32. Thea
32
THEA
My eyes felt like a tiny elf had taken sandpaper to them overnight. Sleep had not been my friend. I’d tossed and turned for hours, replaying the night’s events. I’d thought the encounter with Russ would haunt me. But that wasn’t it.
It was the feel of Shep’s callused fingers on my leg. The heat of him. I couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel if he slid those fingers just a bit higher.
Hell.
I threw my covers off. I didn’t care that it was only five-thirty. If I didn’t move, I would lose my ever-loving mind.
Moose let out a disgruntled meow. He was not one for early mornings. Rolling over onto his side, he put his paw over his eyes.
“Must be nice,” I muttered. Moose never had any trouble sleeping.
I moved to my tiny closet and pulled my pajama top over my head, tossing it into the hamper before doing the same with my bottoms. I grabbed my towel from a hook and wrapped it around me. When I reached my door, I paused.
Listening carefully, I didn’t hear anything—no signs of another soul stirring, not even the kittens. It was too early, even for them.
I opened the door to the dark hallway. The only glow was from the slight warming outside the kitchen window. The sun wasn’t up yet, but a sliver would likely appear in the next thirty minutes or so. At least I’d have light to tackle my chores.
Padding down the hall barefoot, I stilled next to Shep’s door. Closed. I gripped the top of my towel harder because my fingers so badly wanted to reach for that doorknob. Wanted to twist and dare to step inside.
Instead, I moved toward the bathroom. Sighing, I opened the door. And came face-to-face with a wall of Shep.
I let out a strangled squeak as I took him in. I’d gotten a snapshot before. A peek at the wall of muscle, but I’d never had a view like this. This close, I could see every dip and ridge. The dusting of hair across his chest. The way those defined pecs dipped into rippled abs. I swore there were way more than six.
And then that V. I nearly swallowed my tongue at the sight of the muscle that disappeared into a low-slung towel.
Holy hell.
“Morning, Thorn,” Shep said, his voice husky.
My gaze shot to his face. “I-I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were up. I mean, I didn’t know you were in here. I’ll just go?—”
“You’re fine.” His amber eyes danced with amusement.
“It’s not funny,” I hissed. “I could’ve walked in on you in the shower.”
“You would’ve gotten an epic concert then.”
Annoyance flamed brighter. At his casualness and the fact that he wasn’t nearly as affected as I was. “Haven’t you heard of locking the door?”
Shep moved into my space. The heat still clinging to his skin from the shower wafted off him in waves. It was a heady, thick heat. A drugging one. He was without the usual sawdust scent that clung to him, but the cedar was still there, even stronger now. It had to be his bodywash or shampoo.
I had the sudden urge to sniff every bottle that resided in my shower. Use every single one so I could carry Shep with me all day. I was officially losing it.
Shep leaned even closer, reaching behind me and twisting the knob. “Lock’s broken. I could fix that for you, but I’d be sad to miss out on future surprise visits.”
I sucked in a breath. He was close. So close it felt like the tiniest breeze would send us colliding into each other.
Shep’s gaze dropped to my mouth, then lower, taking all of me in. I watched in fascination as those amber eyes heated. But then they froze—not on the swell of my breasts or my exposed legs, but on my arm.
The heat in Shep’s eyes vanished in a blink. Suddenly, they were ice-cold. “He. Hurt. You.”
I jolted in surprise, glancing down at myself and following his line of sight. There, on my arm, was a distinctive handprint bruise. You could see the outline of four fingers as clear as day.
Shit.
I’d always bruised easily, but this was something else. I knew Russ had grabbed me hard. I just hadn’t thought it would be this bad.
My focus shifted back to Shep. His chest rose and fell in ragged pants, his hands clenching and flexing around nothing but air as he struggled for control. I moved into him then, not caring that we wore nothing but towels or that this level of anger should’ve sent me running for the hills.
All I cared about in that moment was easing the fury running through Shep, the pain. I lifted a hand and pressed it to his face. “It’s nothing. I’m totally fine.”
“You’re not fine ,” he ground out. “You’ve got fucking marks on your body.”
“Marks that will fade in a matter of days. I’ve always been an easy bruiser. ”
Shep’s eyes finally came to me. The coldness was gone, but hot anger had taken its place. “I should’ve done more than break his nose.”
I slid my hand down to the back of his neck, squeezing. “No, you shouldn’t have. And I’m pretty sure he’ll be staying far away from me for the foreseeable future.”
Shep lifted his hand, his gaze moving to my arm. With featherlight fingers, he traced the bruises. “This never should’ve happened.”
“No, it shouldn’t have. But bad things happen. That’s life. I’m lucky that I had five people at my back last night. Five people who took care of the problem and made sure I was okay. But most of all, I’m lucky I had you .”
Shep’s breaths came short and quick. “Thorn.” His eyes were back on my mouth.
God, I wanted to taste him. To lose myself in all the goodness that was Shep.
He leaned in. So close.
A bellowed meow broke out behind me. It startled me, and I nearly tripped over my feet as Moose moved between us, yelling at us both. I swore he sounded like a disappointed parent.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “Once he’s up, he demands food.”
