Page 88 of The Route to You

She’d only gone a few steps when she slid, her heel catching a trail of mayonnaise, oil-covered tomatoes, and deli meat. Crying out, she only barely managed to register that she was falling before she landed, straight on her backside, the back of her head making contact with the floor a moment later. “Ow!”

Dazed, Sloan blinked up at the ceiling.

“You okay?” Kyle groaned.

Her butt was bruised, her dignity a bit worse for the wear, but . . . yes ? “I think. You?”

“Yeah. Just forgot I shouldn’t move my arm that direction.”

“Let me get you some ice. I have that at least.” Sloan rolled onto her side in time to see Kyle crawl over toward her.

His dimple showed in his cheek as he chuckled, surveying the damage. “I think maybe some dog obedience classes might be in order.”

“She’s a brat. I’m sorry.” Sloan sat up a few feet from him. “You can have my sub instead. I’ll get this mess cleaned up.”

“I don’t want to deprive you of your dinner. Why don’t we just split it?” His eyes flicked to her hair. “Hang on.” He reached over and plucked a few pieces of shredded lettuce from her hair.

Silly as it was, a flutter went through Sloan’s chest.

Stop it, you foolish woman.

He hadn’t given her a gentle caress, just taken trash out of her hair. What is wrong with me? “Thanks,” she said, her voice scraping out lower and rougher than she wanted.

“Just when I think there’s no way to make the scenarios we find ourselves in worse, you always find a way to surprise me,” he teased.

“Oh God, isn’t that the truth?” She cracked a smile, then went over, plucked her sandwich off the floor, and set it on the counter. “Let me go find Charlie and stick her in her crate before she eats anything else. I think she’s had dinner early tonight. And oh—ice!”

She grabbed a grocery bag from the stash she’d started under the sink, then filled it with ice straight from the dispenser on the door. As she passed Kyle, she handed it to him. “Be right back.”

Charlie, it turned out, had hidden in the bedroom where she’d been before, her dark eyes filled with guilt and shame. Once Sloan had coaxed her out of the room, she headed back with Charlie toward the kitchen to find the floor already cleaned—Kyle wiping the greasy remnants off with a spray mop.

The bag of ice remained on the floor.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, confining Charlie and turning toward him.

“No big deal. You fell down, too, you know.”

“I’m fine,” she said, brushing it off. He didn’t need to know that her butt cheek was hurting. “It’s you I’m worried about. Especially with that shoulder. Are you managing okay? I know you’re going to PT and seem pretty independent, but maybe, you overextended yourself here today.”

Kyle gave her a sharp look, then returned the mop to the closet at the end of the kitchen. “Don’t do that,” he said quietly, handing her half the sub.

Something in his tone gave her pause. “Do what?”

He met her gaze again. “Coddle me.” He took a bite. “Sub’s good.”

“I’m not—” She stopped, thinking about his words, aware that she’d clearly struck a nerve. “I’m not coddling you.”

“Fine then . . . pity me—whatever it is. Believe me, I get enough of that lately. I had an accident. It’s fine. But I’ll rip my hair out if it’s what everyone uses to define me and what I should or shouldn’t be doing from here on out.”

The honesty of his words struck her deeply.

“Okay, maybe I was coddling you,” she said, standing across from him. She focused on her sub for a few moments. She chewed slowly, thinking about all the videos she’d watched of him the last few months. Probably not something she wanted to admit to him yet, but it had given her insight into the man Kyle was now—and the persona he’d put on for the camera.

He was smart. She knew that from high school.

Adventurous. Capable. A little reckless, obviously, but that clearly spoke to something else.

And independent, too. A free spirit who didn’t play by other people’s rules.