"What did he say?"
It was as if she doubted her own hearing. A buzzing noise droned in her ears, pricking at her eardrums bit by bit.
A child?
"Don't joke about something like that with me. Please, I'm begging you, don't joke..." She grabbed Jesse Rowan's arms with both hands, her eyes swirling with a chaotic mix of panic and terror.
She was scared.
"Reacting so strongly?" Jesse tutted, lowering his head to pinch her cheek. "I was just messing with you."
"Don't ever make that kind of joke again. Seriously, it's not funny at all." Her fear and unease were palpable.
"You're overthinking. I'm Jesse Rowan, only twenty-two years old. A child? I can't stand kids."
Joan Harry slowly loosened her grip on his arm and let her hands fall.
That's a relief.
Jesse gave her a sidelong glance. "Hurry up and get ready, then come down for breakfast. I don't want to wait too long. My friends are already at the racetrack."
"Okay..."