One corner of Shep’s mouth kicked up. “I’ll get it. You take a shower.”
“You sure?”
He nodded and made a move to slip past me. But then he stilled. He bent his head and brushed his lips across the bruised skin. “I’d do anything to take this away.”
My breath hitched, coming in quick pants now. Shep straightened, moving past me and into the hallway, Moose on his heels, meowing away. But I stayed frozen to the spot, the place Shep’s lips had touched still burning.
I pulled the frittata from the oven and slid it onto the stovetop. It looked amazing. But it should. I’d gone all out. Because I’d needed a distraction. After a very cold shower, I’d dealt with the kittens and then took care of the greenhouse.
But I’d still been twitchy, feeling like I might crawl out of my own skin. So, I’d decided to make a fancy frittata for breakfast. Plus, I had the heirloom tomatoes of the season. I’d paired them with mozzarella, parmesan, fresh basil, and arugula, then added some caramelized onions.
Stepping back, I was impressed with myself. All we needed was some toast from the fresh sourdough I’d made the other day, and this would be perfect.
Footsteps sounded behind me, but I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t. Just thinking of seeing Shep had my face flaming. I could still feel his lips on my skin. Like an echo of a burn that would mark me forever.
“Please, tell me whatever just came out of that oven is something you’re sharing with me.”
Shep’s words had a little of the tension and anxiety bleeding out of me. Taking a deep breath, I turned. “How do you feel about a frittata?”
He grinned at me. “Sounds fancy.”
“We are very fancy over here. Heirloom tomatoes, two kinds of cheese, greens, caramelized onions.”
Shep just shook his head. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to have a hard time kicking me out in a couple of months.”
I stilled at that. He’d only been here a few days, and already, I didn’t want him to leave. I liked having the company. And more than that, I loved having Shep here. It was as if his light cast a warm glow that had been missing.
Shoving that down, I crossed to him. “How’s your hand?”
“It’s fine.” Shep flexed his fingers in a testing motion, but I didn’t miss his slight wince.
I grabbed his hand gently, lifting it for perusal. The skin along his knuckles was torn, and the joints were swollen and already turning black and blue. “Shep. ”
“It’s fine.” He lifted my chin, his thumb ghosting along the swell of my bottom lip. “A price I’d pay a million times over.”
I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but a knock on the door cut off my words.
Shep stiffened. “You expecting someone?”
I shook my head. As a fresh wave of nerves built, I quashed them. Nobody who wished me harm would knock on my door. Taking a deep breath, I moved to go answer it, but Shep stopped me.
“I’ve got it. It’s probably Rho checking on you.”
But the fact that Shep didn’t want me to answer told me he wasn’t entirely sure of that. It also told me he cared. Shep wanted to stand between me and anything that might hurt me. The knowledge lit a war of emotions within me.
Gratitude that he cared. Relief that I wasn’t alone in this. And fear. Because Shep couldn’t protect me from everything. And I knew he would carry that weight with him.
“Trace,” Shep greeted, surprise in his tone. “Everything okay?”
“Yes and no,” a deep voice answered.
I’d seen Shep and Rhodes’ eldest brother around town before, but I’d always tried to steer clear. I hadn’t had the best experiences with law enforcement back in LA. At best, they’d been overextended, not having time for my problems that didn’t exactly fit into the regular crime report box. At worst, they’d been both skeptical and judgmental, making it seem like I’d brought all of it on myself.
“Can I come in, or are you going to make me stay out here freezing my ass off?” Trace pressed.
While it was summer, the early mornings in the mountains were always cold.
Shep turned to me, not letting his brother in, a silent question in his eyes.
I laced my fingers in front of me, squeezing hard and trying to ground myself. “He can come in.”
Things would look far worse if I refused him entry. And Trace would just have more questions. He might start digging and looking into me .
Shep didn’t move for a moment as if giving me a chance to change my mind.
“It’s okay,” I whispered.
He sighed, annoyance clinging to the sound. “Come on in. But beware of the cat. He’ll try to take your hand off if you have food.”
Moose let out his chattering meow from somewhere in the living room.
“Noted,” Trace said, stepping inside. His gaze moved over the entryway, then down the hallway to me. It stilled. It wasn’t harsh or cold, but it was assessing. Something about the way those deep green eyes moved told me they took in more than the average person. And that knowledge had me swallowing hard.
“Morning, Thea. I’m sorry to disrupt you this early,” Trace said, trying to keep his expression gentle.
“Where’s my apology?” Shep asked, smacking his brother’s arm as he moved toward me.
“The little brother who used to think it was funny to throw water balloons at me while I was sleeping does not get an apology for an early visit.”
That had my lips twitching and a little of the tension bleeding out of me. “Water balloons, huh?”
Shep sent me a sheepish smile. “You should’ve heard him curse. Trace got pretty creative.”
I chuckled. “I would, too.”
Shep moved to my side as Trace approached, giving me silent support.
Trace extended a hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you officially. Rho has had only the best things to say about you.”
