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Bree’s eyes widened, and Gavin realized with a pang that she’d been crying. “She said that?”
Man, he didn’t want to put her on the spot, but they weren’t going to get very far by skirting the subject. “Yeah. She thought you might be feeling a little out of sorts, and was worried about you.”
But then her mouth snapped into a scowl, and she said with a shrug, “Whatever.”
Something strange tickled at the back of Gavin’s mind, but he pushed it aside. He couldn’t shy away from this conversation now. Not when Bree needed him.
“So, can I come in?” He softened his voice a notch and just told the truth. “Because I’m worried about you, too.”
Bree dropped her chin into her thermal pajama top, but thankfully, she didn’t rebuff him. “Okay.” She sat down on her rumpled bed and hugged her flannel-clad legs to her chest, silently staring at her toes.
Right. Clearly Sloane had underestimated the awkward factor of this whole thing when she’d assured him he’d know what to say. He sat on the edge of the bed and opened his mouth before he lost his nerve. “Listen, I know that sometimes—”
“Are you in love with Sloane?”
The question startled him into complete freeze. “What?”
“I don’t mean to be nosy. I just…I need to know.” Bree’s voice wavered, and the emotion infusing her words did nothing to help him focus.
“I don’t understand. Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?” Gavin’s brain scrambled to play catch-up, but it was completely useless. If anything, he’d thought Bree would be thrilled about the idea of him and Sloane getting serious. So why was she looking at him with so much trepidation?
“Yeah. I need to know if you want her to stay. Like forever.”
He paused. No, it wasn’t what he’d been expecting, but he still owed it to Bree to be honest. After all, having Sloane around for the long haul would affect Bree’s life, too. He pulled in a breath and looked her right in the eye.
“To answer your question, yes, I’m in love with Sloane. And yes, even though I think it’s something we should talk about together, I want her to stay. Forever.”
“But she won’t,” Bree whispered, and finally, Gavin got it.
“Bree, you don’t have to be afraid that anything will happen to Sloane.” He picked up her hand and gave it a tight squeeze. “It’s perfectly understandable that you’d be worried after how suddenly Mom got sick. But I promise, Sloane’s not going anywhere.”
She let go of his hand to take a sheet of paper from her nightstand, pressing her eyes shut as she held it out with shaking fingers.
“Tell that to her. She’s leaving for Greece next week.”
27
Abolt of unadulterated shock straightened Gavin’s spine, and he barked out a completely involuntary laugh at Bree’s words.
“That’s ridiculous. Why on earth would you think she was going to Greece?”
“Because she booked a one-way ticket. It says so right here. She’s leaving next Friday, and she’s not coming back.” Bree held the paper out, eyes brimming with tears. “She was never going to stay. See for yourself.”
A deep-seated voice at the back of his mind screamed at Gavin not to take the paper from Bree’s trembling fingers. Sloane wouldn’t leave. Sure, she’d traveled the world on a whim in the past, but things were different now. She knew how much Bree needed her, how much he needed her. She wouldn’t do that to him.
She wouldn’t do that tothem.
He took the paper from her shaking hands, but didn’t look at it. “Bree, I think this is a misunderstanding. Where did you even get this?” The single piece of paper felt like a ten-ton weight between his suddenly unsteady fingers.
“I found it on the printer when I went to get my English homework. And it’s not a misunderstanding. Have you looked at Sloane’s website?”
His confusion deepened, shifting and kicking like a live entity. “What does her website have to do with any of this?”
Tears spilled over Bree’s cheeks, her mouth an angry line. “All her books are set in foreign places. And her biography page says she’s been to all of them, you know, for research and stuff. That part of what inspires her is being in all these countries and experiencing them firsthand. Andthat’show she writes a book.”
Gavin’s mind took a hard tumble back to the morning when Sloane had run her fingers so reverently over the picture frames in the living room, telling him she’d walked the Via Francigena in Tuscany. France…Spain…Italy…she went wherever the wind carried her, whenever she felt like going. And she wrote a book, fueling her livelihood every time she went.
Oh, I spent time in Venice and Milan, too. But the whole point of the trip was to find inspiration…
