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Nodding, I grin in return. "That sounds just about right. Promise not to check emails from your phone?"
Rolling her eyes, she smirks. “I’ll give you a few hours. But I can’t make promises beyond that." Turning to punch in a code so the door locks, I can hear the smile in her voice. "You can't expect me to quit cold turkey. It's rare I take an entire night off."
"I can see I’ve got my work cut out for me." I pretend to grumble as I open the door of my truck for her.
My truck is slightly lifted, but Sloane uses the running boards like a pro and enters with ease. Once she’s settled, I close the door and walk around to join her in the cab.
After I pull away from the curb, I make small talk to break the silence. It’s comfortable, but I want to make the most of this time to get to know her better. I get the feeling it's a rare sight to see this side of her, and I’m not foolish enough to waste a moment of it.
"What did you end up doing today?” I ask, turning right at the stop sign.
“I spent most of the day doing some back-end things for the festival. I made graphics, updated the schedule, and all sorts of things you'd rather not hear about if you really want me to unplug."
"Point taken," comes out on a laugh. "I assume you spent most of the day working. Tell me what's something you only do for you? A guilty pleasure of sorts."
"Hmmm… that's actually harder than it should be to answer. Besides hanging with my sisters, I don't do a lot for just me. I've been so focused on school and now work. Raven and I do pedicures regularly. I also love reading at night before bed."
"What types of books do you enjoy?" I ask with interest. "Fiction or nonfiction?"
Gasping, she lets out an adorable laugh. "I guess I do have a guilty pleasure after all. Hmmm… If I’m reading, I need to escape. I've had enough of facts and statistics in school. I want all the romance. I love spicy rom-coms, as well as stories that tear my heart out and make me feel all the feels, then put it back together again. An HEA is a must."
Holy shit. So much to unpack from that. I followed most of it, but still ask for clarification, "HEA?"
"Happily ever after. Don't get me wrong, I like women’s fiction and chick-lit, but give me a good ole romance, and I'll devour it."
"So… the classics?" I ask, completely out of my element.
From the corner of my eye, I watch her nose scrunch. "Don't get me wrong, I like some, but contemporary is more my jam. My sister Lanie was always reading growing up. She'd no sooner finish a book, mention its title, and I would finish it within a day or two."
"Were you always so competitive?"
"My sisters emphatically would say yes. Being one of four girls, I wanted to forge my own path, so my competitive side formed early."
That totally fits my impression of her. “Are either of your parents competitive like you?”
“Dad is probably more competitive than Mom. As a pararescue pilot, he’s got to be at the top of his game. He can’t afford to make mistakes—literally. But Mom’s a traveling nurse, so she’s good at what she does, too.”
“Was she always a traveling nurse?” I probe, completely fascinated by their family dynamics.
“No. We basically stayed in University Place after my parents’ divorce. When Dad got stationed at Lewis-McChord, Mom took the opportunity to be a traveling nurse. This way Lizzy could graduate where she started school, and everyone was happy.”
“Did you see your dad often growing up?”
“As often as we could. He’d come to visit as much as possible and either Mom or Nana took us to see him on our breaks from school when he couldn’t come to us. It certainly wasn’t easy, but we’ve made it work.”
Sighing heavily, she shrugs as if it’s completely her normal. Then she adds, “It’s probably why I’m so close to my sisters. We were more or less the solid unit, and our grown-ups fit the best they could into our schedules. Everyone made us a priority, so it worked.”
As we drive into Cannon Beach, I pull off the highway and head into town. I’m honestly surprised Sloane hasn’t peppered me with questions about our plans. Instead of going into the touristy area, I veer off and head to my favorite out of the way restaurant. It’s a little mom-and-pop place that still gets some tourists, but usually, it’s where the locals go if they want a night off from cooking.
When I pull up to the curb alongside the restaurant, Sloane’s eyes light up. “We’re going to Meg’s?”
“If you’re okay with it. Hang on, I’ll grab your door.”
Glancing to see if there’s any traffic behind me, I quickly hop out and rush around the back of my truck to open her door. Thankfully, she waits for me to help her out. I know she’s perfectly capable of opening it herself, but hopefully, she’ll realize she’ll never need to if I’m around.
The moment the door swings open, she gushes, “This is one of my favorite places. They have the best French dip sandwiches ever. Nana used to take us here. Gosh, I don’t think I’ve been here in a few years.”
“It’s one of my favorites, too.” I grin, holding the door to the restaurant open for her.
