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“She puked every morning for about a month running, but that’s passed. Halle-freaking-lujah. She says how she can’t wait to get fat. We’ve got a lot to be thankful for when Turkey Day rolls around in a couple weeks.”
He looked at her with a shining grin. “You’re gonna be an auntie, sis.”
“Auntie Sloan will always have cookies. I’m so happy for you, Joel. Oh, man, I’m so happy for both of you. You’ll be great at it.”
“How about you and Matias? Ever think about taking that next step?”
“As in moving in together?”
She hadn’t thought to check in with the man she’d been seeing for most of a year as Joel had with Sari. Then again, Matias wouldn’t expect it—and wouldn’t have appreciated a check-in after ten at night.
“Not sure,” she concluded. “Mostly no, but not sure. And I know what you’re thinking.” She ticked a look in his direction. “Not suremeans justno. But it really meansnot sureandnot yet. We’re fine like we are.”
“Mm-hmm.”
She only rolled her eyes, as she knew that sound. It meant, in his opinion, she was fooling herself.
Maybe so, but she liked her life just as it was.
But he said, “I need a Dr Pepper.”
“You always need a Dr Pepper.”
“Dr Pepper gives me my sparkle.”
“So you say, but fine. I have to pee anyway. And we might as well gas up while we’re at it.”
Another mile either way would’ve changed everything, but she cut quickly to the right and took the next exit.
She drove half a mile, winding through the almost middle of nowhere to a quick stop. She pulled up to the pumps.
“You gas it up. I’ll buy the expectant daddy his drink of choice. Daddy,” she repeated. “Holy shit, Joel!”
She got out of the truck, an athletic woman with her blond hair secured in a bun under her Stetson. Her eyes (the left sporting a shiner), large, almond-shaped, and deeply green, dominated a face of strong cheekbones, a slim nose, and a long, sharply defined mouth.
Like Joel’s easy manner, people often mistook those large, fairylike eyes for soft. She could bench-press a hundred and fifty—thirty over her own weight—send a speed bag singing, and run a mile in six minutes flat.
She’d spent her childhood hiking the trails in the Alleghenies, swimming or boating on the lake in the summer, skiing, snowshoeing in the winter. The outdoors had honed her physique and her mindset. Her ambitions and chosen career made, to her thinking, the best of them.
She stepped into the little mart thinking about emptying her bladder,then finishing the second half of the drive home, where she’d take a long, hot shower and sleep in her own bed.
Even as the door shut behind her, she knew something was wrong.
The stance of the man with his back to her—white, brown hair, six feet, a hundred and sixty—and the wide eyes that read fear in the counterman facing her, had her resting a hand on her weapon.
It happened fast.
It took an eternity.
The man spun, and the weapon already in his hand fired.
The first shot grazed across her forehead, a sharp, shocking sting that gave her an instant to draw.
But the second struck her chest, threw her back and down with pain beyond comprehension.
She saw the man running by her—mid-thirties, brown eyes, little scar on the right cheek—as her breath wheezed, as the shocking pain spread.
She tried to raise her weapon, but the world grayed. She tried to shout a warning to Joel, but could barely draw breath.