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Chapter 18

For a long moment, she studied the supplies, but Court felt her gaze flicker to him a time or two. Finally she reached for a can of Chef Boyardee ravioli and, palming it, asked, “How well do you know Ronnie?”

Court grinned. “Well enough to follow him to the end of the world and back, if he asked. He knows what he’s doing, trust me. He’ll get us to Sumter in one piece or die trying.”

“Have you two been friends long?” Bree pressed.

Hunkered on the floor by the stack of food, Court straightened his back to see over the cans and meet her troubled gaze. “All my life, and I mean that literally. I’ve never known the world without him in it. Why?”

She stared at him, quiet, and he began to think she wouldn’t answer his question. Then her lips pressed flat—not a smile, not really, but something similar. It reminded Court of the look Jeanine would give him when she thought he didn’t notice. “What?” he wanted to know.

“Does he know you’re in love with him?” Bree asked softly.