by Emma Renshaw
Mom and Delilah laughed, and the unexpected jealousy that had been raging in my gut settled.
“If you wouldn’t mind, I’d love some of that soup and tea.”
“Coming right up,” Delilah said and headed toward the cabinets. She opened each one until she found a bowl and mug. She quickly served the soup and tea as I put away the dishes according to the neat instructions on top of each container.
Delilah pulled a TV tray off the rack and set it up in front of my mom. Then she went back to the kitchen and grabbed the soup, tea, and spoon. “Here you go,” she said.
“This smells divine,” Mom said. I couldn’t take my eyes off Delilah and the way she moved with ease in this new space. She was taking care of someone she barely knew so easily and with so much genuine affection. Again, I was fighting my instinct to kiss her.
I zoned out as they laughed and chatted. I simply watched, completely taken by what was happening in front of me. I didn’t let people into my life. I hadn’t really let Delilah into it either, but somehow, in one of the worst situations, she had found a way in. She’d swooped in and cared with ease.
“Y’all should go out and have a drink,” Mom said, winking at me.
“I’m staying to take care of you.”
“You’re not staying here.”
“Yes, I am.”
“You snore louder than a freight train, and this place is too small for that. You’d blow the whole thing down.” Delilah’s face broke out with such glee as she watched Mom give me shit. That was my mom though, trying to fix me up with a pretty girl while also making sure I was humble and never got too big of a head. The nightmare from that morning popped into my mind again and landed in my gut like a lead balloon. I swallowed past the emotion.
“I’m staying.”
“No, you’re leaving. I have everything I need, and I will call if something else comes up. Please, honey, I want to rest. You haven’t lived with me in ten years, I like my space and privacy.”
“Fine,” I said. “Call if you need anything.”
“I will. Now, Delilah, would you mind giving Gunner a ride? He doesn’t have his car.”
“Sure.” She turned to me. “Mind if I drop off the rest of my orders before taking you home?”
Before I could shake my head, Mom answered. “He doesn’t mind. Why don’t y’all go have a drink after? Tuck is with his grandparents. Gunner doesn’t have a life.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I muttered. I wiped a hand down my face to hide the embarrassment creeping up.
“Gunner?” Delilah asked. I looked up at her. Her cheeks were stained pink again.
“I’d love to have a drink with you,” I said.
18
Delilah
The cool fall breeze blew through the open windows of my 4Runner. Orange and red leaves swirled through the air as the tires kicked them up on the black asphalt road. Gunner had insisted on driving while I navigated to each house. He’d said it was so drop-offs would be easier, but he never let me carry the food to the door alone.
His wrist rested on top of the steering wheel, and his fingers drummed on the dash, keeping in tune with the music. I cataloged every movement he made while driving. I barely knew him, only a few facts, but I wanted more in any way I could get it.
“Where is this place?” Gunner asked. I’d been leading him toward Austin, on winding country roads, for about ten minutes. It was our last stop and my personal favorite—not for the company, but for the view. The crotchety old man that lived there had food delivered to him twice a week, and he always complained. I figured if he didn’t like it, he could eat ravioli from a can, but he kept on ordering.
A woman, Adeline, helped him with his house a few times a week, but she wasn’t always there when I dropped off food. I hoped she was today.
“The address is actually Hawk Valley, but the very outer edges. Mr. Crane lives on a huge property. It had been in the same family for generations, but Crane swept in and scooped it up. I think it was once a farm, but isn’t operating as one anymore. He leveled everything and lives in a house he designed. Just wait until you see the view.”
“Maybe I’ll ask him about his realtor when we’re there.” Gunner scratched the dark scruff on his jaw.
I snorted. “Don’t expect a reply. He’s not the friendliest.”
“He’s rude to you?” Gunner’s eyes flicked from the road to my face, arching an eyebrow.
