by Sosie Frost
Every man had a flaw.
And it was time I found Shepard’s, even if it was something little—like voluntarily listening to Nickelback or adding sugar to spaghetti sauce.
I studied him—the hard line of his jaw, the playful brightness in his blue eyes, the lean muscles stretching his shirt. I couldn’t see a flaw, but that didn’t mean one didn’t exist.
That didn’t mean he was without his own terrible secrets.
Maybe he busted people for speeding when they traveled one mile an hour over the speed limit.
Or maybe he’d become involved in some sort of corruption scandal—stealing from the police department’s candy box to buy Clue’s fancy dress.
Maybe Detective Shepard Novak was a twisted, shady cop who stole change from the cupholders of impounded cars on the police lot.
The fiend.
But the fiend was as handsome, kind, and amazing as always.
Especially compared to me.
“I hate to wake her up…” Elle twisted a finger through her hair, tugging on one of the red curls. “But I bet you’ll really want a picture with her smiling. Feeling lucky?”
“We can try…” I knelt beside the basket with a soft voice. “Sometimes we get a smile…sometimes we call an Exorcist. It’s like playing Russian Roulette with a rattle that can turn into a nuke.”
But we were lucky. Clue woke and gave me a furrowed little brow of warning confusion. Fortunately, Shepard made a silly voice, and she grinned. A quick rub of her nose-turned-tickle-button, and I dove away from the blanket in time for Elle to get a couple shots of a genuinely amused baby.
“These are going to be great.” She snapped half a dozen in quick succession. “She’s such a cutie.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Not a bad souvenir to take home from the hospital.”
Elle agreed. “Better than swiping a box of latex gloves.”
I nudged Shepard. “See? She gets me.”
But Shepard wasn’t listening.
His eyes trained on a crowd, yelling and rushing onto a street near the duck pond.
“Shit.” He took off running towards the group. “They’re shouting for the police. Stay here.”
“Uh-oh.” Elle took the opportunity to snap an action shot of Shepard sprinting across the park to assist the growing herd of people. “He is dedicated, isn’t he?”
“You have no idea.”
“One more picture…” Elle took a quick photo and squealed in delight. “Got her yawning. Too cute!”
I lifted Clue out of the basket, amazed that the dress was still in one stickyless piece. No spit up. No blown-out diapers.
“It’s almost like you’re civilized now.” I tickled her. “I can dress you up and take you out.”
And the little rumble in her belly tooted out. Fantastic.
“There’s the kiddo I know and love.” I turned to Elle. “I can’t thank you enough for this.”
Elle wasn’t listening. She held her camera tight and gestured for me to follow. “Let’s check this out. There might be some good shots over there.”
She didn’t wait, jogging across the park to reach the crowds circled around Shepard.
Yeah, taking a baby into a potential crime scene. That’d win me mother-of-the-year.
At least Clue was happy for the walk. Together, we’d climb any mountain and cross any police tape. We were Gassy McPampers and Mistress von Slutty Wutty, best friends forever.
I joined the crowd circling the road. A frazzled old man attempted to direct traffic as two men clustered over an opened sewer grate. Everyone buzzed with concern, doing their best to placate a rather distressed, very impatient momma duck with pieces of stale bread.
Shepard’s shout echoed, muffled and hidden. I stood on my tip-toes, peeking over the crowd.
“I got some! Help me up!”
The men dropped to the ground, reaching into the storm sewer. With a grunt, Shepard popped out.
Holding two ducklings.
“Oh my God.” Elle snapped a dozen photos. “He’s amazing. Where did you find him, Evie?”
Not a day went by that I didn’t ask myself if my uterus wasn’t a Pandora’s Box that delivered both Clue and Shepard into my life.
“He…found me.”
“Keep him, honey.”
Shepard handed off the ducklings while an elderly woman shoo’ed them closer to the chattering momma duck. Once they were safe, he ducked again into the storm sewer, fetching more of the helpless little ducklings from their tiny prison.
“Do you still love her?”
It was a question that pained me to ask. It hurt more to hear his answer.
“It’s not about love. I made a promise.”
“What about her promise to you?” My words hollowed. “She’s not faithful. She’s not kind. She’s ruining your life.”
“The wedding is in two months.”
“Yeah. You’re right.” I nodded, brushing away tears. “What does love matter when you have a banquet hall deposit on the line?”
“You know I can’t leave her.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
He swore. “Why don’t you? Just say it. Tell me you want me. Just ask me. Tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“That you love me.”
“Will it change anything?”
He didn’t answer. Neither did I.
Great.
Could my past possibly get any worse? Here Shepard was out saving a family of ducklings, and at some point in my very recent history, I had attempted to steal a man two months before his wedding.
This couldn’t be. No way was I that horrible of a person.
And Shepard couldn’t possibly be that good, no matter how many ducks he stuffed in his pocket.
Right?
The crowd cheered as the last duckling waddled free, racing to his momma who promptly shook her tail feathers with indignity and continued towards the pond.
“Oh, he is yummy.” Elle winked at me. “You keep hold of that one.”
