Page 32 of Delicate Escape

Sutton’s brows pulled together. “And Shep will have to be in your house to fix the leak and the damage it caused.”

I nodded. It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was more than I’d ever given her before.

Sutton leaned against the bakery case. “Do you know how Shep started helping me with the reno on this place?”

I shook my head.

“He was walking by and saw me trying to lug a section of banquette on my own. He didn’t even pause. Just came right up and said, ‘I’ve got the other end.’” Sutton smiled. “When we got the first one in, he asked where the rest of them were. I was in so far over my head that I didn’t even argue. When we were done, he asked me to walk him through my plans. So, I did.”

Sutton chuckled, shaking her head at the memory. “He didn’t tell me I was out of my mind to try to handle it on my own. He just said, ‘Might help to have two sets of hands for some of this. I can give you my Saturdays this month and have my guys help place the beams when they’re delivered.’”

She turned to me then, and I saw her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Just like that. Never asked for anything in return. Helped everyweekend for a month. A few nights, too. Sent over a paint sprayer so I could do the walls ten times faster. He’s a good man, Thea.”

“I know,” I whispered, my throat in a vise grip. “But I thought another man was good once. He turned out to be anything but. Now, I can’t get myself to trust, no matter how much I want to.”

Sutton’s eyes flashed, and her hand snaked out to take mine. She held it so tightly I lost all circulation. “I know how that is, Thea. I know what it’s like to think life is one thing and for all of that to change in a split second.”

My heart hammered against my ribs because there was a fire in Sutton’s gaze—flames of anger and hurt.

“But we can’t let one bad experience sour the rest of our lives. We can’t let the bad win. Make us stop living. If we lock ourselves down, we don’t just keep out the bad. We keep out the good, too.”

My eyes burned, the pain of her words striking deep. Because I knew she was right. I’d locked my fortress up tight. It meant I was safe, but it also meant I was alone.

I paced my front yard.Back and forth, and back again. It was a miracle I hadn’t dug a trench in the graveled dirt with my boots.

I’d done everything I could think to do over the past hour and a half. After stopping to buy a new set of bike tires that put a hole in my reserves, I’d come home, settled the kittens, and played with Moose. Then I’d refilled my hummingbird feeders, but the deft escape artists hadn’t enchanted me like they usually did. So, I’d headed to the greenhouse to water my plants and pull weeds. After that, I’d moved to weed pulling and watering in the flower beds around the house. My gardens were in pristine condition, but I still had more nervous energy than I knew what to do with.

The sound of an engine had my head snapping up. The road leading to my house had plenty of tree cover, but that also meant I couldn’t see who was coming until they were close. But the gravel meant I heard them.

Finally, a silver truck came into view as it rounded the final turn. The way the sun hit the metallic paint made it seem more perfect. Somehow, the vehicle was impeccably clean, despite the fact that I knew Shep drove dirt roads on the regular. Shiny and perfect, just like the man himself.

I glanced down at myself. I was wearing Carhartt overalls with dirt on the knees and smudges across the stomach. The tank top I had on beneath had seen better days, too. I tried to tell myself that my messy state was for the best, but a part of me wished I’d opted for the one pair of nice jeans I had and at least a clean shirt.

A door shut, making my head snap up to see Shep striding toward me. He wore dark jeans that hugged his hips and revealed muscular thighs as he walked. His white tee strained across a defined chest that was all lean muscle. The ballcap he wore readColson Constructionand hid his amber eyes from view, but I felt them on me.

I swallowed hard as he came to a stop a few feet from me. “Hi,” I squeaked.

“Hey, Thorn,” he said, his voice rough.

I let out a breath, trying to calm my racing heart. “Thanks for, um, coming back.”

“It’s no problem. Water still off?”

I nodded.

He frowned. “Have you been staying somewhere else?”

I shook my head. Apparently, I’d lost the ability to form words. Even though Shep was feet away, his scent teased my nose. He smelled like sawdust, cedar, and a hint of sweat. The combination was somehow the best thing I’d ever smelled.

But Shep wasn’t nearly as happy. His mouth twisted into a scowl. “You’ve been staying in a house with no water?”

I tried swallowing again, hoping it would clear my throat. “I’ve still got water in the greenhouse. I’ve been bringing it over to the house.”

A muscle ticked along Shep’s jaw. “We’re gonna get this fixed so you can have water in your goddamned house again.”

The ferocity behind his words had me taking a step back. It wasinstinct, and I couldn’t have stopped it if I tried. But my action made Shep freeze. Even though I couldn’t see his eyes, I saw pain streaking across his face. He, too, took a step back.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Not mad at you. Mad at the fact that you’ve got no water in your house. No one should live that way.”

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