Page 37 of Shelter from the Storm

Tossing the beanbag, Theo knocked over the entire structure, Gretchen jumping up and down and cheering.

Following the parade, the entire gang had made their way to the fairgrounds, where they split up to play games, ride the rides, and eat themselves into sugar and grease comas. Theo had dragged Gretchen away from Mila and Nora, intent on stealing her for himself all afternoon.

So far—in addition to the cotton candy—he and Gretchen had split a funnel cake, a corn dog, a huge cup of French fries smothered in salt and vinegar, a gyro, and a deep-fried Oreo. They’d thought that by splitting everything, they would get to sample more of the food and—hopefully—not suffer stomachaches afterward.

While it seemed like a solid hypothesis at the beginning, Theo was starting to suspect they weren’t going to like the end results of the experiment.

“What toy do you want, Theo?” Jerry asked.

Theo tilted his head toward her. “Ask Gretchen. I promised the prize to her.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. “I can have it?”

Theo laughed. “You’re going to have to take it. I can’t squeeze another stuffed animal on my bed.”

Gretchen covered her mouth, a breathy laugh escaping, then she surveyed the stuffed animal collection. Her eyes widened when they landed on a black-and-white cat. “Can I have that one?”

“’Course you can.” Jerry unclipped the floppy stuffed cat and handed it to her.

She graced Theo with one of her unguarded but too-brief smiles, and he felt the urge to kiss her. It wasn’t an urge he should have, since he was her boss for God’s sake, not to mention they’d only known each other a few weeks. Pair that with Gretchen’s skittish nature, and Theo knew kissing her would be the wrong thing to do.

However, knowing and doing were two different things, and he didn’t fool himself into believing he’d be able to hold off for much longer. Every day he spent with her was both a gift and a torment. Theo had never felt like this about another woman, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized the first inkling of attraction had hit him during the interview. And it had nothing to do with her looks—even though she was fucking gorgeous. No, it was those things he’d attributed as his reasons for hiring her. Her determination and her vulnerability.

He wasn’t sure how he knew, but Theo was one hundred percent certain she was meant to be his.

Pushing away the instinct to kiss her, he took the bag of cotton candy from her, grinning as she gave the little cat a squeeze.

“What are you going to name it?” He’d meant his question as a joke, so he was blown away when she replied instantly.

“Boots.”

The little black cat had white paws and a white nose, so he supposed it fit. But there was something about her quick response that tweaked his curiosity. Another layer, perhaps?

“You had that name at the ready,” he pointed out.

Gretchen nodded. “I had a stuffed cat that looked like this when I was younger. My dad gave it to me right before he split.”

Theo’s heart broke every time she dropped another glimpse into her past. So far, nothing she’d shared had been good. Even this memory of her dad giving her a gift was tainted by the man’s departure.

“I loved Boots,” Gretchen said, still staring at the cat. “I slept with her every night, told her all my silly secrets that seemed so deep and serious at the time.”

Theo smiled.

“When Shaw and I went into foster care, Boots was one of the few personal things I took with me, besides my clothes.”

Her expression was heavier now, the happiness replaced by sadness.

“Do you still have Boots?”

She shook her head.

“What happened to her?” Theo asked, even though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“I was a thirteen-year-old girl clinging to a stuffed cat. Obviously, the other kids saw that as a way to make fun of me. There were several girls in the residential home, and we all shared a large, dorm-like room with three sets of bunkbeds. One of the girls, Marci, was older and pissed off at the world. For some reason, she decided to make me the target of her bullying. One day, after school, I walked into our room and found Boots in a dozen different pieces. She’d torn the cat apart…shredded her, really. She didn’t even deny that she’d done it, just told me I was,” Gretchen finger-quoted the next part, “‘too fucking old for toys.’”

“She was wrong,” Theo replied hotly, half tempted to track down this Marci bitch. “You’re never too old.” He reached over and stroked the cat’s head. “I think Boots is the perfect name.”

Gretchen nodded, though her smile was much dimmer now. “I agree.”

---