"You always were practical," Sam said with a wry smile curving her lips.
Jo forced a smile in response and then said solemnly. "I am going to ask you one question though."
Wariness immediately crept over Sam's face. "What's that?"
"Are you happy?" Jo asked, and then raised her hand to stop her when Sam opened her mouth to answer at once. "Think about it. I mean it. Are you happy? It's all happened so fast. You've quit your position at the firm, moved in here with Mortimer, and started a whole new—and from what I can tell—very strange life. Are you sure it's what you want? Are you sure you won't regret any of this later? Is there any reason at all that I should be worried about you?"
Sam appeared to be seriously doing as Jo had requested and thinking about it. Then she let go of the breath she'd apparently been holding.
"I am very happy," Sam assured her solemnly. "It has all been very fast, but I am positive I won't regret any of the choices I've made. I love Mortimer and he really does love me, Jo. I know you don't understand a lot of what's happening, but—" Her words died abruptly as Jo hugged her. Her eyes were wide and questioning when Jo stepped back.
"That's all I wanted to hear," Jo assured her quietly. "It's enough. I won't ask questions you can't answer… for now," she added quietly.
Sam smiled crookedly and agreed, "For now."
"That's settled then," Jo said with feigned good cheer as she turned away to collect her backpack. She peered out the window at the driveway. Spotting the SUV pulling up, Jo gave Sam a smile as she opened the door. "Now I'm going home to bed. My head is killing me."
"Make Bricker stop and pick up some breakfast for you on the way home," Sam said firmly, following her out the door.
"I heard that," Bricker announced, slipping out of the front passenger seat to open the back door for Jo. He took her backpack, saying, "Get her breakfast. Will do."
"She'll be a good mother, don't you think?" Jo said dryly as she slid into the backseat.
"That she will." Bricker's voice was solemn as he set the backpack on the floor by her feet.
As he closed the door, Jo glanced to Sam, a frown claiming her lips as she saw the stricken look on her sister's face. Apparently Smart Sam hadn't connected being in love and having regular sex with possible future babies. Jo sincerely hoped Smart Sam hadn't forgotten about birth control. If she had… well, a baby would be an interesting development, she supposed. She didn't mind the idea of becoming an aunt.
"And we're off."
Jo turned her gaze forward to see that Bricker had hopped back in the front seat and was pulling the door closed. The moment it slammed shut, the man behind the wheel, a dark-skinned, grim-faced fellow, set the vehicle in motion.
Jo shifted forward on the backseat and peered at the driver more closely. She hadn't met him at the party, but she might as well have. Like all the others, he was a perfect version of himself, with glossy, short black hair, perfect pores, and shiny white teeth.
"You must be Anders," Jo commented, recalling Mortimer mentioning the fellow.
"Seat belt," was his growled response.
Jo raised one eyebrow and glanced to Bricker.
"Anders is a man of few words," he said almost apologetically.
"So I see," she commented dryly.
"Seat belt on or vehicle stops," Anders said firmly.
Jo snorted. "Very few words if he can't even bother with little words like the, goes , or please ."
"The seat belt goes on, please, or the vehicle stops," Bricker said, using those little words Anders hadn't.
Jo chuckled at his imitation of the other man's deep growl, but sat back to do up her seat belt. She didn't miss the little sigh Anders released at Bricker's teasing, though, and it made her grin. She peered from Bricker's good-natured face to the back of Anders's head and said, "So how come you weren't at the party last night?"
Anders was silent for a minute and then glanced to Bricker. "Is she speaking to me?"
A snort of amusement slid from Bricker, but he nodded. "Yes, Anders, I'd guess she is."
He turned back to the road, and Jo was just deciding he wasn't going to answer her question when he said, "I was working."
"Really?" she asked with interest, leaning as far forward as her seat belt would allow. "Working on a Saturday night? What do you do?"
There was a pause and then he said simply, "Hunt."
Jo raised her eyebrows and drawled dubiously, "Right."
Silence fell in the vehicle as they reached the gates at the end of the drive. Two men were stationed at the guardhouse today, she noted. One rushed to open the inner gate for them while the second stood at the booth and watched them pass. She wondered briefly if the added security was because of Bad-Breath Boy's visit last night, and then they were out and heading up the road.