“Nonsense, you’ve always been a good multitasker. He’s a man of faith, and he’s quite the looker too. I stalked him on Facebook. You should do the same. Look him up. It’ll give you something else to focus on while that snake tries to slither his way back into your heart.”

“He’s not—” Sophie rubbed her eyes. Her grandma was a force, and sometimes it was easier to give in than fight. “All right. Fine. I’ll look him up.”

“That’s my girl. His name is Joshua Stevens, with a v. Sophie Stevens, doesn’t that have a nice ring to it?”

“Granny, you are getting way ahead of—”

“I have to go. Just keep your phone on. You don’t want to miss his call. And I’ll be checking in on you too.”

“Oh, jeez—maybe he could start with a text or something.”

Nothing but silence was on the other end.

“Granny?”

Great. Her grandmother had already hung up.

Sophie set down her phone, emotionally wrung out from the conversation. She gave her head a shake, then went back to her laptop, waking up the screen. Just as she opened an email to her brother, the lights flickered off.

chapter eight

A beep sounded from somewhere in the house, and the bedroom went dark. Aiden stilled, waiting for the light to flicker back on. But thirty seconds later he gave up. Using his phone’s flashlight he left the room and headed downstairs. “Sophie?”

“Right here.” Her voice came from the sofa, where the glow of her phone screen lit her face.

Pippa whined, no doubt sensing the tension.

“Looks like we’ve lost electricity,” she said.

“Probably a line down somewhere.”

“Maybe it’ll come back on.”

He couldn’t miss the hopeful tone in her voice. “They won’t be able to work on it until the storm passes. I’ll text the Fosters and see if they have a generator.” Wouldn’t that be nice? Otherwise they were looking at twenty-four hours together in a candlelit home with no distractions.

“Good idea.”

Aiden sent the text and didn’t have to wait but a minute for the reply. His stomach filled with lead. “They don’t have one. I’ll hunt down the flashlights and candles.”

She frowned down at her laptop. “I don’t suppose you happen to have a hot spot on your phone?”

“No, why?”

“I was working on something for Seth, and he needs it back by tomorrow morning. I’m finished but I have no way of sending it now.”

As far as he could see that was the least of his worries. His flight had been canceled, and if he didn’t get one by Tuesday morning he’d miss the ESTA ceremony—and what could turn out to be the biggest moment of his career.