Page 39 of Hot Pursuit
“Woo…” Nate tried to match her enthusiasm. He really did. He just wasn’t born this way.
Jo shook her head, letting her hair whip. “Woo-hoo!”
Nate sucked in a deep breath, thinking about nothing more than wiping that challenging look from her eyes, and let himself go. “Yee-haw!”
Her eyes widened to saucers in the mirror. She rolled her lips in, biting down to keep them from spreading. And then she copied him. “Yee-haw!”
“Woo-hoo!”
“Ride ’em cowboy!”
“Yahoo!”
“Weeee!”
The ride stopped.
The world came tumbling back.
Nate tore his gaze from Jo’s reflection, dropping it back down to the people around them. He’d never known six-year-olds had the power to be so judgmental, but yeesh… Nate shivered from the heat of their glares. Jo took his arm and pulled him from the firing squad.
“Kids are mean,” he grumbled.
“Total savages.” Jo nodded. “Ooh, soft pretzels!”
Nate shook his head. Having a conversation with her was like constant whiplash. “What?”
“Soft pretzels,” she repeated, nudging her chin in the direction of a park vendor.
Street food? Why does it always have to come down to street food?
Nate shook his head. “No. This is where I draw the line.”
“At soft pretzels?” she asked, face twisting in confusion. But then she shrugged and held her hands up. “I’ll let you have this one. See? I can compromise.”
Nate snorted.
Jo shook her head and sauntered off. Nate watched her, eyes drawn almost against their will to wherever she was. And then he noticed a man over her shoulder, sitting on a bench, gaze sharp, studying her.
Nate narrowed his eyes.
Why did that man look so familiar?
Where had he seen him before?
Jo walked back. “Sure you don’t want a bite?”
“No,” he replied, distracted.
And then he remembered.
Earlier today, he was on our first bus.
And then again, I saw him in Times Square.
We have a tail.
Nate put his hand to the small of Jo’s back and turned her, gently shifting so they walked in the opposite direction. “Did you notice that man on the bench?”
