15. Thea
15
THEA
I hummed to myself as I gripped the kittens’ carrier with one hand and balanced the box of bakery treats on the other—goodies left over from today that would make for the perfect dessert. Shep and I had fallen into a routine of sorts over the past week and a half.
He would show up at my place around four, once I was back from the bakery or nursery, and always with some sort of meal in tow. We’d eat on the back deck, and Shep would ask questions that stayed firmly in the here and now. He was careful never to push, letting me share whatever I was comfortable with. Then he’d get to work.
And I’d just happen to wander by a window to catch him without his shirt on after an hour or so. Total coincidence.
I jerked out of my lusty haze and narrowly avoided colliding with a barrel-chested body in front of me. “Sorry,” I mumbled.
“Careful, darlin’. You could get hurt if you don’t watch where you’re going.” The smarmy tone of Russ’s voice made a shiver skate down my spine. I hadn’t seen him since I’d made that visit to Castle Rock Construction, and I hadn’t seen Raina either. There were times she wouldn’t come into The Mix Up for days on end, but she never went longer than a week. I didn’t want to think about what her absence could mean.
“Long day,” I said, scooting to my left to move around him.
But Russ moved with me, taking the bakery box from my hand. “Here, let me carry that to your bike.”
“That’s okay. I’ve got?—”
“I insist,” he cut me off.
The pulse point in my neck thrummed. I didn’t want this man anywhere near me. But I also didn’t want to make things worse than they already were. We were on a public street in broad daylight. Tourists were poking in and out of shops, and locals enjoyed the beginning tendrils of summer. I was fine.
I started toward my bike where I’d locked it just at the edge of the building, not thanking Russ for the so-called help I didn’t want.
“So,” he began, his tone falsely light, “who’d you find to fix your leak and water damage?”
“Shepard Colson’s working on it.”
I felt Russ’s footsteps falter more than I saw it. “Must have money to burn, then.”
My back teeth ground together. “He’s doing me a favor. I’m friends with his sister.” The truth was, Shep had only let me cover the cost of materials so far, and I knew he was giving me his contractor’s discount on those. But I was determined to find a way to repay him.
Russ scoffed. “Box Baby probably just wants to fuck you.”
I whipped around to face him. “Excuse me?”
Russ’s chest puffed up like a ridiculous impression of a baboon. “You heard me. Don’t be an idiot. He’s trying to get in your pants. But be careful. Box Baby leaves a trail of broken hearts in his wake. Just ask around. He acts like the town golden boy, but the bastard’s anything but.”
There was so much to unpack in that tirade that I didn’t know where to start, but one thing stuck. “Box Baby?”
Russ’s eyes lit with cruel pleasure. “Haven’t heard the story? Shep got left in one of those haven boxes at the fire station. Even his own ma didn’t want him.”
The urge to slap the man in front of me was so strong I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from stooping to his level. Instead, I jerked the bakery box out of his hold with my free hand. “Get the hell away from me. You wish you could be half the man Shep is. But you never will be. Because you’re a sleazy, rude, mean person. And my guess is, you’re worse than that.”
Russ’s brows lifted in shocked surprise for a moment, and then he sneered at me. “Already fuckin’ him, I see. Good luck when he tosses you away like the trash you clearly are.”
As Russ stalked down the street, the trembling set in. He was nothing more than a bully, but I knew bullies could do unconscionable things when they set their minds to it.
“It’s okay,” I whispered to the kittens, who’d begun meowing at the sounds of our raised voices. “We’re okay.”
My hands shook as I lifted their carrier into the trailer at the back of my bike. It took three tries to fasten them into place, then I placed the bakery box in front of them so it wouldn’t get jostled. But as I threw a leg over my bike, I froze.
How had Russ known I rode a bike?
The thirty-minute ride home should’ve calmed my nerves, but I was glancing over my shoulder every two seconds, looking to see if anyone followed. It was possible that Russ had simply seen me riding around town. That was the most likely scenario. I’d had this bike for almost as long as I’d lived here. Still, his cruelty and knowledge of my habits had set me on edge.
It reminded me too much of Brendan. Someone who had extricated every possible detail about me under the guise of getting to know me, or in the name of intimacy, and then used the information as a weapon. To aim at the places he knew would inflict the most damage.
My body shuddered as I rode down the gravel drive, swerving to avoid potholes. Catching sight of my house and the silver truck parked in front of it had a burn building behind my eyes. Because I knew I was so close to safety.
I did everything I could to force down the tears. I thought about the flowers I planned to add to the front garden after Shep filled in the trench. I thought about what I might harvest from the greenhouse and give to Shep to pass on to his mom. I thought about how Moose loved playing in the yard and watching Shep as he worked.
All of it helped. Just not enough.
I pulled to a stop in front of my walkway. Shep was already striding toward me, a huge grin on his face. “I had to go to Roxbury today, so I got Indian. I’m not sure this will be my new favorite, but I got a bunch of things to try. And I made sure samosas were on the list. You might have to reheat stuff, but—” His eyes locked on my face, and all the pleasure drained from his. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
Of course, Shep could see right through me, no matter how much happy imagery I ran through in my head. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Bull,” he growled. “You’re shaking like a leaf.”
I shoved my hands behind my back as if that would hide the truth.
“Thorn,” he whispered. “What happened? Please.”
It was the please that did it. The beseeching tone with a hint of desperate need. The burn was back, and I desperately tried to blink it away. “It’s stupid.”
Shep moved then, slowly coming into my space but giving me all the time in the world to show him I didn’t want him there. But I didn’t move away, didn’t step back. His hand came up, and he brushed strands of hair out of my face. “It’s not stupid. Not if it’s affecting you like this.”
