“Sloane, there’s something I need to tell you.”
My stomach sank.
He leaned forward and caressed my cheek. “It isn’t anything bad. At least, I don’t think it is.”
“What?”
He smiled and kissed me. “I overheard everything you said to Halo earlier.”
My cheeks flushed.
“There was one thing in particular that made me think more than the others. You said you didn’t know if I’d ever feel the same way about you as you feel about me.”
I sighed. “I did say that.”
“That’s exactly how I felt on the plane ride back from Columbia. I didn’t know whether you felt the same way I did, and you wanna know why?”
“Sure.”
“Because I never told you how I felt.” Tackle brushed my lips with his. “I love you, Sloane.”
My eyes filled with tears, and I shook my head.
“Listen to me. I love you, Sloane. I have for as long as I can remember.”
“You don’t have to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Feel like you have to say it to me.”
“What if I want to say it? What if I want to say it over and over and over until you believe me?”
“I guess I can’t stop you.”
“You know what?”
I smiled. “What?”
“Other than by eavesdropping, I don’t know how you feel about me.”
“You heard me.”
“I want to hear the words.”
This was a lot harder than I’d ever thought it would be. Loving Tackle had been my secret since I was a child. Other than Knox, I hadn’t told anyone that I loved him.
“You won’t lose part of your soul if you say it, peanut.” He smiled and kissed me. “Look, I didn’t.”
“You can’t see your soul to know one way or another.”
“That may be true, but I can feel it, and it feels whole.”
He shifted down my body and kissed my belly. “I love you too, little peanut. See, it isn’t so hard once you practice a few times.”
I wove my fingers in his hair and stared into his eyes. “I love you, Landry.”
He raised his eyebrows.
I moved his hand to my belly and put mine on top of it. “I love you too, baby Landry.”
“Baby Landry? Not baby Sorenson?”
I shook my head. “When I was eleven years old, I decided that whether we had a boy or a girl, our first baby’s name would be Landry, just like his or her father.”
“You knew then, huh?”
“I think I did. At least I hoped.”
We heard a knock at the door. “Come in,” I shouted.
“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” said my brother, looking sheepishly from Tackle to me. “This is going to be weird.”
“You’ll get used to it, and if you don’t, tough shit.”
We all laughed at Tackle’s words.
“Have you heard anything?” I asked.
Halo nodded. “They’re taking her into surgery.”
“Anything else?” Tackle asked.
Halo walked over to the window and looked up at the sky. “I started a shit show.”
“What does that mean?”
He turned around to face me. “Her mother was the one to tell me they were taking Nick into the operating room. I asked if the baby was going to be okay.”
“You didn’t?” I gasped.
“I did.”
“And?” asked Tackle.
“There was a lot of yelling.”
“Did you get an answer of any kind?”
“Given their shock, I’d say she didn’t look pregnant.”
My brother looked out the window again. His expression was troubled. “What else, Knox?”
“I also talked to Razor. Word is that someone carried out a hit on Caruso.”
“Do they know when?” Tackle asked.
“He thinks within the last hour. He’s working on confirmation now.”
“I’m sorry to sound less than sympathetic, but why does Caruso’s death bother you so much?”
“It doesn’t, peanut. I just don’t like to talk about stuff like that around the baby.”
I smiled and held my hand out to my brother. “Get over here and let me give you a hug.”
After Knox left, Tackle insisted on staying at the hospital with me overnight. “If you’re on bed rest, so am I,” he told me, sitting in what looked like a really uncomfortable chair.
A little while later, when one of the nurses came in to check on me, she told him the recliner in the corner opened to something closer to a bed. He rolled it over so he could still hold my hand when we fell asleep.
The next morning, when my parents arrived, I told them I’d decided to stay at the Chestnut Hill house instead of with them.
“Our house,” Tackle said when he heard how I referred to it.
“I’ll come over and help, and so will your father.”
“I appreciate that, Mom, but it’s still being renovated. You might be in the way.”
“We’re done, except for the exterior,” muttered Tackle, stretching his arms over his head.
“You are?”
“My dad had crews working around the clock to finish up what was left of the inside. Pays to own a construction company, I guess.”
“Tackle, can I speak with you for a minute?” my father asked.
“Of course.”
Both men left the room.
“What’s that all about, Mom?”
“Your father wants to talk to Tackle about a job.”
“He wants to do construction?”
She rolled her eyes. “He’s retiring, and there may be a position with the State Department opening up.”
“Oh.”
I didn’t want to appear ungrateful, but I had no interest in history repeating itself. Tackle knew how I felt, and I hoped he’d at least discuss it with me if he was interested in pursuing it. I hated that it felt as though I was testing him, but I was. If he took the job with State or went back to work full time for K19 and didn’t talk it over with me first, we were going to have a problem. There was no way I would agree to live the kind of life my mother had. But what was the alternative? Would I issue him an ultimatum like I guessed my mother had done to my father? If I did, wouldn’t I be showing him the same lack of respect I didn’t want him to show me?
I thought back
