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A look of realization crossed Sloane’s face as she finally connected the dots. “You want me to stay? For six more weeks?”
“I understand that you’ve got other obligations to consider. But, yes. I was hoping maybe we could work something out.”
Her expression rippled with a hint of something odd that he couldn’t quite pin down, and it looked out of place on her pretty face. “Like what, exactly?”
Gavin aimed for nonchalance. “Well, since everything went so smoothly last week, it would essentially just be an extension of our arrangement.”
Sloane’s brow kicked up. Nowthatwas an expression he was familiar with.
She said, “What about the babysitting service? I’m sure they could come up with someone a lot more qualified to look after Bree for six weeks.”
“Last week went well, plus Bree has made some pretty impressive strides in her schoolwork since she started working with you. I’d say that makes you pretty qualified.” Damn it, he should’ve known Sloane would balk at sticking around. She probably had some impulsive to-do list she was raring to get back to.
Nope. No way. He’d sworn to do his best to convince her, and this passive complimentary stuff wasn’t going to cut it. He took a step toward her out of instinct.
“Look, I know you’ve got a book to write and a life to live. Kids aren’t your thing, I get it. But Bree asked for you. She wants you. So, I’d be really grateful if you’d consider it, because Bree’s well-being ismything, and I promised her I’d do what I could to get you to say yes.”
Sloane’s lips parted, and shock commandeered her features. “But that’s…that’s crazy. She’s barely said ten words to me that I haven’t had to coax out of her with a bribe. Why would she want me?”
Gavin took another step, stopping right in front of her in the sun-filled kitchen. “The why of it doesn’t matter. Whatever you’ve been doing, it’s good enough for her.”
“What?”
Oh, hell. He must’ve said something terribly wrong, otherwise why would she be looking at him like he’d just kicked her puppy? He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to strong-arm you. I know you’ve got a book to write, and—”
“I do. I have a book to write.” She blinked, and the words seemed to kick-start her into gear. She looked at him, her face suddenly shrewd. “You’re sure it would only be for six weeks?”
“Yes.” Mrs. Teasdale had been pretty adamant, plus he didn’t want to scare Sloane off. If worse came to worst, he’d figure something out. “I’m sure.”
She nodded, and when she met his gaze with her crystal blue stare, he felt it deep in his gut.
“Okay. I’m in.”
13
“Hey. It sounded important, so I came bearing food.”
“I don’t know aboutimportant,” Sloane said, taking the white paper bag from Carly as her friend hustled into the bungalow they used to share. “Can’t a girl kill a couple of hours before work with her best friend?”
“Yes. But it usually encompasses gossip.” Carly cocked her head expectantly, tossing her coat over the back of the couch in the cozy living room.
“How’s Jackson? Are you guys making do with postponing your honeymoon until spring, when ski season is over?” Sloane took the bag into the kitchen and started flipping through the cabinets in quick movements, her skin prickling from Carly’s eagle eyes on her every step of the way. She should’ve known Carly would read too much into the whole let’s-have-coffee routine.
“He’s fine. How are you?”
Sloane placed two dishes on the counter and popped the paper bag open, taking a big inhale that made her mouth water. “I’m fine. Mmmm, cinnamon raisin muffins. You know these are my favorite. They’re the best.”
Carly frowned, placing a firm hand on each hip. “Are you trying to distract me with flattery and niceties?”
“Distract you from what? Coffee should be done in a minute,” Sloane said, jutting her chin at the burbling pot.
“You forget how long we’ve known each other,cucciola. Something’s going on with you. I know a cry for help when I hear it.”
“More like a cry for sanity.” Sloane’s mutter got lost in the depths of the incredible aroma drifting up from the paper bag. “Good God, these really do smell amazing.”
Carly’s attention wavered to the food, tempting Sloane into a sigh of relief. “They’re better warmed up. They only need a couple of minutes.” Carly motioned for the bag, and Sloane dutifully passed it over so Carly could put the muffins into the oven.
“So, do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Carly threw a glance over her shoulder as she moved through the kitchen and suddenly, Sloane felt like one of those butterflies pinned to a board, waiting to be labeled.