I took his offered palm and shook, noticing just how handsome the local sheriff was. Dark hair with just a hint of salt and pepper at his temples made his green eyes stand out all the more. As did the scar that bisected his eyebrow.
“Rho is just glad she doesn’t have to do the heavy lifting on her own anymore,” I said, trying to keep a smile in place.
Trace grinned. “That is definitely true. ”
No one said anything for a moment, and I couldn’t help but feel like we were all waiting for a bomb to drop.
“I just pulled a frittata out of the oven. Want to join us for breakfast?” My voice had a thread of tightness to it, but at least I’d made the offer.
Trace arched a brow. “Frittata, huh? No wonder Shep wanted to stay with you instead of Cope.”
Shep grinned at that. “I’m not an idiot.”
“Most of the time,” Trace shot back, then turned to me. “I’d love to join you.”
At least I had a task. I hurried to cut slices and plate them while Shep got juice and coffee.
“That’s a pretty impressive greenhouse you’ve got,” Trace said, inclining his head to the kitchen window.
“My favorite hobby,” I said as I slid a plate in front of him.
Trace eyed the creation. “You sure it’s not cooking? This looks incredible.”
“That’s high praise from Trace. He’s a pretty incredible chef himself,” Shep said as he pulled out my chair.
I glanced at Trace, curiosity piqued.
He sent me an easy smile. “I didn’t come by it naturally. Had to learn from the ground up. But I developed a love of it over the years. There’s something about the process of creating something new.”
Something about the gruff sheriff liking to spend time in the kitchen relaxed me even more. “It’s meditative,” I said softly.
Trace nodded. “That’s a good word for it. And if I win over my six-year-old, I feel like I’ve won a prize.”
I laughed at that. “Picky eater?”
“The pickiest,” Trace said with a groan.
We were quiet for a moment, all of us taking time to eat a few bites. It was Shep who finally spoke. “You gonna tell us what you’re here for or what?”
Trace sat back in his chair, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Russ Wheeler came in at about six this morning, wanting to make a report about an assault. ”
The few bites of food I’d taken turned to lead in my stomach.
Shep’s spine snapped straight. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. He grabbed Thea. He?—”
Trace held up a hand. “I know. I’ve already talked to John and the bartender who was on at The Sagebrush last night. They told me what happened. I’ll get corroborating statements from patrons. This won’t go anywhere.”
Shep ground his jaw. “He could press civil charges.”
“He could,” Trace agreed. “But those won’t go anywhere either.”
But a court case would be costly and public. My name would be out there, easy to search, to find. My stomach roiled. But it was more than that. It could do the same to Shep just by association. My presence could mess with Shep’s life and livelihood.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, the three words barely audible.
Shep turned to me instantly, his body almost cocooning me. “This is not on you. Don’t you dare take it on your shoulders.”
“If I hadn’t?—”
“No,” he snapped. “This is on Russ. And honestly, it probably has more to do with me. He has always hated me. Never knew why.”
“Jealousy,” Trace said. “You know his home life wasn’t great growing up. His dad is just as much of an asshole as he is. Hard on him. He knew you had it good with the Colsons. And let’s be honest, Shep, you’ve always excelled at things he struggled with.”
Shep let out a long breath. “There’s just something bad in him.”
I didn’t disagree. Russ Wheeler didn’t have any redeeming qualities that I could see. But Trace wasn’t so quick to go there.
“You know bad is rarely born that way. It’s made. Through trauma, abuse, hardship. But once it takes root, it’s hard to dig out. I keep hoping that I’ll be able to stick something on Russ and wake him up.” Trace’s gaze cut to me, and I stiffened.
“I-I can’t. I’m sorry. I just…I can’t press charges.”
I knew that was what Trace wanted. But I couldn’t give it to him. For many reasons.
Trace sighed, lifting his mug of coffee to his lips.
“Don’t guilt her,” Shep growled .
Trace held up a hand, waving his brother off. “I’m not. I just…I want to put him away for a spell. Want to give Raina a chance to know what life can be like without being under his thumb.”
My gut twisted, Raina’s glittering eyes flashing in my mind. “I want to help her,” I whispered.
Shep took my hand, squeezing. “I know you do. But we’ll find a way. Fallon’s going to talk to her.”
“Really?” After a taste of Fallon’s kind and empathetic energy, I knew if anyone had a chance of reaching Raina, it was her.
Trace nodded. “She’s been trying to figure out an approach where she’ll have some time with Raina without Raina worrying Russ will show up.”
I mulled that over for a moment or two. “Maybe you could call him in for a follow-up to his report. Have Fallon ready to go then. You could text her whenever Russ is leaving the station.”
Trace’s brows lifted slightly. “Good idea. You work secret missions before?”
My mouth wanted to smile, but it couldn’t quite get there. Between Russ making trouble for Shep and what Raina might be facing at home, it was all too much. “We have to help her,” I said quietly.
Shadows passed over Trace’s eyes. “I know. We’re going to do everything we can.”
Shep leaned in, brushing his lips over my temple. “We’ll get a hand out to her. She just has to take it.”
But when you’d been that beaten down, moving in any direction was the most terrifying thing in the world. Even if it was your only hope of freedom.