Luke turned onto the correct road, then checked on Walter—still fast asleep, despite the storm, loud music, and rumbling engine. The rain continued, the conditions deteriorating with each mile.
“You’re going too fast.”
Allie was being overly cautious—totally unlike her. But, hey, no one wanted to keep the car safe more than he did. He eased off the accelerator again.
The wipers, even on the highest speed, could hardly keep pace with the deluge flooding the windshield. The road was windy, the mountain rising on one side and dropping off on the other. Rain pummeled the roof and thunder cracked nearby. At least the ruckus drowned out that ridiculous music.
As if realizing that herself, Allie shut off the playlist.
Luke drove on, one slow mile at a time, as Allie stared out the passenger window. He kept his gaze glued on the pavement, navigating the winding road carefully, fully aware that if anything happened to this perfectly restored car, the blame would fall squarely on him. He hadn’t fully considered that when he’d agreed to this little road trip. His palms grew damp, sticking to the steering wheel.
One mile turned into twelve. This uncomfortable silence would be the death of him. Maybe he should attempt a civil conversation. Keep it neutral.
“So... your grandparents have been married fifty years, huh? That’s something.”
“They argue like two kids in a sandbox.” Her fond tone contradicted the words.
Her grandparents were great, and they visited often. “Yeah, but then your grandma brings him a cuppa joe, and he pulls herdown on his lap, and she tells him she’s too old to be pawed at like a teenager—”
“And then they’re off to the races again,” Allie finished.
Silence settled in once again, the conversation having reached a dead end. Luke gave it another go. “So, how’s Olivia doing? I don’t see her around town very often.”
“Busy with the kids and fund-raisers and field trips.”
“Have you babysat lately? Evan must be in kindergarten by now.”
“He is. But Olivia hasn’t let me babysit since the Cocoa Puffs incident.”
He tore his gaze from the pavement to glance at her. “What incident?”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t heard. I thought everyone in the entire tristate area knew by now.”
“Not me, I swear.”
Allie was quiet so long Luke thought she was going to drop the whole thing.
Then she spared him a look. “One night while I was babysitting over a long weekend, Evan decided to put Cocoa Puffs up his nose while I was changing Emma’s diaper. Ella saw him do it and screamed for me. But when I got to the kitchen, I couldn’t get them out, not even with tweezers. I knew he could breathe through his mouth, but still... I guess I freaked out a little.
“I drove him to the ER, totally frantic, reminding him to keep his mouth open. Emma screamed the whole way because it was time for her bottle, and Ella kept asking if Evan was going to die.”
Luke’s lips twitched.
“At the hospital a nurse came into the room as I was searching for Emma’s bottle and dialing Olivia to break the news. The nurse gave me this condescending look as she gave Evan’s nose a hard pinch and told him to blow. Then he started wailing—just as Olivia picked up the phone, of course. Turned out he was crying not because the procedure had hurt, but because his Cocoa Puffs were ‘broked.’”
Luke held back a laugh he knew wouldn’t be appreciated.
“Try telling Olivia that though. She and Spencer came right home from their weekend getaway, and I haven’t been asked to babysit since.”
His humor drained away. Olivia had always been Miss Responsibility while Allie was... well, she was Allie. She was impulsive and changeable and fun, which made her a great aunt. And he couldn’t help but be annoyed with Olivia for taking that away from her.
Chapter 7
Allie couldn’t believe she’d just relayed that stupid story to Luke. Reliving her Cocoa Puffs faux pas made her feel vulnerable, and that was the last thing she wanted to feel around Luke.
“Anyway...” She hoped her upbeat tone glossed over her hurt. “I still get to spend time with the little rugrats, of course, and Evan learned not to block his breathing pathways with cereal.”
“She overreacted. You didn’t do anything wrong. Just give her a little time.”
