Page 80 of The Route to You

“You can always tell the people who have been living out on the West Coast by the way they measure what far is.” He glanced back at his truck. “But sure . . . I’ll come see Charlie.”

“Okay, good. Because I have something else that I really need to give you. Which is part of the reason I wanted to talk to you.”

“Yeah?” He smirked. “What’s that?”

“Um . . .” Sloan slouched back just a little. “Your grandmother.”

21

SLOAN

Sloan hadn’t intended to invite Kyle over. Especially not when her house looked like this—boxes, a couple of dog beds, and bowls on the ground. Dog crates.

And that’s it.

Her footsteps as she stepped in and held the door. “Come on in.”

Kyle stepped through, followed her up the stairs to the main level, then nearly skidded to a stop. He looked back at her sharply, a quizzical raise of his brow. “I love what you’ve done with the place.”

“Oh, shut it,” she said. She flipped the light on and shut the door as Charlie and Sadie started to bark and paw at their crates. “First of all, I just moved.”

She hurried over toward the crates and unlatched them. Both dogs nearly leaped on her, rather than going over to investigate the stranger who’d just entered the house.

“Great guard dogs,” Kyle observed wryly. He shook his head at Sadie. “I should have known she’d be a goldendoodle.” Then he crouched and held his hand out to Charlie. “Here, girl.”

Sloan’s lips opened with mock outrage. “What’s that supposed to mean?” A small part of her was delighted to see Charlie nearly pounce on Kyle, front paws on his shoulders, tongue on his chin.

“It means,” Kyle said, in between hellos to Charlie, “that goldendoodles are exactly the type of dog that someone like you would own. You know, goofy as hell, partial commitment to the whole dog hair thing.”

Sloan looped her arms around Sadie’s neck. “Don’t you hurt her feelings. This is her first time meeting you.” She shot him a grin while Charlie continued to try to lick Kyle’s face. “Besides. I have Charlie, too.”

Kyle focused on Charlie. “Down, all right. Down.” Charlie sat, then lay on the floor and rolled over. He scratched her belly gently. “Charlie isn’t the type of dog you would choose for yourself, though.”

Her mouth opened in mock outrage. “I would so choose her.”

He shook his head. “She’s like the comfy sweater in the discount clothing store that ends up being your favorite because you got it from a friend, but not because you shop at discount stores.”

Ouch. But not entirely wrong.

Didn’t mean she loved that he saw her that way. Or that, if she were that person, she should continue that behavior.

Still, his perceptiveness made her heart squeeze.

She’d nearly lost it back there in the parking lot when she’d first seen him, standing there, at his truck, healthy. Whole.

But the anger had stolen her breath away. Bruised her.

And then, for a few seconds, she’d almost thought he might kiss her.

He hadn’t, though.

She wasn’t completely sure he’d ever forgive her.

But he was here. And not just because she was holding his grandmother hostage—morbid as that sounded. He’d agreed to come even before he’d learned that.

The silence had just started to get a little too thick when Kyle looked around the empty living room. “So, what’s second of all?”

She furrowed her brow. “Huh?”