12. Shep
12
SHEP
I wanted to break something. No, I wanted to break some one . And that someone was whoever had put this level of fear in Thea. Only it wasn’t just fear. It was terror.
She blinked up at me, trying desperately to clear away the tears. “Alone is the only place that’s safe.”
Her words scored me, leaving scars in their wake. “Alone isn’t a place. It’s a state of being. And no one can stay that way forever. Every person on this planet needs others. Needs to share their burdens with someone.”
I felt a pull from somewhere deep. A demand that I be that someone.
Thea stared at me for a long moment, her deep brown eyes searching. That was the thing about Thea. She watched in a way others didn’t. Withstood the quiet to give herself time to truly see. I’d seen her do it countless times at the bakery, taking time with an older woman who came in each day because she was lonely without any family around. Crouching in front of the bakery case with a little kid, helping her decide between all the amazing cupcakes.
But now, she was taking that time with me. Her intelligent gaze burrowing deep, silently assessing before she gave me anything. And when she finally did speak, I wasn’t surprised the words packed a punch.
“Do you share your burdens, Shepard?” Her voice wasn’t loud or soft, but it hit hard just the same.
I usually hated anyone using my full name. Too long. Too formal. Too many connotations of guiding sheep in the olden days.
But Thea saying it? It was like a stroke to the senses. Her tongue wrapped around each syllable like it was a precious thing.
My throat worked as I swallowed. “I’ve got a family that rivals a football team, who helps me whenever I need it.”
A hint of amusement danced in Thea’s eyes. “And how often do you let them do that?”
I snapped my mouth closed. I couldn’t remember the last time one of my siblings had helped me with something instead of the other way around. It wasn’t that they were selfish and didn’t offer; it was that I didn’t let them help. Or, more often, I didn’t let them know I needed help.
Her perfectly plump lips twitched. “That’s what I thought.”
“Trust me,” I said, “they are all up in my business. Nosy as all hell.”
Thea’s face softened, and I felt a little more of her anxiety melt away. “I’m glad you have that.”
An ache took root in my chest because I knew Thea didn’t. At least, not as far as I could see. “You have siblings?”
I wanted to kick myself because she stiffened the moment the question was out of my mouth.
“No siblings.”
I nodded, wanting to know more but knowing she’d just retreat if I pressed. “They’re a blessing and a curse.”
Her smile was back. “I bet. ”
I opened my mouth to ask something more innocuous, just because I liked hearing the sound of her voice, when I heard a beep.
Thea pulled something from her pocket, silencing the sound. I realized it was an old-school digital watch. I hadn’t seen one in decades.
She brushed the hair out of her face. “I need to feed the kittens.” She glanced between me and the front yard. “Do you need anything? Or?—”
“I’m good,” I assured her. “Got everything I need in my truck. If I have any questions, I’ll knock.”
She slid the watch back into her overalls’ pocket—overalls that in no way should’ve been sexy but somehow were. The way the front dipped down, exposing just a hint of cleavage from her tank top. Or how the sides were low enough that I knew I could run a hand along her waist down to her hip or…go even farther.
Jesus. I needed to get a grip.
Thea looked up at me. “Thank you. For doing this. For being…patient.”
Tiny fractures opened in my chest. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”
We didn’t. Not really. The longer it took for me to get into the house, the greater the chances that mold and rot could take root and spread. But I wouldn’t rush her. If it happened, I’d rip out every affected beam and replace it. No matter how long it took.
Her tongue darted out, sweeping across her lower lip. “Thank you,” she said again and then hurried into the house.
I watched until she’d disappeared behind the front door. I heard the lock latch. Not just a deadbolt, but a chain, too, if I wasn’t mistaken. And as I studied the industrial deadbolt on the piece of wood, I knew I wasn’t.
A muscle twitched in my cheek. What the hell was she hiding from?