I waved my hand, brushing off the comment. “He’s just a surly old bastard. Nothing I can’t handle. I’m convinced it’s how he shows his love. Besides, sometimes he has an assistant there and she’s great.”
One side of Gunner’s lips tilted up. “I’ll still ask him. If everything goes according to plan, I’ll be playing locally for the rest of my career. I need to be closer to home.”
“Won’t you still be on the road for half the season?”
“Yeah, but it’s better than only seeing my mom a few times a season. I need to be here.” His hand curled around the steering wheel and he gripped it tightly. The hand resting on his muscular thigh clenched into a fist.
Without even thinking about it, I laid my hand on his arm, squeezing gently. “I get it.”
His blue eyes came to me once more, and his gaze flitted around my face. His eyebrows scrunched together, and I wondered when was the last time someone simply understood him, was in his corner without question.
I changed the subject before his thoughts went back to his mom. I knew she’d pushed us out the door together so he could be distracted and away from her. If she was sick tonight, she wouldn’t want him there. I knew that. As a mother, I understood that. As a daughter, I wished she would let him help in any way he wanted.
I vowed to check on her throughout the week, taking some of his demons. Even though I didn’t know him well, I didn’t want him to be alone. The loneliness and the feeling that no one could understand were the ugliest parts.
I changed the subject back to housing. “You want property? Won’t that be a heck of a commute every day?”
He shrugged. “I haven’t officially decided if I want an apartment in the city or if I want property out here. It’s been ten years since I’ve been home. I’d forgotten how much the scenery calms me. The drive wouldn’t be the best, but it’d be a worthy sacrifice for some peace.”
“I grew up in Austin,” I said.
His gaze landed upon me again, and this time a heart-stopping grin accompanied it. His arm flexed as he rounded a curve in the road. Those blue eyes, that smile, and those muscular arms encased in a tight Henley? Panty melting.
I licked my lips and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear as I cast my eyes down, just like I was in middle school and had a crush on the star athlete all over again. “Take that turn on the dirt road coming up. That’s his driveway, just follow it to the house. Yeah, I grew up in Austin, never wanted to leave the city. I loved it so much. At least until my parents bought the inn, and then again when I saw this view for the first time.”
I indicated the house in front of us, which sat near the edge of a bluff overlooking the lake. Rocky bluffs, which almost looked red under the sun, rose high above the deep blue water of the lake. A boat was coasting through, a trail of white, from the motor, behind it.
“When I saw this and lived at the inn for a while, there was no going back for me. This. This is what feeds my soul, and I love that my boy gets to grow up with this in his life.”
“Definitely getting the name of that realtor,” Gunner muttered. He put the car in park and got out slowly, never taking his eyes from the setting sun, falling behind the rolling green hills.
I slid out of the passenger’s seat and walked around the back of the car, popping open the liftgate. Gunner still stood in the same spot, staring out at the view. I smiled to myself. I was the same way the first time I came out here.
The door of the stone mansion opened as I walked around the car with the first box of food. Adeline stood in the doorway with her hands
clasped in front of her. Her long straight chestnut hair hung loosely around her shoulders. She was absolutely graceful in every movement. I didn’t know her well, but I always enjoyed seeing her around town or here at Mr. Crane’s.
Gunner hustled over to me and grabbed the box from my arms just as Mr. Crane appeared in the doorway. He was in his motorized wheelchair and scowling at me. He raised his hand, flicked his wrist, and looked between me and the thick watch on his wrist. “You’re late.” I glanced at my phone. We were one minute late. Mr. Crane liked to create a ruckus at any opportunity.
I opened my mouth to speak, but Gunner beat me to it, throwing himself under the bus. “It was my fault, sir.”
Mr. Crane slid his gaze from me to Gunner and choked. All the blood drained from his face, and he started gasping for air. Adeline spun quickly and crouched down next to him, asking if he was okay. He batted her hands away from him.