My heart hammered against my ribs. I wanted so badly to just tell Shep everything. But I couldn’t. There was too much shame wrapped up in it all. But I still wanted to give him something. A tiny piece that could possibly help him understand.
“I had a run-in with Russ Wheeler. ”
Shep’s hand tightened in my hair, and a low, rumbling noise that sounded a lot like a growl emanated from him. “What. Did. He. Do?”
“He didn’t touch me,” I hurried to say. “He was just…a jerk, I guess. Crass, cruel. It wasn’t him, not really. It’s just…he reminded me of someone. Someone I don’t ever want to remember.”
Pain sliced through Shep’s eyes. “Fuck.” Then he pulled me to him and hugged me.
It wasn’t that I hadn’t been hugged in the past two years. Sutton and Rhodes both gave me the occasional squeeze, but it was nothing like this. Shep’s arms engulfed me as he crushed me to his broad chest. I felt all that strong muscle surrounding me, could feel the beat of his heart against my cheek, and all as the scent of sawdust and cedar swallowed me whole.
A lump formed in my throat as Shep held me, not showing any signs of letting go. Slowly, my arms went around him, and I held on. I let Shep take a little of the weight I’d been carrying around for so long.
“He gutted you,” Shep gritted out as his hands sifted through my hair. “Cut you right to the quick because that’s the kind of man he is. And it makes me want to show him true pain.”
My hands fisted in Shep’s white tee. “I yelled at him.”
Shep pulled back a fraction, one brow arching. “Letting those thorns fly?”
My lips twitched. “He said some stuff about you. Got my hackles up.”
Shep’s fingers stilled in my hair. “What’d he say?”
My mouth went suddenly dry. “It’s not important,” I mumbled. I was an idiot.
“Thorn,” he said, tugging gently on my hair to bring my focus back to him.
I sighed. “Something about you being abandoned as a baby. In a not-very-nice way.”
“Called me Box Baby?”
There was an emptiness in Shep’s voice that set me on edge. “Yes,” I whispered .
“Was a thing in elementary school. Russ just never grew out of it,” he muttered.
My gaze lifted to Shep’s. “I’m sorry. It’s cruel.”
He shrugged. “It’s life. And it’s not like it’s untrue. I ended up with an amazing family in the end.”
But something said Shep wasn’t giving me the full story. He wasn’t sharing just how much this all hurt him. But I didn’t blame him. We all had tender spots we weren’t ready to show the world.
“What else did he say?” Shep pressed.
My gaze shifted to the side.
“Thorn…”
“He said you were only helping me because you want to fuck me.”
To my surprise, Shep burst out laughing. It was a thing of beauty. Because, this close, I not only heard every note, but I also felt them. Each vibration hit me right in the chest.
Shep grinned down at me. “I’m not gonna lie and say I wouldn’t love my hands on your body, but I’m helping you because I can, and you need it. Makes me feel…worthwhile. And I need that.”
A riot of emotions stormed through me. Panic, desire, worry. I shoved down the first two and forced my eyes to Shep’s. I lifted a hand and pressed it to his cheek. The stubble pricked my palm, sending a pleasant shiver through me.
“You’re worthy, Shepard Colson. You don’t have to fix anything to be that. You don’t have to dig a million trenches or replace feet of corroded piping. You’re worthy just for who you are.”
Those amber eyes flashed with specks of gold as he stared down at me. “Thea,” he croaked.
I let my hand drop as I stepped out of his hold, knowing if I stood there a moment longer, I’d do something I couldn’t take back. Something I knew I wasn’t quite ready for, even if I wanted to be. But I could give him something else.
“Why don’t you come inside? I’ll reheat the takeout, and you can help me feed the kittens.”
Shep’s eyes flashed again. “You sure? I don’t have to?— ”
“I trust you, Shep. Come inside.”
He didn’t move for a long moment, just stayed in place, waiting to see if I would change my mind. That patience and kindness had a little piece of me starting to fall. I shoved that knowledge down and moved back toward my bike.
That spurred Shep into action, a gentleman through and through. He handed me the box of bakery treats and then unhooked the kittens, lifting them from the carrier. As they meowed, he ran his finger across the front of the cage as if to soothe them.
As nervous as I was, that action soothed me, too. The simple kindness of it.
But still, my heart hammered against my ribs as I approached my front door. I slid my free hand into my pocket and tugged out my keys. My hand trembled as I found the right one. It took two tries to get it into the lock, and the sound of the deadbolt turning resembled a gunshot or cannon, some sort of deafening blow that only my ears could hear.
My hand stilled on the knob for the count of one, two, three. There was no turning back from this, but a growing piece of me yearned for the existence-altering move. To begin to let people in. To let Shep in.
I twisted the knob and opened the door. After stepping inside, I motioned for Shep to pass. “The kittens have a pen in the living room just down the hall.”
Shep walked past me, his movements slow and methodical, giving me all the time in the world to let me correct his course if he crossed into any space I didn’t want him in. That, too, was a gift. I shut the door behind me and locked the supersized deadbolt the same way I had a million times before. The only difference was that someone was on the inside with me.
My body vibrated with a mixture of nerves and anticipation as I moved down the hallway. I set the bakery box in the kitchen where Shep had deposited the bags of Indian food and followed the sounds of the soft meows coming from the living room. I came to a stop in the threshold, watching as Shep gently placed each ball of fluff in their pen—so careful and tender. It swept away a little more of the nerves.
As Shep placed the little gray female in the pen, he stood and turned to face me. He didn’t move, simply studied me, a silent check-in. “How do you feel?”
I stared at him for a long moment and then told him the truth. “Good.” Tears pressed against the backs of my eyes. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to take this step.”
A mixture of emotions played behind Shep’s amber gaze, but one settled in. “So damn proud of you, Thorn. How about we celebrate with some Indian food?”
“That sounds perfect.” And it was.