Braden started as soon as they were on the road. “I’m hungry,” he moaned.
“We’ll get something to eat soon,” Remy told him.
Lane glanced over and smiled, both hands on the steering wheel. Remy wanted to feel Lane’s touch, something comforting on his leg or arm, but his son was in the back seat, so he kept his hands to himself.
Behind him, Braden started moving around. It was distracting, and if it bothered Remy, he knew it had to bother Lane, who was trying to drive. “Settle down back there,” Remy said.
Braden threw one of his bags against the passenger side door. The other followed a moment later.
“Hey!” Remy cried, half-turning in his seat. “Did you hear me? Settle down.”
In a low voice, Braden muttered, “I’m just changing places.”
Remy looked back between the front seats and, sur
