Page 7 of Delicate Escape

I moved my way through the space. Sutton had done an amazing job bringing it back to life this past year. The walls were a pristine white, but dark, exposed beams soared overhead, and antique, shabby-chic-looking chandeliers illuminated the space. Teal banquettes lined the walls, bringing in a whimsical pop of color.

But the true stars of the show were Sutton’s baked creations. While we carried a wide array of options, she specialized in cupcakes, and each one was a work of art. She had everything from butterflies to rainbows to princesses. And she had themed confections for every holiday. Even freaking Arbor Day.

I got to work brewing our standard decaf and regular in the coffee urns as I hummed along to the country song spilling out of the speakers. I’d never really been a fan of country until I started working here and ended up inundated with it, thanks to Sutton. It was probably more that I hadn’t been exposed until now.

Country wasn’t exactly a staple in LA, and growing up in the valley, it hadn’t been much of a thing there either. Over time, I’d slowly found myself enjoying the storytelling tunes and unique guitar strains. I hummed along as I glanced at the clock. Still fifteen minutes until we had to open.

I moved into the kitchen, the music louder there, and slipped an apron over my head, then quickly washed my hands before grabbing the food dye to turn the white icing blue. A new song came on.

I grinned as I grabbed the large mixing bowl and stirred in the blue coloring, all the while singing along off-key to the lyrics about finally kissing someone new and being unbothered by whatever your ex was up to. God, I longed for that kind of freedom. To remember what it felt like to have my lips tingle from the contact, and a flutter take root in my belly with the excitement of what could be.

“Sounds like tortured cats reaching for those high notes,” a deep voice said, amusement lacing his tone.

The shock of the voice, the deep rasp of it, the presence of it all, had me whirling around. The only problem with that was that the bowl of bright blue icing was still in my hands. When I stopped moving, the frosting did not.

It flew out of the bowl and landed squarely on the chest of the man standing opposite me—chest, because even though I was on the tall side, he was taller, towering over me at what had to be six three or four. A white T-shirt was pulled taut over that broad, leanly muscled chest—one now covered in blue icing.

My mouth went slack as my eyes went up, up, up to collide with now familiar amber orbs that had me sucking in a sharp breath. Eyes that were full of sparkling amusement, but somehow also seemed sharper than others I encountered.

Eyes that made my stomach flip and my pulse thrum faster. Ones that hadDANGERin huge capital letters flashing in my mind. So, there was only one thing I could say.

“Oh, shit.”

2

SHEP

God,she was beautiful. Standing there in the middle of the kitchen, singing the kind of off-key that made your ears bleed. But she was so free while doing it. I should’ve stayed in the doorway longer, really taken in all that was her.

Because I didn’t think I’d ever gotten to see Thea this carefree or uninhibited before. She was the type of guarded that meant a dozen locks, triple-enforced walls, and a barbed wire fence. But I’d seen hints of the real her over the months I’d been coming into the bakery.

Glimpses that told me the truth about the woman behind the walls. Ones that made me want to lean in closer.

But taking her in now, I couldn’t help but chuckle. Her mouth opened and closed as she took in the bright blue frosting dripping down the front of my shirt. When she finally managed to speak, it was only to curse.

I laughed harder, and that only made her glare.

“It’s not funny,” she snapped.

“Come on, Thorn. It’s a little funny.”

Thea’s spine straightened as if her spinal column had filled with steel. “Thorn?”

I arched a brow and reached for a towel on the counter to mop up the mess. The tee was toast. But it was a small price to pay for a chance to see Thea riled. It made her deep brown eyes burn with a heat I couldn’t help but imagine lighting in other scenarios.

“Thorn. Fits your prickly personality.”

She gaped at me, her mouth opening and closing yet again. “You broke into the bakery and scared the hell out of me, andI’mprickly?”

I just grinned at her. Riled. So much better than her usual brush-offs. “Door was open.”

That had Thea’s mouth snapping closed.

“I just figured you were open early. But no one answered when I called out, and I heard some horribly off-kilter singing coming from the kitchen. I had to investigate.”

Thea’s cheeks flamed as she set the bowl of icing on the counter. “I thought I was alone.”

“I know,” I said simply. That was why it had been such a gift. A single moment of Thea being truly herself.

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