“Gunner Gentry,” Mr. Crane said, standing from his wheelchair. He smiled as he stepped off the wraparound porch and came toward us, striding faster than I’d ever seen him move. He smiled. I checked the sky to see if pigs were flying.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Gunner said, tucking the box of food under one arm and extending his hand to Mr. Crane, who shook it vigorously.
“Come in. I have some sweet tea.”
Gunner looked over his shoulder at me and winked as I stood there with my mouth hanging open.
19
Gunner
“I’m not sure what you were talking about. Earl is the best.” I swirled the short glass of whiskey while grinning at a glaring Delilah. Earl had welcomed me into his home with open arms. I’d seen the way he scowled at Delilah before he spotted me, but after that, he was downright sweet to her. She could hardly form sentences to answer him, and I had a hard time hiding my laughter.
“Earl is the best,” Delilah repeated and rolled her eyes. “If I hadn’t been there and if Adeline hadn’t told me that story, I never would’ve believed it. It’s hogwash.”
I smirked when she ended her mini-rant with Earl’s favorite word: hogwash. Delilah ran a hand through her thick, wavy hair. I watched her fingers as they disappeared into her tresses, making the reddish strands stand out from the dark brown underneath the bar lights. She took a long drink from her vodka tonic and slammed the glass down on the bar. “Gah! The only reason I knew his name was Earl was because of his billing statements. He always insisted I call him Mr. Crane! He even offered us his boat!”
I laughed. “I told you, he’s the best.”
“Sure, sure. I may need you to come with me every time I head over there.”
“Always happy to offer my charming services.”
Delilah snorted and shook her head before stealing a French fry from my plate. “Thanks for helping tonight.”
“Any time,” I said. “Have you heard from your cousin?”
Delilah pursed her lips and her eyes crinkled as she shook her head. “No, I haven’t. It’s…well, a lot of things. Worrisome. Terrifying. I’ve been so hesitant to let Tuck out of my sight. Tonight was actually a compromise.”
She twisted on her barstool to face me. I widened my legs and hers fell between mine. I leaned forward, creating a smaller distance between us. “How so?”
“I’ve been telling him no every time he asks to go out.” She shrugged. “I knew if I kept denying him, he’d know something was up, so when my mom picked him up from school and he asked about a sleepover, she said they could stay at her house. I don’t know what to do.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Grab hold of Tucker and run somewhere she can never find us.” She shook her head. “That’s not really true. I want whatever is best for Tuck, and I just hope that’s me. I’m sorry for laying it on you like that. You were probably just looking for a simple answer.”
I reached forward, locking a piece of her hair between my fingers, and gave her complete honesty. “I want to hear everything you have to say.”
She bit her lip and smiled. “I’m sure you’ve heard far more interesting stories than mine.”
“I don’t think so.” I picked up her hand from the bar top and held it. “Are you cold?”
Her hand was like a little icicle inside mine, even though it was warm inside the bar. It was packed tonight, but I was oblivious to everyone except the woman who’d occupied my thoughts more than any other woman ever had. I’ve never let a woman know who I was. My previous relationships had been only surface level, but I wanted everything from Delilah. Every thought. Every laugh. Every quirk. I wanted them all. Everything.
“No, but my hands are always freezing.”
I turned her hand over, palm side up, and traced her fingers. While her hands were smooth, there were little nicks, scars, and even a burn. She had a small burn on the edge of her pinky. I traced it with my fingers, totally engrossed.
Like I said, I wanted everything from her. Every damn inch.
“That burn is a little party favor from my twenty-third birthday. Makenna brought over vodka and, really, the rest is history. She’s pretty persuasive.”
“She always has been. Even back in kindergarten when she convinced Tommy Miller to jump off the jungle gym. He broke both arms.” I chuckled at the memory. I didn’t lose only my best friend the night of the fire, but all of them. I couldn’t face them anymore without him there. It wasn’t the same. We were broken from then on. Growing up in a small town, there’re only so many kids to play with, and when a tragedy strikes, it strikes the entire town.
