by T. S. Joyce
Burke glared at the box in question. “That’s really the last box you want?”
“Yep.”
“The one that says college trophies and stuff?”
“Yep.”
“Why are you bringing your trophies to a tiny house? To remind yourself how awesome you are?”
It stung. His judgement stung. “No,” she said softly. “It’s to go through all the pictures of when I first met Braden and throw them away.”
She tried to smile at him, but her stupid lip trembled. His eyes filled with something she didn’t recognize, but it made her insides feel funny. So, she ducked her gaze, pulled out the box, and made her way to the opened back of the Bronco.
When all five boxes were loaded into the back, she helped Burke shut the back and made her way toward her car parked in front of the house.
“Hey, Kim?” Burke asked.
“It’s Kimberly,” she said, turning around.
He was standing by the passenger side of his rig, his head canted to the side and his eyes blazing an inhuman gold. “You did good today.”
She didn’t know why that compliment warmed her. He was virtually a stranger, and his opinion shouldn’t matter, but she hadn’t heard words of encouragement like that in a long time. That four-word combination mattered. It filled her up with this fluttering sensation, and for the first time in a long time, a little sense of pride in herself. “Thank you.”
“I got something for you,” he told her and opened the door to his Bronco. He tossed something blue through the air, and she lurched forward to catch it.
It was a bag of Chex Mix.
She’d been joking when she’d texted him about wanting some, but he’d gone to the store for her. She didn’t know why, but this bag of snacks meant a lot to her mangled little heart.
“It’s dinner since you’re poor now and can’t afford groceries,” he called out. She laughed.
Laughed.
Her, Kimberly Wilson, at the tail end of a divorce, moving into a home the size of her old closet, had laughed. How long had it been since she’d even smiled? Since her divorce? Since a year before that? Two years?
She lifted the snack bag into the air. “Buying me dinner already?” she teased. “Careful you don’t fall in love with me. I’m terribly damaged.”
Burke’s smile faded from his face, and he shrugged up a shoulder. “Damage doesn’t scare me.”
“What does scare you?” She didn’t know why that question tumbled from her lips. The words just fell out.
He straightened his spine and lifted his chin. “Dying before I’ve really lived.”
And then he made his way around the front of his Bronco and climbed inside, leaving her just standing there, hugging a bag of Chex Mix to her chest and wondering why her heart was pounding so hard against it.
Chapter Five
Kimberly was the worst at this job ever.
Leslie’s pottery shop was really busy today, all three tables filled with families painting ready-made pottery together.
Already, Kimberly had made a kid cry when she’d told the little girl she needed to work better on painting within the lines on her ceramic reindeer. The mother had yelled at her for being a “dream-crusher.” Leslie had to ask seven million times how to ring up pottery on the register, learning shipping was a nightmare, and she’d loaded the kiln wrong. Twice.
Leslie had to pick up her slack and fix the fires Kimberly made all day long.
She was definitely going to get fired.
“I’m sorry,” she uttered to Leslie as her sister turned the Open sign to Closed and locked the front door.
“Why are you sorry?”
“Because I messed everything up, and if you have to fire me, I get it. Everyone is firing me from life. My own husband fired me from marriage. Pretty sure Mom is going to fire me from daughtering.”
Leslie snorted. “You’re good.”
“What?”
“Kimberly, you’re good. You’re okay. It was your first day. I expected you to suck.”
“I sucked?”
“Abso-fuckin’-lutely. But you know what?”
“Huh?” she asked, sinking down onto a chair by Table 1.
“Everyone sucks on their first day at a job. You aren’t born knowing everything. It’s how you handle day two that matters.”
“So, I’m not fired?”
A giggle escaped her curly-haired sister. “Of course not. Just maybe don’t insult the kids’ painting skills tomorrow.”
Kimberly cracked a grin and nodded. “I will do my best.” She swallowed hard. “Mom used to do that.”
“Insult our painting skills?”
Kimberly nodded.
“Mom insulted us on everything. She trained us to work harder to please her just to avoid insults for a day.”
“I always hated that.”
“Do you know what I saw for the last five years?” Leslie asked, digging something out of a minifridge in the back.
“Me living my happily ever after and then ruining it?”
Leslie handed her a beer. A beer. In a can. “I saw you turning into Mom.”
Kimberly felt slapped. “What do you mean?”
Leslie popped the top of both their beers and took the seat across the table from her. “You were so hard on everyone around you. You made people walk on eggshells to make sure they didn’t disappoint you. Braden walked on eggshells, too, so you wouldn’t insult him. You learned that little ditty from Mom.”
Kimberly’s eyes stung, so she blinked hard and took a long swig of the disgusting drink Leslie had handed her. “I ruined that marriage, didn’t I?”
“No. You both did. Braden didn’t match you in the first place, and he quit trying a while ago. He didn’t support you growing, and each year, you grew unhappier, and that’s when I saw you start mimicking Mom. How can a man support you emotionally if you shut down like that? He didn’t know how to get you aimed in the right direction, and he shut down on you too, so he’s just as at fault for the end of your marriage as you are. You both stopped trying. It takes two people to build and two people to destroy, and those are your options in a marriage. You’re building or destroying. He wasn’t building with you. Doesn’t mean he’s a bad man, Kimberly. And the end of your marriage doesn’t mean you’re a bad woman. You just weren’t good together. Part of your growth from here on out is going to be forgiving yourself, learning to hold your head up high with the family again, and doing the emotional work on your own.”