“He’s definitely tough to get rid of,” I said.
Too tough. Too perfect.
I needed something that would shatter this illusion. Something that would save me from this unrelenting crush and spare me the misery and heartbreak of the truth.
Any fault would do.
Like…a dastardly plan to toss the ducklings into the sewer ahead of time, just so he could look like the hero when I happened across the scene.
Maybe that was it! Shepard was a ducking fraud.
He helped the men replace the grate and wiped his dirty hands on his jeans. The crowd clapped, but the kids eventually raced to the playgrounds. The moms waited around a little longer, nibbling on their sunglasses with flirty smirks.
He didn’t even look at them. He approached me with a warning.
“Don’t get too close,” he said. “I’m a mess.”
One of the playground moms gave a throaty growl. “That wouldn’t stop me.”
She was absolutely right. I needed something worse than dirt, grime, and stray leaves to change my opinion of Shepard.
“Do you recycle?” I asked.
Shepard shrugged. “Yeah…I try—”
I huffed. “Have you ever stolen someone’s lunch from the office fridge? Blamed someone else?”
“No…but I’m usually on a strict diet—”
“I bet you don’t return library books.”
“I always—”
I interrupted him. “You probably wear ugly sweaters at Christmas, un-ironically.”
He gave an awkward shrug. “I didn’t think my taste was that bad…”
“I know! You pour Skittles and M&Ms into the same bowl.”
“What sort of monster does that?”
I sighed. It was no use. Shepard Novak had no flaws.
But I had them all. Hopefully, Clue wouldn’t inherit them.
“Evie…” Shepard laughed. “Is something bothering you—?”
A woma
n’s scream tore through the park.
“Help!” An elderly woman pointed across the path, away from the ducklings. “He stole my purse!”
Shepard’s curse bit under his breath.
And then he was gone.
Racing across the park.
Being a hero. Again.
The crowd gasped as he leapt over a park bench and sprinted after the thief, arms pumping and feet striking the pavement as if he’d launch at any moment, rip through his shirt, and transform right into the ducky pond’s very own Superman.
The thief didn’t stand a chance.
The teenage boy panicked and tripped over a sprinkler system. He landed face first into a freshly mulched rose garden. Unfortunately, his sneaker had jammed into the sprinkler. A geyser of water spurted from the ground. The kid tangled in the mud.
Shepard landed on him.
Poised. In command.
The water dripped over his body, rippling with adrenaline and tensed with bulging muscle. His wet shirt clung to his back, his arms, his chest. Every heaving breath stuck the material closer to his perfect form. The water dripped from his hair, and he ran a hand through the length to smooth it back. His eyes narrowed over the punk, and he held him tight, waiting for one of the applauding people to call the police.
Fortunately, the cruiser was already nearby, responding first to the duckling incident. Two officers hopped from the car and greeted their detective. They hauled the teenager out of the mud and wished Shepard a good day off, if there was such a thing for him.
The crowds parted as he strode toward me—dripping wet with clothing clinging to his unbelievable body. His blue eyes narrowed over me and the baby, and he cast a hand over the trimmed length of his beard, wiping away mud and sweat.
What the hell was I supposed to say?
There were no more words for this fairytale. In fact, this was the point of the story where the narrative faded to black so the handsome knight could bang the everloving shit out of the princess on top of the slain dragon.
But I wasn’t any blushing damsel.
Hell, I was two-seductions from a Game of Thrones villain, spreading my legs to capture all of Westeros in my trap.
“All in a day’s work, Detective?” I asked.
He got cocky with me. “It pays the bills.”
“Does it get exhausting being a hero all the time?”
“You have no idea how badly the tights chafe my thighs.”
Elle jogged over to us, camera in hand, grinning like a fool. “I got photos of it all! Unbelievable. I’ll send them over to the station as soon as I get them on my computer.” She pointed at me. “And you. Dig those claws in deep, kitty. Meow.” She grinned. “I’ll be in touch.”
She winked, scampering off with her newfound bounty of pictures. The crowds thinned as the police dragged the teenager away. Shepard sighed, tugging at his ruined clothes.
Mud. Grime. Water. Grass stains. He had leaves in his hair and slime on his legs.
“I think we might have to cut our picnic short,” he said.
“Picnic?”
“Think I’d bring you all the way out here without feeding you?”
Nothing he did surprised me anymore. I sighed.
He grimaced. “But I think I need a shower before I can show you a good time.”
“And you would, wouldn’t you?”
He hesitated. “Shower? Yeah, call me old-fashioned, but a gentleman doesn’t carry around duckling shit in his pocket.”
“No,” I said. “You’d show me a good time.”
There was that smile again. That lovely, charming, infuriating smile. “Don’t I always?”
“Oh, sure. Because you’re so damn attentive and helpful and heroic.”
“Thank you?”
This was a disaster, and my heart couldn’t help beating itself into a mooshy mess with every shared glance and secret affection. I turned away. He didn’t like that.
Couldn’t he go five seconds without trying to make me happy?
