Page 14 of Pickled
“Same. Tell the Tigers to watch out for the Barracuda bite.”
Ace laughed. I would tell him that I loved him next time. “I’m pretty sure that tigers could eat a barracuda. Hey, Goldie,” Ace shouted. “Can barracudas kill a tiger?”
The doorbell rang. Before Goldie could weigh in, I cut the call short. “There’s someone at the door, and my steak is getting cold. See you tomorrow.”
C.C. followed me to the front door. I exhaled before I let myself look through the peephole.
A familiar ponytail. Piper. My breath hitched in my throat. After days of replaying her smile in my mind, she was actually here.
6
PIPER
My hand hoveredover the doorbell while I battled the urge to flee, to hurdle the palm tree and disappear behind the manicured dogwood. It was ridiculous. I felt like a teenager with a crush on the boy next door. Taking a shaky breath, I pushed the button.
He was wearing a Miami Barracudas T-shirt and well-worn jeans. Dimples dented his scruffy cheeks as he ran his hand through his hair.
“Hi.” I could only manage a whisper.
“Hi.” We stared at each other for a couple of seconds. “Do you have any ne—ouch!” He winced, his lips drawing to a line, and he bent to pick up the kitten. “News? Did someone claim this little scratch master?”
I sighed. “No, I’m sorry, Gideon. The news is bad.”
“Oh no.” The kitten had grown but looked minuscule in the crook of Gideon’s tanned arm. “What is it?” He pulled the door open wide. “Would you like to come in?”
Hesitating, I took a step over the threshold. The last time I was in Gideon’s house, we’d been on the fast track to a big mistake. “I can’t stay long.”
He nodded and walked into his kitchen. “Can I get you a drink?” He opened the fridge, the cat still tucked into him like a quarterback with a football. “I’ve got coolers, Coors Light, sparkling water…” Bottles clanked as he rhymed off the available options.
“Sparkling water sounds good.” I had a hard enough time resisting Gideon when I was completely sober. There was no way I’d be able to control myself with margarita running through my veins. Gideon took out two cans of La Croix and set them on the counter.
“Do you need any help?” I chuckled. “It looks like you have to do everything with one arm.” It reminded me of when Olive was a colicky baby and I couldn’t set her down to get anything done.
Gideon looked at the cat like he’d never seen it before, then shook his head. He set him on the floor, filled two glasses with ice, then handed me both the can and the glass. “If I don’t pick him up, he climbs up my leg.” He bent and lifted the hem of his pants. Scratch marks in varying shades of red were slashed across his calf. “Do I look like a scratching post? The little fucker hasn’t touched the damn thing. The only furniture that he scratches is the leather couch and my leg.” His words were angry, but the tone of his voice and the sparkle in his eye gave him away. My heart swelled; he really did like the cat.
“You weren’t joking—you do look like a scratching post.” The water fizzed as I popped the tab on the can and poured it into the glass. That’s when I noticed an untouched plate of steak and potatoes on the counter. “Am I interrupting your dinner?”
“Not at all. I just got off a phone call.”
“I should let you eat.” I set the glass on the counter.
“No, please stay.” Gideon picked up the glass and handed it to me. “Have you eaten? I’ve got more than enough for the two of us.”
My stomach growled as I was about to decline.
“There’s my answer.” Gideon pulled a plate from the cupboard and handed it to me, along with a wood-handled steak knife and a fork.
Something told me that my attempt to decline dinner would be unsuccessful, and I hadn’t had a steak as good-looking as the one on the plate in front of me in what felt like years. Plus, Olive was at a sleepover. It was one of the rare evenings that I had to myself. “Thank you. This looks delicious.”
“Sorry, there aren’t any vegetables.” He shrugged. “I can cut up some carrots.”
“I had a salad the size of my head for lunch. This looks perfect.”
Gideon opened the door to his patio. “It’s a nice night to eat outside.” He handed me a butter dish and a jar of horseradish. “What’s the bad news? We might as well get that out of the way, as long as it won’t make me lose my appetite.”
The heat of the day had subsided, the warm breeze wrapping salty air around us. The news was disappointing, but other than making me question the nature of humanity, I didn’t think it would impact Gideon’s appetite. “No one has claimed the kitten.”
He paused, then continued arranging the plates on the table. “Maybe they haven’t seen the post yet.”
