“My grandma never let me help her cook. She said it took too long when I helped.”
“Took too long? You are cutting those beans so precisely there’s no way you could go quicker. I think you’re a great help. My little sous chef.” His eyes light up when I offer compliments. Every single time.
“Thanks, Maevey. Do you know what Daddy and Uncle Isaac are doing in the garage?”
I lick my lips. I hate being deceptive with him, but it is for the best. “They’re trying to find something they need for their training trip that is coming up.” Another pang to my chest. He’s leaving, and the nervous energy that it causes me is overwhelming. Not just because someone has it out for us, or me, or him, because Rexy died while on a run-of-the-mill Navy SEAL training trip. “Aunt Tasha will be here soon to take you for your sleepover. Are you excited?”
Turner stays quiet. “I’d rather stay here with you, Daddy, and Chonk.”
My heart thumps raggedly. I can’t argue that the boy is happiest when we’re all together. I need to talk to Lincoln about it. “Uncle Isaac said they were doing chocolate fondue for dessert! I can’t compete with that. We won’t do anything fun, I promise. You aren’t going to miss anything.” I wrap my arm around his tiny shoulders. “How’s your leg feeling today?”
“Good!” He lights up. “It doesn’t hurt at all.” Turner looks like he wants to say something, but thinks better of it.
“If it is hurting, you need to tell me so I can fix you up. You know that, right?”
He nods, brown hair falling into his blue eyes. I brush it away, and he hesitantly meets my gaze. “But if I get better, you’ll go away.” Of course, a small child wouldn’t understand. Especially because Lincoln hasn’t given him many details about our relationship or why his doctor makes home visits.
Like a ghost when he knows he’s needed by his son, Lincoln drops into the kitchen. “Maeve isn’t going anywhere, Turner. Even when you don’t need physical therapy. She’s here for good. Don’t worry about missing out on Maeve time tonight. We’ll be together all the time now.”
“With Chonk?” Turner asks, eyes lighting.
I nod. “With big ole’ Chonk. Of course.” To Lincoln, I say, “I let him eat salad first because he was hungry.”
Lincoln grins and looks at Turner. “Well, that must have been disappointing. Grandma would have whipped you up cookies before dinner.”
“Oh,” I say, realizing I’m messing this kid thing up. “Sorry.”
Lincoln laughs and drapes his arm around me. “You’re apologizing for giving him healthy food? Don’t. Turner, go get your bag, Aunt Tasha is in the driveway waiting for you.”
He returns with his bag and a raggedy stuffed dog under one arm. “I like your salad, Maevey,” Turner says. “Bye.” He hugs my leg. Lincoln takes his bag from him and walks to the front door. “Be right back,” he tosses over his shoulder.
Tasha bustles in as Turner puts his hand on the door handle to exit. “I have to meet her. Don’t keep her locked in the basement away from civilization.”
Tasha is exactly as Lincoln described her.
Her eyes lock on me. “Oh, she’s perfect. I Googled her, but wow, in person she is high-def technicolor beautiful, with brains to boot.”
I clear my throat and nerves. “Well, thank you. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Maeve Ahern.”
We shake hands. “Oh, I know exactly who you are. I’m so happy to finally meet you. This guy hasn’t shut up since he found you online.” Tasha holds up a finger. “That sounded bad. When he was doing research for Turner and saw your website online. Not in a creepy way.”
Not like what’s happening in my real life right now, I think. Every time I drive, I obsess about the cars behind me.
Warmth blooms in my stomach. Meeting someone from Lincoln’s life is a huge step. Isaac was friendly and a bit like I expected. While Navy SEALs all have different personalities, they’re also the same in many ways. It takes a special, gritty, intelligent person to become a SEAL and I’ve got the magnanimous traits down to a T at this point. Tasha lets go of my hand.
“Not in a creepy way,” I parrot back. “I’m happy to meet Lincoln’s friends. Now that we’re out, I suppose. I’d love to hang out with you sometime.” There’s so much I’d love to ask her. She has a direct link to Lincoln’s brain before I came into the picture. She’ll know everything—the whole uncomfortable story, I’m not brave enough to ask about. He shared what he chose to, asking for details would seem obtrusive.
“I’d love that!” Tasha says. We exchange contact information and the oven beeps, signaling dinner is ready. “Let’s get Turner out of here so you two can enjoy a night to yourselves.”
I blush furiously. “It’s more of a sting operation,” I offer, voice quiet so Turner doesn’t hear. He’s not paying attention. Chonk is licking his face with a vicious fervor. “Trying to end this once and for all.” Lincoln has told Isaac and Tasha all of the gory details about the stalker. Mostly his Teammates are surprised it’s taken him this long to take matters into his own hands.
She groans. “I have my suspicions, but a lady never spreads gossip.” Tasha rolls her eyes. “I hope you find something.” My stomach sinks, but I keep a smile on my face.
Lincoln takes Turner outside and Tasha leaves after promising to make plans soon. My appetite has fled the building, but I still plate for two and sit at the dining table sipping cool white wine. Isaac blusters into the room holding a computer monitor that looks like it’s from the 90s. Under his other arm is a more modern looking flat screen. Lincoln follows behind, carrying a