“If you’re that hungry, we can eat. I won’t sit on the blanket.”
“It’s not that, Shepard.” I groaned. “You packed a blanket? And you probably had a perfect lunch planned with a perfect little snack and a perfect side.”
“My pasta salad is good…but it’s not that good.”
“Jesus, it’s probably your momma’s award winning pasta salad.”
“She only won first place one year...”
Fan-freaking-tastic.
I picked a path to the car and tucked Clue into her car seat. Shepard sighed, casting the picnic blanket over the driver’s seat. He didn’t sit, but he did turn on the air conditioning, always careful to watch for the baby.
And to keep an eye on me.
To save the native wildlife.
Defend the city from evil.
Comfort me when I was panicking.
This just wasn’t fair.
“Okay.” Shepard tapped the roof of the car. “You’re acting goofier than usual.”
“Head trauma makes a girl act goofy now?”
“Yeah. You’re either acting goofy or like a crazy bitch. Pick your poison.”
I quieted. So did he.
But I broke first.
“I remembered something, okay?”
Shepard tensed. He measured his words. “What was it?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I can stand here and air-dry all day.”
Goddamn it. There was absolutely no reason for me to admit this memory aloud. Ever. In fact, it benefited all civilized society that a person not admit to such adulterous thoughts.
But he waited, his eyebrow arched, golden hair damp and shimmering.
“I don’t remember much.” How was I supposed to phrase this? “But the man I loved? Clue’s father?”
Shepard frowned. Harsher than I anticipated. “Yeah?”
“He was…engaged. He was with another woman. Planned to marry her.” The words tasted terrible. “And I think I threw myself at him. I wanted to steal him away. And…” I pointed to Clue kicking her little legs in the car seat. “I know why he’s not around. Why he’s not looking for us.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s married.”
“Evie.”
This wasn’t one of those times where he could whisper my name and promise that everything would be okay. “He must be married now. He has his own family to worry about. I’m nothing to him, just the other woman that complicated everything.”
Shepard’s profanity rumbled from him—a coarse and ugly word. He slammed the car door and rounded the front to reach me. His expression twisted.
“That’s not how it happened,” he said.
“It’s the only explanation.”
“Listen to me, Evie.” He didn’t let me look away. “I know you. You aren’t that type of woman.”
“Bullshit. You don’t know me. I don’t know me.”
“You aren’t letting yourself remember. You are not a terrible person. And you’re no home wrecker. And she…” He glanced at Clue. “She’s not the product of an affair.”
“Then what happened?”
“What else?” Shepard’s eyes widened, sharp and stunning. “A man fell wildly, desperately in love with you. Maybe he shouldn’t have loved you. Maybe it was complicated. Maybe it was messy. But he loved you. When he saw the kind of life he might have had with you, he must have broken it off with that woman. Evie—” He didn’t let me look away. “Think about it. Do you really think you, of all people, would tolerate being someone’s other woman?”
I didn’t even like being put on hold while on the phone. “Probably not.”
“Evie, this man knew what he had with you. If he was with someone else, he ended it first. You wouldn’t have tolerated it otherwise.”
“He didn’t seem very happy.”
“If he didn’t have you then nothing in this world was going to make him happy.”
My stomach twisted.
If only that were the truth. “I remember wanting to be with him…but I couldn’t say it.”
“Why?” Shepard reached for my cheek, but the grime on his hands and the guilt on his soul wouldn’t let him touch me. “Tell me why you wouldn’t say it.”
“Because it felt wrong.” I looked down. “I remember feeling like…like this man was a good friend. We weren’t clandestinely meeting. It was something we did together for fun. We had a connection. A friendship that grew.” My breath trembled out of me. “I don’t think we meant to fall in love.”
“But you did.”
“Does that make me a horrible person?”
“That makes him a fool for not taking you sooner.”
I wished I hadn’t shivered. “Speaking from experience?”
“Speaking from regret. I know what it feels like to want someone I can’t have.”
“Shepard—”
“I know what it feels like to be on the outside. To know how good something could be, how right, how perfect.”
“We can’t do it though.”
“Why?”
“Shouldn’t do it.”
He shrugged, swiping the mud off his shirt. “Think I’m afraid to get a little messy?”
“It’s messy for other people. Innocent people.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s bad.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s right.” I pushed away from the car, from him, but my steps didn’t let me escape too far from my baby. “I only want to know who I am, Shepard. What kind of person I was.”
“I can tell you.”
“You can’t.”
“You have to trust me.”
“Why?” I shook my head. “I don’t even trust myself.”
“You’re beautiful. Kind. Compassionate.” He drew me closer. “You’re a fighter. Independent. Fierce. You’re a good mother.”
“I’m a great mother.”
He smirked. “See? What do you need me for?”
“I need to find out if everything you’re saying is true.”
“And I need you to remember it for yourself first.”
“Are you really this great of a guy? This good of a friend?”
His answer was simple. “No. But for you, I’m trying to be.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Means I’m not good. Not perfect. And I haven’t been for a long time. I’m trying to make up for it now, but I’m beyond forgiveness.”