Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Renthrow
“Where’s your daughter?”
I run a hand over my jaw, feeling the brisk sensation of my beard growth filling in. “At home.”
Where I wish I was right now.
“Along with her mother?” The team’s new sponsor stares at me with eyes like a hawk. She’s wearing a red top so bright, it hurts to look at her.
The gaudy outfit and bright red lipstick may fool Max and the team, but I was raised by a powerful force of a woman, so I know an undercover mastermind when I see one. Sasha is the brains of an entire operation, and she’s wearing that bold persona like a costume.
With people like her, nothing should be taken at face value.
I choose my words carefully. “She’s with her grandma right now. I came to pick up our orders.”
Her smile sharpens a bit as if she can tell that I’m onto her game. Slowly, her eyes dip to my naked ring finger.
It’s a dead giveaway.
I haven’t worn a wedding ring for half a decade, and I don’t plan to wear one again—much to the chagrin of all the old ladies in Lucky Falls who want to marry off their daughters to the town’s youngest single dad.
For a moment, Sasha stares at me like she wants to press the matter, but then she backs off.
The tension in my shoulders releases.
Crisis averted, for now.
Max clears his throat and starts up another conversation. I wish he’d done that three minutes ago when I was getting grilled.
I drum my fingers on the table and glance over my shoulder to the bar. Mauve and the other servers are speeding back and forth from the kitchen to the crowd. They look stressed. It’s game night. A winning game night at that, and the entire town is out celebrating.
Service will be slow for a while.
“Hey! Another round of drinks for our boys!” a patron yells.
Someone brings a tray over. The entire bar roars with shouts and applause as our table buckles under the weight of yet one more load of ice-cold beers.
I slide the mugs down to Theilan and Watson who eagerly accept the glasses and down copious amounts of alcohol with enthusiasm.
I’d join them for a drink if I didn’t have to drive, but Gordie’s waiting for me, and I’m not getting behind the wheel of a truck drunk.
My plan was to slip into The Tuna and hunker down at the bar with some root beer until my daughter’s chicken nuggets were plated and bagged. I knew it was going to be a long wait. But now that Max roped me into joining their table, we’re the center of attention, and time seems to be crawling.
“Where on earth is Cordelia?” the new sponsor mutters, glancing down at her diamond-studded watch and then up at the door.
Instinctively, I glance around too. Yeah…where is the “cool lady” my daughter can’t stop talking about lately?
I can’t say I’m disappointed by her absence. Sitting across from the new mechanic after her little…prank? Game? What do you call it when a total stranger grabs your arm and tries to pass you off as her boyfriend?
I don’t know.
And I don’t particularly care to find out.
I note that Cordelia is nowhere to be found and return my gaze to the table, only to notice the sponsor eyeing me. She offers a sneaky smile and tips her head in my direction.
My heart stops beating.
Looking around for Cordelia was a severe miscalculation on my part. When Sasha asked about her daughter, it wasn’t out of concern for her whereabouts.
It was a trap.
“It’s okay, dear.” Sasha pats my shoulder like I’m Gordie when she’s about to take a flu shot. “Cordelia loves her bike and tends to lose track of time when she’s riding. She’ll be here eventually.”
I force a smile. Oh boy. “Ma’am, I need to clear something up. Your daughter and I aren’t—”
At that moment, the Tipsy Tuna’s front door slams open.
My attention is drawn to the woman who struts inside. And I’m not the only one who’s got eyes on her. Theilan, our youngest on the team, makes a low whistle. Watson, our goalie, says something that sounds like “Mama Mia.”
It’s kind of hard to miss her, given the thick leather jacket, pasted-on black jeans showing every womanly curve, and the sharp black hair cut bluntly to just above her shoulders.
Cordelia’s eyes catch on mine and widen as she assesses me sitting next to her mother.
I remember those soft brown eyes filled with unspoken pleas for help, and a part of me withers with guilt.
She’s the one in the wrong. Not you.
I made the right choice stepping away from her charade. My daughter is my number one priority, and I’m not going to bring a woman into her life on a whim, even if that whim is beautiful with raven hair, a stunning face, and eyes so big and bright, she could play the human version of Bambi.
With all the live-action remakes Hollywood is pumping out, I wouldn’t be surprised if she got a call soon.
I’m so focused on her beauty that I miss the scowl crossing her face at the sight of me. She yanks her motorcycle gloves off while stalking toward the table like she’s gearing up to throw a punch at my face.
“Delia!” Sasha scoots a chair over. “Sit here.” The older woman pulls out a seat next to me.
Her daughter looks pointedly at the chair, nose turned up and mouth a perfect upside-down U, and then she takes the seat beside Max. It’s not a better option, though, since Max is directly across from me which puts her directly in my line of sight.
