Page 60 of My Hotshot

When we’d arrived, Duane had led us straight to a bedroom.Lottie’sbedroom, singular. A room with one twin bed. I’d hoped—stupidly—that Duane meant for us to stay together, but when I saw the bed, that hope had popped like a balloon.

Not that Icould’veshared a bed with her tonight. I’d tried talking to her. Tried to parent. She’d just shrugged and said she understood. That she was okay with everything. And that she liked Duane.

I still didn’t know how that happened. She’d barely spoken to him for twenty minutes.

After a while, she’d asked for a shower. I told her I’d be back with something to eat.

Adalee had appeared like she’d been waiting for her cue.

We walked past a large open area where a few people were hanging out and talking quietly, then into a surprisingly clean kitchen just past the bar.

Adalee opened the fridge and pulled out two plates with a smile. “We had enchiladas for dinner. Hope that’s okay. If not, I can whip something else up.”

The second she lifted the foil, the scent hit me—warm, savory, and rich. My mouth practically started watering.

“Oh, that’smorethan okay.”

She chuckled and popped them in the microwave. “What do you want to drink? We had margaritas, but those never make it past dinner.”

“Water’s fine.” I tried not to feel awkward. “I can just grab a couple bottles.”

“Bottom shelf,” she said with a nod.

I crouched, grabbed two waters, and stood just as the microwave dinged.

Adalee handed me the plates, and the aroma got even better. Melted cheese, seasoned meat, just the right hint of spice. It was like comfort on a plate.

“Thank you again,” I said, juggling the water and the plates. “This is… really thoughtful.”

“Just holler if you need anything else, okay?”

I smiled and made my way back down the hall.

I nudged open the bedroom door and stepped in. The room was warm and dimly lit by a lamp. I set her plate on the nightstand and sat at the desk to dig into mine.

Andwow.

Adalee was no joke. I closed my eyes for a second just to savor the first bite. I was halfway through the plate when Lottie came out of the bathroom with her hair wet and twisted into a bun on top of her head.

“Isthatwhat smells so good?” she asked, her eyes zeroed in on my plate.

I nodded toward the nightstand. “That’s yours. And you can stop drooling over mine. Adalee made you a plate, too.”

Lottie clapped her hands together like a happy seal and beelined for it. She climbed onto the bed, cross-legged, and dug in.

We ate in silence, and when the plates were scraped clean, she leaned back against the wall with a sigh.

“You gonna lecture me again?” she mumbled through a yawn. “Or can that wait till morning?”

I licked a smear of sauce off my finger and shook my head. “It can wait. I think you’ve had enough for tonight.”

I picked up our plates and stood. “But tomorrow, we’re going to go over about twenty different scenarios and what youshould’vedone in each one.”

She groaned. “Great.”

I turned at the door. “I love you.”

She smiled sleepily as she pulled the covers up. “Love you too, Mom. I’m really sorry.”

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