Page 333 of Romeo

When I looked toward Jasper, his wedding band caught the light on the steering wheel.

I smiled.

He noticed immediately. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“That smile ain’t nothin’.”

I let my eyes drop deliberately to his hand. “I was thinking about my husband.”

His mouth curved. “Handsome bastard?”

“Annoying bastard.”

“You still married him.”

“I was under pressure. There was a priest standing there.”

“A priest my mother practically ambushed us with.”

“That sounds like grounds for an annulment.”

Jasper reached across the console and took my hand. “No refunds on Cajuns, Ma Belle.”

I laughed and laced my fingers through his. We spent the next stretch of road arguing about which member of our family would realize we were missing first. I put my money on Granny. Jasper insisted his mother had some kind of supernatural ability to sense when he was doing something she would disapprove of. We agreed Georgie would be the loudest once someone told him, and I made Jasper promise we would eventually call before my brother convinced himself I had been stuffed into the trunk.

It felt easy. Almost ordinary.

That was probably why I noticed so quickly when Jasper stopped being ordinary.

The first time he checked the rearview mirror, I thought nothing of it. The second time, I noticed only because his eyes stayed there slightly longer than necessary. By the fourth, I had stopped watching the scenery entirely.

Jasper still held my hand. His shoulders remained loose, and nothing in his face would have looked unusual to someone who didn’t know him. I did. There was a particular stillness that came over him when his attention narrowed onto something. I had seen it in smaller ways during conversations when he was deciding how much truth to give me. I had seen a much darker version in the parking lot when he pulled the man off me.

I waited.

A sign ahead indicated the road continuing south. Jasper took the turn east instead.

I stared the sign as it disappeared behind us. “Did you miss the turn?”

“No.”

His answer was too simple.

A few miles later, he turned again.

I watched his profile. “What are you doing?”

“Checkin’ somethin’.”

There it was. A very Jasper answer. Technically informative while telling me almost nothing.

I twisted around enough to look behind us. Several vehicles traveled the road; none close enough to seem important. A white pickup. A sedan. Farther back, a dark SUV that looked like a thousand others I had probably passed without noticing.

“What are you checking?” I asked.

Jasper glanced at the mirror again. “Not sure yet.”