“Dad tried to give me two hundred bucks yesterday. For food.”
“And?”
“I said no.”
Leslie’s smile was slow and proud. “What did Mom say when you moved your stuff out?”
“Well, Burke didn’t help her attitude.”
Leslie’s eyes went round. “Burke was there?”
“Yeah. He offered to help me move.”
Leslie nodded. “Burke is cute.”
“Burke is poor.”
“Ha!” Leslie tossed her head back when she laughed. “God, you’re such a fuckin’ snob.”
“I’ve signed up for Millionaire Match dot com.”
“Oh, Jesus. Kimberly, that’s not the personal growth I was talking about.”
“All of my matches are twenty years older than me. And boring.”
“Lion shifters aren’t boring. You can go bone an older millionaire for money, or you can get thoroughly fucked by a man who is just as much animal as human.”
When Kimberly’s cheeks lit on fire, she took another drink. “Sex sounds not-that-fun to me right now.”
Leslie kicked her feet up on the table and took a drink. Beer tasted like piss, but her younger sister kept a straight face like it tasted fine to her. “Why no sex?”
Kimberly shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t done it in a long time.”
“How long is a long time?”
“A couple of years? Maybe three?”
“Holy shit!” Leslie yanked her f
eet off the table and leaned forward. “You didn’t have sex with Braden for that long?”
Another shrug from Kimberly, and now her cheeks were even hotter. “He wasn’t super interested, so I just learned to take care of myself.”
There was a knock on the front door, and outside the window, Kimberly could see Kieran. Leslie waved and jogged over to open it for him. In came Kieran and Burke. Burke. The one they’d just been talking about, and why were her cheeks so hot?
“We came to see how your first day on the job was,” Kieran said in a friendly tone.
“Well, my boss said I sucked,” Kimberly muttered.
“Ha ha!” Burke laughed a little too loud to be called mannerly. Annoying. He made his way over to the mini-fridge and grabbed a couple more beers for him and Kieran, then came to sit right beside her as Kieran sat by Leslie. Right beside her. He even leaned his chair back on two legs and held onto the back of Kimberly’s chair in this comfortable way that felt right and terrifying all at once.
“How was work?” Leslie asked the boys.
“Slow as hell,” Kieran muttered. “It’s always slow at the sawmill from Christmas Day to New Year’s Day, and then work picks back up again. Me and the boys played Texas Hold ’em for three hours today and then got lunch at the taco truck down the road.”
“Must be nice,” Burke muttered. “I was up at five this morning and just made my last delivery an hour ago.”
“Are you a UPS driver or something?” Kimberly asked curiously. She really didn’t know that much about him.
“Nah, I deliver cords of firewood in the cold months and then work with Kieran up at the sawmill in the Spring and Summer.”
“You’re a lumberjack?” Kimberly asked. She’d meant to say it in a snobby way, but the words just came out sounding interested. Huh. The beer must’ve been getting to her.
“Yep, just a lowly lumberjack.”
Kieran rolled his eyes. “Asshole acts like it’s no big deal, but he owns his own business. He even LLCed it last year. Everyone around here knows to go to him for firewood or tree removal.”
“You own a company?” she asked, impressed.
“Don’t get your panties all wet just yet, snob,” he told her. “I make enough to cover bills. No more, no less.”
“Same,” she said primly. “I’m one of you now.”
“One of you?” Kieran asked.
“The impoverished.”
Leslie, Kieran, and Burke all cracked up laughing.
“I’m serious,” Kimberly assured them. “Today I had to look at insurance plans. I can’t even afford dental on my salary.”
“Oh no,” Burke said dramatically. “Who will whiten your teeth?”
“Screw you. My teeth are white.”
“For how long? How long until your teeth yellow with your poorness?”
Okay, she knew he was teasing her, but he was obnoxious. “I’m not a snob. I’m drinking beer tonight.”
“Eat from the food truck down the street, and then I’ll be impressed.”
“What do they serve at this…this…food truck?”
“Bison hash,” Burke answered.
“I don’t have any money to buy fancy bison hash,” she pointed out. It was kind of nice being open and admitting what she could and couldn’t afford with these three. “I have thirteen dollars and sixteen cents in my purse, and that has to last me until payday.”
“Tell you what,” Burke said, a smile curving the corners of his lips. “I’ll buy you an order of bison hash, and if you don’t pull a snobby face, you don’t have to pay me back.”
“I don’t want your charity dinner.”
“I respect that, but I haven’t had dinner. I’m walking down there anyway, and you could come with me and entertain me with your snobbiness. It’s not charity. I like when you make me laugh with that face you make.”
“What face?”
“Like you just sucked on a lemon. Like that one!” he exclaimed as she took another sip of her nasty beer.
“You’re very annoying. Stop looking at me.”
