“I could get used to this,” she said. “The only people who have ever cooked for me are my parents, and usually I’m in the kitchen helping them. Or if someone is interviewing for a cook position at the inn.”
I stirred the meat again and looked up, connecting with her eyes. “Any time you want my specialty, I’ll make it for you. A piece of boiled, flavorless chicken breast and a bag of steamed frozen vegetables.”
She wrinkled her nose and curled her lip. “That doesn’t sound good at all.”
I shrugged. “It’s not. Most of the time I eat whatever the team caters, which is along the same lines. Healthy and often bland.”
“Tuck said you’re a free agent? That you’re not on a team right now? What does that mean?”
“When I’m on a team, I’m an agent of the team or employed by that team. As a free agent, I’m an agent of myself. I’m not under contract with any team, but will sign with someone during this off-season.”
“But it won’t be the team you were with before?”
I shook my head, picking up the beer that was next to her leg. My knuckles grazed her outer thigh as I lifted the bottle to my lips.
“No. At least, most likely not. They aren’t known for handing out larger contracts.”
Delilah nodded and opened her mouth to ask another question, but her phone rang. “Sorry,” she said and picked up the phone next to her. She rolled her eyes. “It’s Colt. This usually means he did something and now he’s wondering if I’ll be angry.” She answered the phone. “What’s up, Colt? What’d you do this time?”
I took another sip of beer and faced the pan in front of me, giving her a little bit of privacy. Delilah jumped off the counter and screeched. “What?”
My entire body locked at the urgency in her voice, and I turned around, watching her pace in front of the island. Her hand was shaking as she ran it through her hair, and her face was filling with color.
“Oh my god,” she muttered over and over again. “Is he okay?”
At that question, I reached back and flipped off the stove, moving the pan to the back burner, away from the heat. I picked up the beer bottle and half-emptied wine glass and placed them in the sink.
My eyes stayed on Delilah. Her breaths were coming rapidly and roughly. She gripped the edge of the counter as she listened. “I’m coming. I’m coming over there right now. Is she still there?”
Delilah hung up the phone without saying goodbye and raced around the kitchen. “Where are my keys? Fuck. Where’s my purse?”
I snatched her car keys from the counter and stepped in front of her. “I have your keys. Let’s go. I’ll drive.”
“Gunner. Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I have to go. Can we reschedule? I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll make a lasagna for your mom later. I promise, I just have to go.”
“That doesn’t matter right now. Let’s go. I’m driving. You’re freaked out, it’ll be safer if I drive and get you to wherever. Forget about the lasagna.” I ushered her to the front door. She kept nodding.
She tripped as she hurried to the car, rounding the hood to get in on the passenger’s side. I got in on the driver’s side and started the engine as I moved the seat back so my knees wouldn’t be against the steering wheel. “Where am I going?”
“The Arcade. It’s over on—”
“Birch. It’s been there forever. I know where it’s at.”
I peeled out of the driveway and drove as fast as I could through the inn’s property. Delilah was gripping the door handle with one hand and staring down at her phone in the other hand.
“What’s going on? What are we walking into? Is Tucker okay? Is he hurt? Is Colt okay?”
“Oh, god,” Delilah whispered, covering her mouth. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. He’s mine.”
At this point, I wasn’t even sure if she’d heard me or realized I was still in the car with her. She was in a trance and talking to herself. I didn’t know who was hers and what she didn’t know. I prodded her again, hoping to break her from the spell.
“Talk to me, Delilah. Is everyone okay?”
I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. She turned toward me. Her chin quivered, even as she raised it defiantly in the air, readying herself for whatever I would come back with after she got this off her chest. “Tuck isn’t biologically mine.”
My eyes left the road for a second and focused on her. I raised an eyebrow. He looked almost exactly like her. I supposed that was possible with adoption though. “He’s adopted?”
“Not technically,” she answered with a lot of hesitation in her voice.
“What does that mean?”
“My cousin lived with my family since she was eleven. We were so close, even before she lived with us. We were practically sisters. Even before.”
I rolled through a stop sign, after quickly checking the empty intersection, and raced toward Birch, still completely unaware of what we were about to face. No matter what it was, though, I’d stand by her side and help in any way I could. “Before what?” I asked.
“My cousin’s parents died. That’s why she lived with us. She was never really the same after that, but we were still close. Even when she started doing drugs, I stayed by her side. I dragged her from party after party, hid it from my parents. Well…I hid it until I couldn’t anymore. Until I realized this wasn’t just a teenage rebellion thing. She was out of control. I hate myself for hiding it for so long, for thinking that I could help her without anyone else knowing.”
I reached over the console to grab her hand. She dropped her phone in her lap and laced our fingers together.
“She’s an addict and she’s Tuck’s real mom. He doesn’t know. The day after she had him, she asked me to go get her a pudding while we were waiting for discharge papers. I went, and when I came back to the room, it was just Tucker there in his crib. She was gone. I haven’t seen or heard from her until a few weeks ago.”
“What happened a few weeks ago?” I squeezed her hand and smoothed my thumb over her silky skin. She squeezed my hand tighter and brought it closer to her.
“She wrote me a letter. She wants back in Tuck’s life. I don’t know if she’s sober, but I can’t lose him. He’s my son. He’s mine. I’m his mom.” Delilah furiously wiped away the tears streaming down her cheeks. She blew out a frustrated breath. I heard the snap of her teeth as she clenched them in the quiet cab.
“And then she called me from a blocked number. She was watching us from somewhere, but I couldn’t find her. Now she’s at the arcade. Colt spotted her. She hasn’t approached them, but she won’t leave. Colt tried to make her go while Tuck was distracted. He doesn’t want to alert Tucker to anything, which is how I want it. I’m not sure what to tell him or how. Or even what to do. In that first letter, she threatened legal action from the jump.”
“She can’t do that,” I said. “She hasn’t been around. I understand if she wants to try for a relationship with him, but she can’t take him. Can’t Colt call someone from his department?”