were going back and forth, bickering, I realized how much I missed it.”
“Arguing with me?”
“Yeah. Or like, not arguing. Disagreeing.”
“We were arguing.”
“It doesn’t matter. I liked it. That’s what matters.”
“Okay. So what?”
This is not going well. “So, I guess I was wondering if you liked it, too.” Cringe. The thud-thud-thud of the pavement joints counted out the time it took her to answer. God, he was bad at this.
She sighed. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know if you liked it?”
She clucked her tongue and looked away. “It’s not that simple.”
“Of course it is. Did you like it or not? Pretty straightforward to me.”
“Don’t railroad me, Sloan.”
“Asking if you’ve enjoyed my company like I’ve enjoyed yours over the last couple of days is not railroading you. It’s laying my feelings on the line. Putting myself out there.”
“Could you lower your voice, please?”
He did. “What, you don’t want your kids to hear that I like spending time with you? I think when this is all over, we should go to dinner.”
“Stop. Please.”
That was what he got for going out on a limb. One hell of a fall to the ground. She wouldn’t even look at him. “Forget I said anything.” He changed lanes, the camper slowing down as he approached the rest area.
Sloan’s mood hung in the air like a heavy storm cloud. He had his answer. And while his gut told him Jo still had feelings for him, he had no intention of forcing the issue.
18
“Evelyn.” Joanne opened her arms and hugged Sloan’s mother. They were pulled up to the arrivals curb at the Albany, New York airport, Gus barking his head off inside the camper. “Thanks so much for coming.”
The older woman looked stylish in printed capris and a white tank, her once-blonde hair now silvery-white. She smelled like baby powder and perfume, the same scent she always had, and Jo felt happier in that instant than she had in a very long time. Evelyn laughed, leaning back to hold Jo’s arms wide. “Look at you! You’re all grown up.”
“You look great.” Jo was smiling so much her face ached. “These are my children.” She introduced Lucas and April, who waved uncertainly at the gregarious woman, but Fiona came in close and gave Evelyn a hug.
Sloan hugged her next. “Hi, Ma. Did you have a good trip?”
“Always.”
“Sorry you had to cut it short,” said Jo. “We really appreciate the help.”
“Happy to do it.”
Jo offered Evelyn the passenger seat, but she insisted she wanted to get to know the children. Gus attacked Evelyn as Sloan pulled away from the curb. “She’s a little desperate for grandchildren.”
“Mine could use a grandmother. Maybe we can work out a deal.”
“David’s mom isn’t around?”
“Oh, she’s around. Let’s just say she isn’t grandma material.” She twisted around in her seat. “I smell butterscotch.”
“She probably loaded her pockets with candy, like a mailman with a pocket full of bacon.”
She sighed. “I love your mom.”
“She loves you, too.”
Joanne stared out her window, watching field after field fly by. She felt better after finally getting a good night’s sleep at the hotel last night, whether because of her physical distance from Sloan or Evelyn’s impending arrival, she wasn’t certain. But she was keenly aware of having lost another day without finding Bannon’s money and the growing tension between herself and Sloan.
The latter was her fault. “I’m sorry about yesterday.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I do enjoy your company.” She sighed, wishing she could give him a very different answer. “I just worry that it isn’t going to work out long term. And that’s fine for us, but the kids… I don’t know how to date with kids, to keep things light and casual so they don’t get attached.”
“We just tell them we’re going to dinner.”
She blew out air. “You don’t understand. You’re like that pocket full of butterscotch, and you don’t even know it. You’ve got each one of them wrapped around your finger just by being you. I need to protect them from getting hurt, and I don’t know how to keep them from caring about you.”
“They can handle more than you think.”
“They just lost their father, Sloan. He and I were separated, but he and the kids were not. Bringing you into their lives right now would be like replacing something they haven’t even gotten used to living without.”
“You make it sound like I’d step right into his place. That isn’t what would happen. No one can replace their father, just like nothing could replace my arm. Do you think