quinn bit back a laugh. He probably remembered all the times I’d called Portia “ma’am.”

“Call me Allison,” she said as she sat down. “I expect you to treat my godson well.”