Trouble

“It’s for a good cause.”

We see alligators, enormous green pythons, tree frogs, and of course, an adorable koala bear baby. It’s a full afternoon of walking—or in Oliver’s case, running, jumping, and climbing—and by the time we’re driving back to my place, he’s out cold on the backseat of my “cool space car,” as he calls it. Something to do with the inventor sending bored billionaires into space.

Joselyn looks up at me from where she’s sitting quietly in the passenger’s seat. “Good work today. You couldn’t have been sweeter to him, and I think it’s so important for him to see a nice man outside of the teachers at his school.”

Her words provoke a sad nostalgia, but I force a smile. “It was a fun day.”

She squints an eye at me. “Why do I feel like you’re not telling me something?”

It’s uncanny how this woman can read my expressions. I’m accustomed to watching people, reading them for any change, any indication I need to take control of the situation. It’s a reflex honed after years of survival, and I’m not used to it being turned on me.

“It’s possible I have more in common with Oliver than you know.”

“In what way?” Her brow furrows, and concern fills her pretty eyes.

My throat constricts, and a flight response seizes me. I’ve cracked the door on a past I locked away long ago, and I’m not planning to revisit it. I don’t know what the hell made me do it, and knowing Joselyn, she won’t let it go.

Thankfully, Oliver interrupts our conversation. “Can we get ice cream?”

“Of course.” I lift my chin, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror. “I can check in with Julian and see if he can whip something up for us after dinner.”

“Does Mr. Julian make your food every day?” His little brow furrows like it’s a wholly new concept.

“Not every day. He usually cooks dinner three days a week, and I cover the rest with leftovers or takeout.”

“Don’t you know how to cook for yourself?”

I see Joselyn covering her mouth, and I shake my head. “I hate to disappoint you, but my culinary skills are rather limited.”

“What’s cuuli…” Oliver trails off attempting to repeat me.

“Culinary means of or for cooking.”

“So you can cook some things?”

My lips quirk. He’s smart. “Actually, I make a mean grilled cheese. I can also scramble eggs…”

Joselyn’s face lights up with a smile. “I’d like to try some of your scrambled eggs and grilled cheese.”

“I don’t make them at the same time. Honestly, I can’t remember the last time I cooked anything.”

We’re back at the house, and Courtney’s car is in the garage. We left Joselyn’s ridiculous bomb of a minivan back at the apartment complex to throw the ex off our trail. I can’t imagine him looking for them here, although I’d welcome a confrontation with him.

“Mom’s home.” Ollie sits up straighter in his seat.

I turn off the engine and close the garage before letting him out—just in case. “Tell her about the koalas, and I’ll be sure Julian has ice cream on the menu for dessert.”

He jumps out of the car, and Joselyn gives me a warm smile. “Thank you for this. For all of it.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I had a free day, and I wasn’t going to let the two of you wander around the zoo alone. That seems careless.”

Her lips press into a line like she’s fighting a grin, and I’m not sure if she believes me. It doesn’t matter. I need to know if the private investigator I hired turned up anything on Ozzy Clayton. I have no intention of letting that guy get away with what he did to her.

Chapter 25

Joselyn

“Tree frogs can’t swim.” Ollie is sitting on the couch across from Spencer with his little legs crossed. “They have to get water through their skin. They use mucus on their feet to help them climb.”