Page 7 of Summer Heat
I'd need to go to the store tomorrow and buy toiletries. But for now, it wasn't a hardship to smell like him.
I quickly washed my hair with Shep’s shampoo, not wanting to leave Maya with him for too long. If you weren't used to kids, they could use a lot of energy. I was used to it now, but Shep probably wasn't.
I brushed my hair, lamenting the loss of my hair dryer, and went downstairs in a T-shirt and shorts. In the kitchen, Shep was sitting at the counter with Maya, both of them holding a large drumstick in their hands.
I couldn't help but laugh at how comical they looked. "You didn't have to buy the big ones."
Shep raised a brow. "If we're going to eat drummies, we're going to do it right. Isn't that right, Maya?"
She nodded seriously. "Yep."
I had my doubts that Maya would be able to eat a full one, but it made for a nice picture. I took a photo of the two of them. In the picture, Shep was taking a huge bite of the chicken, and Maya's face was blocked by the drumstick.
Shep inclined his head toward my phone. "Who are you sending that too?"
I shrugged. "It's just for me."
"You should print that, and we can put it on the fridge."
His fridge was devoid of any magnets or announcements, but there was one coloring sheet. I moved closer to inspect it. "Is this Maya's?"
He nodded. "She colored that when she was here."
"That's nice." I wasn't sure if Derek kept any of the pictures that Maya drew for him when she was with me. But I hoped he did. There was something about this man creating space for Maya in his life that was making my blood simmer.
Shep nudged Maya. "You know I need a new picture for my fridge. It's been a while since you've been over."
I filled a glass with water, then sat at the counter in front of my plate that held a drumstick, mashed potatoes, and even green beans.
"I can draw a picture after dinner."
Shep covered his chest with a hand, smearing barbeque sauce on his shirt. "That would be amazing. Thank you."
Maya pointed at the stain. "You got sauce on your shirt."
Shep looked down sheepishly. "I'm so messy."
"I'm messy too."
"All the good things in life are messy," Shep said.
It was a serious thing to say from someone I'd always pegged as being easygoing. Weren't his brothers always complaining that he didn't take the business seriously enough? He only cared about having a good time outside of work?
How much of that was even true? He lived here in his grandmother's house, wanting to renovate it in his spare time. And he took a single mother and her daughter in when they were desperate for a place to live. How bad could he be?
The voice in the back of my head reminded me that his family couldn't be all wrong. They knew him better than I did. I was a few years younger than Shep in school, so I didn't know much about him other than the girls crushed on him, and he never dated anyone long-term.
He seemed to prefer to flit from one person to another. I shouldn't even be thinking about him or his reputation with women. I was here for a place to live, not to hook up with him.
By the time Maya was done eating, she had sauce all over her face and hands, but she was happy.
I assumed we'd be staying in a cheap hotel, wondering how we'd get the money for a security deposit on a new place. Instead, we were living in Shep's house. It was surreal.
Shep didn't seem put out by our presence. If anything, he seemed happy.
Shep plucked Maya from her stool and placed her on the floor by the sink. He grabbed a washcloth, running water over it before ringing it out and washing her face. Then he lifted her so she could wash her hands.
He set her down and looked at his transparent white shirt. "Now I'm all wet."