“I forgot that you know her.” Delilah shook her head. “I’ve lived here for years now and still feel like I’m on the outskirts about some things. Especially everything that happened here.”
My jaw locked tightly, and I took a swig of my whiskey to chase the burn of the memory. “It’s not a night many of us want to remember. What happened on your birthday?”
Delilah rested her free hand on my chest and rubbed her thumb back and forth. I felt the coolness of her hands through my shirt, but even as cold as they were, it warmed my skin.
“Well, it depends if you ask Makenna or me. If you ask me, Makenna tricked me into drinking so much. It wasn’t my fault that the fire department had to be called because she was stuck in a tree, and it was definitely her fault that I made brownies and then tried to get them out without an oven mitt. That’s what the scar is from.”
A loud, surprised laugh rumbled in my chest. “Makenna was stuck in a tree?”
“Yes. I have a picture of Mak up there. It’s great. But again, it wasn’t my fault.”
She pointed at me and made her eyes really round, and my laugh continued to grow. “Would she say that it was your fault?”
“You know what I want?” Delilah leaned forward, trying to distract me with the pretty and mischievous smile on her face.
“What?”
“To dance.”
I rose from the barstool with her hand still in mine and led her to the dance floor. An upbeat, fast-paced country song was playing. Mom had taught me how to dance at a young age. It was something I’d never told anyone about until I got older and knew it would impress the girls.
I took her to the edge of the dance floor, and we watched the couples two-step past us until I found a break in the floor and spun her out and then back in. She landed against my chest with a thud and wide, surprised eyes.
“You can dance,” she said as I swept us across the floor.
I held her a little tighter with every song change, and every laugh that bubbled from her lips brought my mouth closer to hers. She was pressed against my body so tightly, there wasn’t a chance even a piece of paper could be wedged between us. I never looked anywhere but at her eyes. Her hand around my neck coasted up and down my skin.
When the song slowed down, I moved us to the edge of the floor and swayed with her in my arms. Then I slowly lowered my head to meet hers. Her fingers tightened in my hair as our lips met. My hand fisted in the back of her shirt as
I licked the seam of her lips asking for entry. She opened her mouth and our tongues clashed together.
It was loud with the music and other patrons, but I could hear her soft moan as if it were on blast in my ears. The kiss sped everything up at the same time as it slowed everything down. It was entirely too much, setting my need for her on fire, and not nearly enough, as I wanted so much more.
I’d mostly chalked up my mom’s romantic stories about my dad to her missing him, and I’d rolled my eyes when she told me one day a kiss would change everything.
Fuck. She was right. I wasn’t ready to admit it to myself, but some deep, dark part of me knew Delilah had changed everything.
20
Delilah
I didn’t speed through the property the next morning as I drove my golf cart to my parents’ house. It was as if I was out on a leisurely stroll with a silly smile on my face. I leaned out the side and tilted my face toward the sun, soaking in the rays and the goodness of the day. My lips still tingled from last night.
I pulled my red convertible in next to Mom’s pink Hummer. I slipped my sunglasses on top of my head and floated along the stone path to the front door. Whatever chaos was happening inside could be heard as soon as I got to the steps leading up to the front porch. I smiled and was grateful I’d listened to Mom and let Tuck have his fun last night.
I rolled my shoulders back, releasing the last of the tension from the Shayla situation. We hadn’t heard from her since the arcade, and for all I knew, she could’ve packed her bags and hit the road again. It was time though, no matter what, to find out how I could make sure nothing like this ever happened again.
I opened the front door and walked into the house, following the noise to the kitchen. Mixing bowls and measuring cups were everywhere. Bowls of gummy worms, whipped cream, and M&M’s were spread out over the counter. Tuck and Calvin were sitting at the kitchen table with plates towering with waffles sitting in front of them. The waffles were topped with the candy, and each boy was practically vibrating in his seat with excess energy.
