Page 9 of Fixing Their Heart
“How long will that last?”
“A while. They drink more beer than wine, and we make the beer from dried hops. Eventually, we’ll have to grow our own, but I’ll need more help to do dat.”
“I can help,” I offer.
Shep smiles kindly. “It’s tough work, growing hops. Lots of labor. We have enough dried to last a few more years.”
I frown at the implication that I can’t do hard work.
Shep’s face sobers. “No offense meant, dear Cora. You worked as hard as any man today. Not to mention, your company is much sweeter.”
My ruffled feathers smooth. I suspect Shep has the largest amount of work here at Eagle Peak. It’s not easy feeding seven men. And now one woman.
“Tell me more about wrestling,” I say. I learned Shep was a semi-professional wrestler, not the unitard and headgear kind, but the makeup and acting kind. All day, he’s been telling me amusing stories about his past.
His chair groans beneath his substantial frame as he rocks back and rests one booted foot on his knee. We talk as we sip our ice wine, and when our glasses are empty, Shep goes to the kitchen to refill them. The alcohol makes my lips numb and my stomach warm. But I don’t think I’m buzzed or drunk or anything. I’m going too slow for that, and the glasses are small.
I finish my second glass and smack my lips, and then I’m wracked by a huge yawn. “Time for bed, I think.” Working hard has made me tired. I feel like I could sleep for twelve hours straight.
I lead Shep to my cabin, and we each light one of the kerosene lamps inside. The rooms are small, so one lamp in the kitchen and one in the living room is all we need. It’s enough that we don’t run into each other or the furniture, and it even brings out the pattern on the out-of-date wallpaper. The cabin is cramped, and the furniture is shabby, but I like it. Jud gave it to me. It’s mine. It’s home.
“Let’s see,” Shep says, hands on hips as he looks around. “Where are the linens?”
I shrug. I’m just getting to know this space.
He finds a closet in the short hallway that connects the bedroom to the bathroom. “Ah-ha. Here we are.” He unfurls a quilt with a snap. “I’ll take the couch.” He takes the quilt to the sagging sofa and begins untying his boots.
He’s giving me an out. Jud told me I have to go to bed with one of these men every night, as in, sleep beside them. But Shep is letting me know he doesn’t expect to join me in the bedroom. He’s not taking it for granted that I’m supposed to be his girlfriend tonight.
His not being presumptuous makes me like him even more.
I’m not ready to jump his bones—I’m not going to be jumping anyone’s bones until I’m good and ready—but I am cautiously interested in being near him. I wonder what it feels like to be held in strong arms that can put an opponent in a chokehold and to be touched by large hands that can gently milk a cow and scratch behind the ears of a grumpy barn cat as easily as they can toss a full-grown man across a ring.
I decide to build on the progress started by Grim, Doc, and Jud. I’m going to be brave with Shep. Since I don’t think he’ll make any kind of first move, I do it for him. I kneel at his feet and push his hands aside, taking over for him undoing his laces.
He looks down at me in surprise. Then his eyes go soft on me. His breathing is loud and labored, as if tending to him in this basic, almost platonic way, is turning him on. It frightens me, knowing that he might be having sexual thoughts about me. It also intrigues me in a way I’m only just coming to understand.
I haven’t had much chance to be a woman. I was eighteen when the Virus hit. I had just graduated high school and was about to go to college. I was hoping to go to a frat party or two and kiss some boys. Those desires seem juvenile now that I live with seven grown men with grown-men thoughts and grown-men needs.
Even though I haven’t been a woman for long, I’m starting to get in touch with that side of myself. It’s not so much intentional as it just sort of happens when I’m with the guys, likealonewith one of them. It’s like one of them touches me or looks at me in a certain way, and a switch gets flipped where I become interested in more touching, the kind that ends in a burst of pleasure and closeness.
I finish untying Shep’s boots and wiggle them off one at a time. For the first time, I notice how immense his feet are. “Wow, you have big feet,” I blurt out.
“You know what they say about men with big feet?” His voice is husky but also playful in that way he has about him.
“Ha-ha,” I say. I may be young, but I’m old enough to have heard that one: big feet, big man parts.
“They wear big shoes,” he deadpans, and I laugh so hard I snort. If he’s trying to relieve some of my tension, it’s totally working.
“Come on,” I say, holding out my hand to him. “No one’s sleeping on the couch tonight.”
Chapter 5
Shep
We blow out the kerosenelamp in the kitchen and put the other on low. It lights our path to the small room holding nothing but a bed, nightstand, and dresser. Cora is leading me by the hand, and I’m more nervous than a teenager on a first date.
Is that what this is? A date?