“I want a double order of the hash,” Kieran said, pulling a twenty from his wallet. “And you know my lady will want the same.”
Leslie grinned. “He knows me well.”
“We’ll be back in twenty minutes,” Burke assured them. He plucked her peacoat off the coat rack and held it out for her. “Milady.”
God, he was annoying. But he would make fun of her more if she uttered the complaint that was crawling its way up her throat. It’s cold out there. But she could be tough for twenty minutes to shut him up.
She slipped her arms into the jacket he was holding and followed him outside. He walked straight for his Bronco, and although she was relieved that they were driving, she wanted to jab at him back. “If it’s right up the street, why are we driving?” she asked.
“We aren’t.”
Dammit.
“I got you a present,” he told her.
“A present?” she asked, dumbfounded.
He opened the passenger side of his Bronco and stood to the side. On the seat was a shoe box and a bag from the general store down the street. “What’s this?”
“Just open it. It’s not charity. This is me broadening your horizons, snob.”
Carefully, she opened the shoe box lid and pushed the white tissue paper aside to expose a pair of steel gray UGGs that were calf height with bows on the backs of them.
“I did an internet search of these today,” she whispered, pulling them out in reverence.
“And?” he asked.
“And they are expensive! This is my whole paycheck for a week. I can’t take these.”
“I looked at your shoe size yesterday when you were unloading your boxes into the tiny house. Never bought these for a chick before so I hope they fit.”
“Burke, didn’t you hear me? I can’t take these!”
“Just try them on, snob. This is part of your rehab into the real world.”
“The real world would make me pay for my own, and they would be off-brand!”
“Just…” He sighed a frustrated sound. “I don’t buy shit for people, Kimberly. Just go easy on me this once, okay?”
She searched his eyes, but they were bright gold. “Okay,” she whispered. She popped her wedges off and pulled the UGG on—and, oh God—it…was…heavenly. The wool lining was so warm and the fit so comfortable. “What is happening to my feet right now?” she murmured.
“Right?” he asked, eyes on her face.
“Burke! Oh, my God!” She yanked the other one on and crunched a tight circle in the snow. “They’re so warm!”
“Yes!”
“And so comfortable!”
“Yes!”
“And so ugly!”
“Well, to you, but paired with that stuff”— he pointed to the other bag— “I think you’ll look hot as hell.”
Oh, she knew what was in there before she even opened it up. Leggings and a hoodie. And, yep, there was a pair of black leggings in the right size and a navy hoodie that said Missoula, Montana on it.
“Put them on.”
Kimberly looked around at the empty street on the other side of the parking lot. “What if someone sees me?”
Burke told her, “Leslie and Kieran are making out inside her shop, and no one is driving by. I’ll turn away. Just try them on.”
Feeling wild and rebellious, she said, “Okay! No peeking, though. It’s been a very long time since someone looked at me, and I have emotional scars.” That part was mostly true.
“Yeah, right,” Burke muttered, giving her his back. “You know exactly how pretty you are. Stop acting like your self-esteem is anything but up in the damn Milky Way.”
“Um, no,” she muttered, yanking her jeans and UGGs off in a rush. “Divorce is disastrous for self-esteem. You know how it is.” She was struggling into the leggings, which completely counted as a cardio workout.
“I wasn’t divorced. Just had a bad breakup.”
“Like how bad?” she asked, pulling the spandex over her butt.
“Like I Turned a girl I thought was the one into a lion shifter, and she left me three months later.”
“What?” she yelped, nearly falling over into the snow.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice sounding too growly to be human. “She just wanted the lion. Not me. Something like that is actually worse than divorce for a shifter. Breaking that kind of bond is pretty brutal.”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
Burke turned and dragged his golden gaze up and down her legging-clad, UGG boot-wearing body. “It was a long time ago.”
“How long?”
“Seven years. I’m finally feeling steady again.”
She didn’t know why that made her heart so sad. Seven years. Seven years, it took for him to feel steady again, and she realized she really didn’t know how it was for shifters, other than the basics she’d researched when Leslie had paired up with Kieran. “I thought you were only allowed to Turn one mate in a lifetime,” she whispered.
“Yeah.” His smile was so sad. “That’s what I meant about being scared of dying before I’ve really lived. I spent my Turn card, and she moved on and found a husband. She Turned him, and now they have two cubs, while I’m stuck here. Alone.”
Her heart felt shredded. That was his future? To be alone for always? A woman had done that to him? Lion shifters mated for life, and she’d left him?
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
Another sad smile. “Don’t be.” He pushed her jacket off her shoulders and pulled the hoodie over her sweater. “Everything is as it is supposed to be.”
And that right there told her of the type of man he was. He didn’t hold a grudge or let a tragedy rule his life. He just bore the weight on his shoulders and marched on. Here they stood in the snow, two people who had lost the person they were supposed to be with forever. Braden would move on and be happy. Burke’s mate had already moved on and was happy, but what about them? What about each of them?
“Don’t be weirded out,” he said, “but I’m going to take a picture of you. This is a historic day. Kimberly Wilson is wearing UGGs and a hoodie and leggings.”