“What took you so long?” Sasha asks, pushing a bottle of hand sanitizer at her daughter. “I went ahead and ordered the baby back ribs and fries.”
“I don’t eat red meat, Mom,” Cordelia says stiffly, a furrow in her brow. It’s a simple enough statement, but it’s delivered so sternly that I wince.
“Oh. Oh, right, it was…” Sasha seems dazed. She inhales shakily before saying, “You’re the one who ate fish.”
Cordelia’s chin tilts down, and she stares a hole in the table.
The air gets silent and chilly. Our table is about three individual four-seaters pulled together, but it suddenly feels like we can’t all fit.
Max booms out an awkward laugh. “Fish? That’s about the only meat they don’t have anymore.”
“It’s called ‘The Tipsy Tuna’ and they don’t serve fish?” Sasha exclaims, forcing a smile.
“Believe it or not, there’s been a fish shortage around here,” Max says with a shake of his head. “Climate change and all.”
“It’s fine. I’m not that hungry anyway. I’ll just drink something,” Cordelia mutters. She pulls the menu toward herself, but her hands are shaking so badly that she sends the menu skittering to the floor instead.
“I’ve got it,” Max says, reaching down. “But I don’t think drinks are on this menu.”
Sasha stares at her daughter, worrying her bottom lip. “Yes, I think the drinks menu came separately. Let me find that for you.”
“It’s okay,” Cordelia clips. “I’ll just have water.”
There’s another beat of suffocating silence.
The tension between mother and daughter is thick enough to deflect a puck shot, and I realize that I might have misinterpreted Cordelia’s actions earlier. There could have been a more serious reason for her grabbing me than I initially assumed.
Feeling restless and guilty, I search the table for the drinks menu and find it tucked beneath one of the complimentary beer trays.
“Here,” I say, offering it to the mechanic. “If you’re not feeling beer, they have coffees, tea, and soda.”
Her lips purse in anger, her nostrils flare. “Thanks, but I’m fine,” she says tensely.
The drinks menu in my hand flops down like a balloon losing air.
And…now I look like an idiot.
I lower my arm and tuck the menu back in the napkin dispenser. When on earth are my nuggets coming out? I need to get out of here.
“Max, what do you recommend? I can’t decide between these two.” Cordelia tucks her head toward our team manager.
They look awful cozy over there.
“It depends. How buzzed can you get tonight?” he jokes.
Her eyes sparkle. “I’m not much of a drinker, but I’m ready to learn if you’ll teach me.”
I snort.
What kind of banter is this?
It’s nauseating.
And obvious.
But I, for one, am glad she found a new fake boyfriend. Kudos to her. May she and Max have a fake life of fake happiness.
Why are you so ticked off? You rejected her first.
I know.
I must be tired. It’s been a long day, and I’m out here waiting for chicken nuggets instead of being back home unwinding after our win.
“That sounds delicious. I think I’ll go with that.” Cordelia smiles at our team manager, and I almost fall out of my seat.
She knows how to smile?
The sight of her pretty lips stretching up catches me off guard. It’s too soft. Too delicate. A smile that sweet is almost out of place in that tough-as-nails package of hers.
Great. Now my heart is beating fast. Out of annoyance, of course. Because why am I still here watching this? Where are my dang chicken nuggets?
I know I should have held it together when Gordie pulled the puppy-dog-eyes-pushed-out-bottom-lip combo while asking for chicken nuggets at this hour. She’s getting her way far too often lately, and I’m going to lose all parental authority by the time she’s a teenager.
“Let me order for you,” Max says, lifting an arm to get Mauve’s attention.
“That’s so sweet. Thank you,” Cordelia coos.
My eyes find hers, eyebrow arched in challenge. Got claws in your new victim, I see.
The set in her jaw would be evident from a spacecraft. She narrows her eyes and flips her hair in an unspoken instruction to find the nearest bridge and do my best Olympic diving routine off of it.
“Renthrow, here’s your chicken nuggets, and you tell my precious little girl not to overeat this late at night,” Mauve says, prancing over to the table with my food.
And not a moment too soon.
“I’ll tell her, Mauve,” I say, shooting to my feet.
“Take care, and don’t overdo it on your day off tomorrow,” Max says, nodding at me.
“Later, Renthrow!” Theilan and Watson wave, already turning pink in the face from all the drinking.
My eyes sweep over Cordelia again, but she sticks her nose in the dinner menu, pointedly ignoring me.
“See you later, ma’am.” I throw a curt nod at our new sponsor and hustle outside, ready to drive home to my daughter and never think about this strange, confusing night again.