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I shook my head at her. “You would make the worst poker player, you know that, right?”

“Jason, you made this sound like it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Would you have come if I’d told you the truth?”

“No.”

“Well, then.”

She glared at me.

“Would you prefer that you’re just one in a long line of women that I’ve brought home?”

She narrowed her lone eye at me. “No.”

“Well, then,” I said again, proving my point.

She took her finger from her eyelid and hugged her arms around herself. “What if they don’t like me?”

Impossible.

I tipped up her chin. “There’s a very real possibility that they’ll like you better than they like me.”

Mom was flipping out. Not just because Sloan was The Huntsman’s Wife, but because I didn’t bring women home as a rule.

And bringing Sloan home meant exactly what Mom thought it did.