Page 175 of Sloane

“Legally? Probably not. Not yet, anyway, since I haven’t been to the DMV. But I lost my left leg—I drive with my right.”

Grace turned to Maddie to plead my case. “It’s a grey area…”

“It’s really not.”

“Come on,” Grace continued. “Quit being such a hard ass.”

I added my two cents.

“You just got done telling me to man the fuck up.”

“You can man up in an Uber.”

Grace dug through her purse, pulled out her keys, and handed them to me, telling Maddie, “Sorry,” as she did.

“Leave my name out of it if you get pulled over.”

“Don’t worry, I will.” I looked at her with a shit-eating grin. “I’ll be dropping Craig’s name.”

He was a captain.

Grace called as I walked toward the door, “You can drive a stick, right?”

Turning around, I shot her a look, knowing damn well her car had an automatic transmission. “Ha ha, smartass.”

“Oh, come on, that was funny.”

“Okay, yeah, that was a good one.” I offered up one last wave. “Hopefully I’ll see you guys in a bit with Ashley and my daughter.”

“We’ll set an extra plate.”

****

Ashley

I sat downstairs on the couch reading an RJ Gray military romance book while Millie slept in her playpen. Military romance had been my jam lately. I didn’t have to wonder why.

I’d just gotten to a steamy scene when there was a knock at the door, startling me. I’d put my phone on silent, so I hadn’t heard the cameras. I wondered why whoever was at the door didn’t ring the doorbell.

My body froze when I heard the code being punched in the lock, followed by the door opening, but then Sloane’s voice called out, “Hello?” and my shoulders relaxed.

What on earth is he doing here?

I set the book down and stood, looking down at my grey Cal State sweatshirt and black yoga pants to check for crumbs from the cookies I’d been munching on. Because I was home alone until tomorrow, I hadn’t bothered with makeup, and I’d thrown my hair up on top of my head in a messy bun. But at least I’d showered and brushed my teeth earlier.

“In here,” I called softly as I walked toward the entry, only to stop short when I saw him walking toward me, unassisted.

He looked good.

Really good.

I dared to say that even his swagger had returned. A hard feat with a prosthetic leg, I imagined, but he was pulling it off.

“Hi.”

Hopefully I didn’t sound as giddy as I felt.

“Hi,” he said back. The corner of his mouth turned up, revealing that dimple of his I’d always wanted to kiss.

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