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Oh, God. Sloane had specifically mentioned the six-week timeframe when he’d asked her to take care of Bree. And at the time, he’d assumed she’d say no because she had a book to write.
But a lifetime of things had happened since then. Bree had opened up to her,trustedher. And he had trusted her with the most important thing—the only thing—in his life.
Not to mention his heart.
In that moment, as Gavin finally dropped his eyes and saw Sloane’s betrayal right there in black and white, his gut seized with realization. He’d made a huge error in his assumption.
He’d never thought she would agree to stay, but then leave him and Bree anyway.
* * *
Sloane madea mad dash for Gavin’s porch, doing her best to dodge the steadily falling raindrops. She was cutting it a little close on the time for Gavin’s Sunday morning shift, but in all likelihood, if he and Bree had spent some time talking last night, then Bree would probably sleep late this morning anyway. God, she really hoped he’d been able to coax something out of Bree to ease her mind. The poor kid was probably aching for someone to talk to, and even though Sloane was more than happy to let Bree bend her ear for the girl stuff, at some point, she and Gavin were going to have to connect, especially about their mom. Sloane shook the cold rain from her blue beret, running her fingers over the soft threads with a smile as she closed her hand around the doorknob to let herself into the cottage.
The door was locked.
“What the hell?” Sloane tried the knob again, but before she could follow the failed attempt with a knock, it twisted in her palm, slipping from her grasp with a firm pull.
“Oh! God, you startled me,” she laughed, but the sound met a quick end in her throat when she walked into the foyer and saw the serious look etched on Gavin’s face. “How did it go with Bree last night? Did you guys get a chance to talk?”
“Yes.” His expression betrayed nothing, as impeccably pressed as his pale blue dress shirt, but she froze mid-step on the dark wood of the floorboards.
His expression might not let anything show, but his voice was a dead giveaway that something was horribly wrong.
Sloane’s heart fumbled against her ribs. “Oh, God, Gavin. Is she okay? I mean, I know she’s notokayokay, but—”
“No, she’s not.” A muscle ticked in his jaw, and her worry snowballed into fear.
“What’s going on? Where is she?”
“Jeannie picked her up about ten minutes ago. She was nice enough to help me out until Mrs. Teasdale comes back next week.” Gavin’s voice was utterly detached, as if he were reading a produce order over the phone.
Sloane pulled back, trying to make sense of what he was saying. Finally, she was forced to admit defeat. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
“It’s simple, really. Bree is staying with Jeannie this week while I’m at work. We just thought you might need the extra week to close up the bungalow and pack all of your things. Since you’re headed to Greece, and everything.”
His words slammed into her with tangible force, knocking her breath loose on a gasp. “What?”
He eyed her with steely disdain as he produced a piece of paper from his back pocket, unfolding it from its precise creases. “You should probably be more careful about where you leave your flight confirmation. After all, you’re going to need it when you skip town next Friday.”
Sloane’s mind dipped and spun, screeching to a halt with realization that turned her blood to ice water. “I left it on the printer,” she blurted, remembering too late how she’d clicked the icon to print the flight itinerary the night Bree had woken from her nightmare.
Oh, God. He thought she was leaving.
Which meant he thought she’d lied when she’d said she’d stay.
“Gavin, I can explain.” Sloane took a wobbly step toward him, but he cut her off with a tight wave of his hand.
“I don’t want you to.” The words arrowed into her, burrowing deep in her bones and stealing her voice as he continued. “You don’t owe me any explanations. In fact, you don’t owe me anything. We had a short-term business agreement. What you do now that it’s over is none of my concern.”
“That’s what you think we had? A business agreement?” Sloane forced herself to breathe, even though both her lungs and her throat had their own agenda. No, she and Gavin had never actually discussed what was going on between them, but it sure as hell hadn’t been just business.
It hadn’t beenjustanything.
“You’re the one who made it clear from the beginning that sticking around wasn’t your thing, Sloane,” Gavin said, folding his arms into an impenetrable knot over his chest. “And Mrs. Teasdale will be back next week, so you’re off the hook. Feel free to go.” He aimed a pointed, icy gaze at the door, and the move kick-started her mouth into motion.
“I wasn’tgoingto go. I mean, originally, I was, but—”
“The flight was booked three days ago.” A hint of something dark and thoroughly angry flashed over Gavin’s face as he lifted the paper. “So, forgive me if I have trouble believing you.”
