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Chapter 18

Sloan

♪The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald | Jaxon Waters

Jason picked me up right at 4:45 to drive us to Kristen’s to attend her trial by fire. I was hoping he’d get stuck doing some Jaxon Waters thing and have to cancel, but no luck. I argued we should take separate cars so he could escape if he needed to, but he wouldn’t hear of it.

My eyelid was in a full-scale panic attack. The finger wasn’t enough to hold it in place. I needed my whole palm.

Jason looked over at me from behind the wheel of his truck and laughed. “Come on, she cannot be that bad.”

“Jason, there’s probably a clone of her guarding the gates of hell.”

The creasing at the corners of his eyes made me smile despite myself.

“I just never know what she’s going to do. She’s always scheming. And the baby’s at his grandmother’s house tonight, so who knows what she’s got planned.”

“Schemes, huh?” He chuckled.

“Yes, she loves messing with me. I can’t explain her, Jason. She’s too weird.”

When we knocked on the door to Kristen’s tan stucco house, I gave Jason one more I’m-so-sorry glance, and he winked at me.

Kristen threw the door open, grinning right past me at Jason like a lunatic. “You must be Jason!” She bumped into me theatrically and dove right in for a hug with my date.

I shook my head at her over his shoulder, and she gave me crazy eyes.

When he was released from her clutches, Jason handed her the flowers he’d brought, and she gushed, ushering us inside, where Josh waited like an accomplice, holding two beers.

Stuntman Mike bounced off Jason’s shins, and he crouched and petted him.

Kristen leaned over and whispered in my ear. “He does smell like flannel.”

“You promised me you’d behave,” I hissed.

“What? What did I do?” she said, blinking at me with feigned innocence.

Jason stood and took the beer he was offered, shaking Josh’s hand, introducing himself. Jason didn’t look the least bit uncomfortable. Maybe he was used to overzealous, grabby, slightly inappropriate fans?

“Hey,” Kristen whispered, nudging me in the ribs. “I told Josh to ask him if he can spell ‘chlamydia.’ If he can, he’s gonna throw him out.”

I blanched and she practically skipped across the room and hooked her arm in Jason’s. “Let me give you the tour.”

“I’m coming on the tour,” I announced.

“Nope. It’s a one-person tour. We’re all booked up.” She slapped the flowers to my chest. “Put these in water, will you? And, Josh, can you show Sloan to the kitchen, where there’s a potato salad that needs putting together? Thanks.”

Jason looked thoroughly amused at my distress and allowed himself to be led away.

Huffing, I turned to Josh, who was smiling after his insane wife.

“You know there’s no stopping her when she gets an idea,” he said.

“And what idea are we talking about, Josh?”

He took a swig of his beer. “I’m not telling you shit. I have to live with her.”

I stomped to the kitchen to make the damn potato salad. Ten minutes later, as I was moodily squeezing mayo into a bowl and chopping celery, Jason and Kristen reappeared, laughing and chatting like old friends.