“Family time, it’ll be fun.” The skin around his eyes crinkles with a semi-smile.
“As enticing as a weekend in a crappy little cabin while you and Cody fart and drink beer sounds, I’ll have to pass. I picked up a shift at the bar.” Or I just decided I would.
“That’s not how it is and you know it.” He sorts and stacks some papers. “Only sissies get a cabin. We camp.”
I roll my eyes and he laughs in his usual grumbly way as I punch out a quick text to Loreen confirming that I’ll take the shift. “Fish guts, chewing tobacco spit, and no bathing for forty-eight hours. Sorry to miss it.”
“Suit yourself.” He kicks back and studies me. “If you’re staying home, I’ll have Lucas check in on you while we’re gone.”
My eyes go wide, but I spin and give him my back before he notices.
“. . . such thing as being too safe.”
“I’m fine, Dad. You don’t have to do that. Lucas is busy on his piece for the McKinstry place. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“He’s right down the road. I’ll just ask him to pop in and make sure you’re okay.”
“Make sure I’m okay? Dad, that’s insane. You do realize I’ve lived alone before and managed to survive, right?”
“It’ll make me feel better to know someone’s checkin’ in on you.”
“I’m not a little girl. I can take care of myself.” Anger wars with panic. My dad pushing Lucas at me again might spook him. After all, the last time this happened ended with Gage.
“It’s not a big deal. Do it for me, okay? Give your old man some peace of mind.”
“But Lucas—”
“He doesn’t mind, Shy.” I hear the loud thump of his work boots as he moves across the small portable office to my desk.
“How do you know? Just because you give him a place to stay doesn’t mean you can take advantage of him.”
His eyes narrow and he tilts his head. “Not taking advantage. I’d ask Cody to do the same thing.”
“But he’s my brother. Lucas is my . . .” I throw my hands in the air. “Nothing.” The word tastes sour in my mouth.
He leans close. “You sure ’bout that?”
“Dad!”
“Lock up when you leave.” He stomps past me and out the door, calling over his shoulder as he goes, “I’ll see you Sunday night.”
Ugh! Does the man ever friggin’ listen?
LUCAS
“. . . so I’d appreciate it if you’d stop by and check on Shy while we’re gone.” Nash stands with one heavy boot on the bottom step of the porch, leg straight, as if he’s holding the house back to keep it from attacking.
I grip the V-groove chisel and force myself to set down the mantelpiece I’d been working on when he showed up. The air is cooler in the evenings and there’s a time just before the sun dips below the tree line when everything in the forest seems to come into focus. Shadows dance and light bounces. I’d moved my chair to the porch to work, having no idea my quiet evening was about to get interrupted.
“Yes, sir.” I nod while my body aches to yell no.
I’m not ready to face her inquisitive eyes, her probing questions; I’ve barely managed to swallow all that I did, that Gage did. One thing I do remember and could never forget is the moment our lips touched before Gage threw me into the dark. I’ve relived it in my dreams, the subtle breath she took when I pressed my lips to hers. I felt the black come, thought I could hold it off. I was wrong. But I remember that kiss. As for what happened between Shyann and him, I’m still in the dark.
I can’t be trusted around Shyann.
But Nash Jennings believes in me. He’s given me a job, a place to live, and helped me to find my talent and use it to make money. He’s done more for me than the California juvenile detention center, more than the halfway houses with all their good intentions, more than I could ever accomplish on my own. He deserves what very little I have to give.
He peers up from the dog bowls that sit just left of the bottom step. “Got a dog?”
“Stray.”
He merely shrugs. “Good. Dog’ll keep away the critters.”
I nod.
He slaps a hand on his thigh, signaling the end of the conversation, but holds up one beefy, calloused hand, like he forgot to tell me something. “Fair warning, Shy isn’t keen on bein’ looked after. If you could, I don’t know, make your checkin’ in seem casual, that’d help your cause.” He nods without sparing even a single glance to the house and turns to move back to his truck. “Be back Sunday.”
“Yes, sir.” He can’t hear me, and I’m stuck on the porch trying to figure out how the hell I’m going to manage dropping in on Shyann.
My palms sweat and my pulse pounds. Anxiety floods my veins and marks me with insecurity. I’ll just drop by. Easy. Knock, make sure she’s okay, then leave.
“I can do that.” I suck in a shaky breath and sink into my chair.
There’s not much daylight left, so I pull the piece of wood to my lap, bend over it, and angle my chisel. The sharp metal edge thumps wildly against the lumber.