36. Thea
36
THEA
The early morning sun shone down on Shep and me as we strode toward The Mix Up, Shep’s fingers laced through mine as if we’d made this walk every day for the past decade. It felt that comfortable. Something had shifted last night.
Shep was no longer holding himself back from me. And while I wasn’t sure he’d ever not treat me as something delicate, I could see now that it was because I was precious to him and not because he didn’t believe in my strength.
We slowed as we approached the door to the bakery, and I turned to face Shep. “You know you didn’t have to drive me.”
He brushed the hair out of my face with one hand, keeping hold of my fingers with the other. “I wanted to. I’ll take whatever time I can get with you. I’m selfish that way.”
I grinned up at him, knowing the smile ate up my face but not caring in the slightest. “I like you selfish.”
Shep’s voice pitched low. “Just like I like you greedy.”
My body heated, memories of last night flooding my mind.
“That blush. Killing me, Thorn. I want to trace it with my tongue.” He lowered his head, taking my mouth in a long, slow kiss. As if he had all the time in the world.
A hoot sounded from behind me, making us startle and break apart, and I whirled to see Lolli doing some sort of jig toward us, hands raised in the air, bracelets jangling.
“I knew it!” she cheered. “Finally got you someone to put some life back into you, Shep.”
“Lolli,” he warned.
“Don’t you ruin my fun. Can’t a grandmother be happy that her grandson’s getting some of the good stuff?” She turned to me and winked. “It’s always the proper gentlemen with the most surprising skills between the sheets.”
“Lolli!” we both yelled at the same time.
I turned, burrowing my face in Shep’s chest as I dissolved into laughter.
“Boundaries,” Shep growled at his grandma.
Lolli made a pssh sound. “I hope you’re not that uptight in the bedroom.”
“I do not want to be having this conversation,” he snapped.
“Don’t be such a prude. Sex is a normal act. Nothing to be ashamed about.”
“I’m not ashamed. I just don’t want to talk about it with my grandmother, in front of my girlfriend.”
I pulled back at that, my mouth curving. “Girlfriend, huh?”
A little pink hit Shep’s cheeks. “I sure fucking hope so.”
Lolli made a tsking noise. “You haven’t even DTRed? I thought I taught you better than that, Shepard Colson. You never let a good one get away.”
Shep looked confused. “DTRed?”
Lolli let out an exasperated sigh. “Defined the relationship. Get with the program.”
Shep just shook his head and then looked down at me with an amused expression. “I’d apologize, but this is just going to keep happening, so I don’t think it’s even worth it. ”
One corner of my mouth kicked up. “I don’t know, I kinda like your apologies.”
Shep let out a growl, pitching his voice low. “If you make me hard in front of my grandmother, I’m going to make you pay later.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. “Promises, promises.”
Lolli let out a squeal as she clapped. “I just love this!”
Shep sighed. “What are you doing here so early anyway? You’re never up before eight.”
She grinned back at us. “I’ve got The Devil’s Lettuce convention over in Roxbury today. I’m selling my special cookbooks.”
My brows pulled together. “The Devil’s Lettuce?”
“She means pot,” Shep muttered. “She’s going to a weed convention. Jesus.”
Lolli glared at her grandson. “You sound like Trace. He thinks I’m going to get kidnapped by some drug cartel. I’m just selling cookbooks.”
“Pot cookbooks,” Shep argued.
She huffed, brushing invisible crumbs off her flowy dress. “I have to give the people what they want. I have the best brownie recipe in three counties.”
Shep looked down at me. “When you come to dinner, and Lolli offers you any sort of baked good, just say no.”
“You’re no fun,” Lolli complained. “You know, I’ve got this new strain that’s really supposed to ramp up arousal. I could bring you some?—”
“Lolli!”
I moved a rag over one of the many empty tables, but we’d gotten hit with the pre-holiday weekend crush earlier. If it was a sign of what was to come, we would be slammed.
The bell over the door jangled as it opened, and I looked up to see Luca running inside. “Thee Thee! Look what I made! It’s so freaking cool!”
The overexcited-little-boy tone had a smile tipping my lips. “Show me.”
“It’s a real model of an ice rink. Just like the Seattle Sparks. Now I can memorize plays and stuff.” Luca said, lifting the model for me to look at.
Sutton chuckled as she crossed the space, blond hair swishing around her. Her arms were laden with bags, a pile of mail, and multiple layers of kids’ clothing Luca had clearly discarded throughout the day. “His camp counselor took pity on him and made arts and crafts hockey themed for Luca alone.”
“She gets me,” Luca said with a bob of his head. “She knows I’m going to be the biggest bad booty enforcer just like The Reaper. So, I gotta start now.”
Sutton’s nose scrunched. “I really hope you have a better nickname than that when you start playing.”
“Mooooom, The Reaper is the coolest name in the league.”
She sent me a wistful look. “I used to be cool, but already I’ve lost my shine.”
“You’d be cool if you wanted to learn to skate, too. Then we could practice all the time,” Luca suggested helpfully.
My lips twitched. “I’ve got your nickname. The Bad Booty Baker.”
Sutton laughed. “It does have a ring to it.”
Luca set down his model and began dancing around the bakery, shaking his little hips. “Bad Booty Baker! Bad Booty Baker!”
“You’ve done it now,” Sutton moaned.
“We can make T-shirts,” I said with a chuckle.
She set down her piles of stuff and began to go through the mail as Luca ran behind the counter, no doubt in search of cupcakes. “Oh, I forgot. There was something in the mail pile for you.”
I stiffened. No one sent me mail except Nikki. And she sent all correspondence to my PO Box a few towns over.
My mouth went dry as I reached out for the envelope Sutton held. The lettering was in a boxy shape, the kind that disguised any sort of ownership. Some part of my brain could register Sutton going on about her weekend plans with Luca, but I was too focused on the letter to truly hear her.
My fingers trembled as I tore open the envelope flap. I tugged out a piece of computer paper. On it was a picture. One of me. It looked like it was from afar, the quality was grainy, but I recognized the outfit I’d been wearing yesterday as I headed into The Mix Up. On the top of the paper read SLUT in angry red letters. But it got worse.
Parts of my body were circled. Next to my legs read FAT . My face, UGLY . My breasts, WHORE .
And it all sounded just like Brendan.