“Because if you don’t mind me saying...”
He lifts his eyes to look at me.
“...I think she’s a bit of a bitch.”
His eyes widen—I’ve massively overstepped—and then he throws back his head and laughs at the ceiling.
I laugh too, remembering her coming into the barn and being so rude to me, even as she held her sleepy toddler. Andthen I look across the table at Jonas, at his shaggy milk-chocolate hair, and my heart skips a beat.
“Her little boy. His hair.”
“He’s not mine, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“How do you know?”
“We haven’t slept together in over five years.”
“So, her oldest son? Her daughter?”
He shakes his head. “Trust me. The timing doesn’t stack up. I used to wish that wasn’t the case. I used to wish those kids were mine, so bad.”
“Have you met them?” I ask, and it wasn’t intended as a quip, but now I can’t keep a straight face.
“Maybe I did have a lucky escape,” he replies with a chuckle.
“I think you definitely did. And I’m not talking about her kids now. Jonas,” I say imploringly, reaching across the table to cover his hand with mine, “you can do so much better. So,somuch better. But you’ve got to open up your heart to other women, give someone else a chance. In the meantime, let Heather sleep in the bed she’s made for herself.”
He clears his throat. “I’ll think about it.” Then he gives me a meaningful look. “Now go and talk some sense into my brother.”
The flame inmy stomach flickers as I walk up to the house. I am so nervous. The side door is unlocked, but I call Anders’s name before venturing inside. The kitchen light is on, as is the living room light, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Then I hear footsteps upstairs.
“Hello?” I call out.
The movement stops momentarily, then it starts up again.
I walk to the bottom of the stairs. “Anders?”
He appears at the top of the stairs, looking very harassed, and then I notice the bag slung over his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” I ask breathlessly.
“I’ve got to head back to Indy,” he replies with regret, dropping the bag at his feet. He doesn’t come down the stairs.
“Why?”
“We’ve got races on the West Coast, this weekend and next. My boss wants me there.”
“You’releaving?” I ask as he scratches his head. “Tonight? For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
The fire in my belly is doused with icy water. “Can we talk about this?”
He shakes his head. “There’s nothing to talk about. I’ve got to pack the rest of my stuff.”
“When did your boss ask you to go back to work?”
“He always hoped I’d do the last two races of the season.”
