Need You for Keeps (Heroes of St. Helena, #1)(11)

“I can always go back and trade in that cavity-inducing syrup concoction you seem to be so fond for drip crap if it would make you feel better,” he said, going for light.

She didn’t even crack a smile, instead looking more confused and, okay, back to being suspicious again.

“It’s just a cup of coffee, Shay,” he said because the way she was acting, one would think he’d just offered her an active grenade.

“I know.” But her gaze went from the cup to him, carefully assessing—and not in an appreciative way. Not that he blamed her. Jonah was sweaty, covered in sawdust, and in desperate need of a shower. “More home improvements?”

He didn’t want her to know that it wasn’t his home he was improving. If she heard he was building a dog fence for Domino, she might ask why. A question he wasn’t sure how to answer anymore, especially after Adam had ripped him a new one over it the other night.

It also wasn’t something he wanted to examine too closely, so he said, “Something like that.”

His answer triggered her BS meter, he could tell, but she forced a small smile to her lips. “Thank you. I needed this.”

“Rough day?”

“Tripod went to his family this morning, which is awesome,” she said in a tone that didn’t sound like it had been all that awesome for her.

She took a sip of her latte and went back to staring out at the park. She didn’t elaborate, didn’t ask him to leave, didn’t offer him a doughnut, but after a few minutes quietly admitted, “It sucked.”

A strange tenderness washed through Jonah at her honesty. Usually she worked hard at keeping things surface level with him, so the admission was surprising and endearing.

Two of the worst reactions he could have to a woman he wasn’t interested in.

“It’s obvious you want them as your pets, so why don’t you keep them?”

“They’re not mine to keep,” she said as though completely confused by his question. “I am lucky enough to be a part of their journey, and to help them find their families.”

All the struggle and hard work to make families complete yet she goes home alone. Not unlike his own situation. “And that’s enough for you?”

Her face softened with resignation and pride. “For now it is.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“Since I was twelve.” She picked a doughnut out of her bag and popped it into her mouth. A clear sign that the conversation was over.

Jonah didn’t want it to be over, he wanted to know more, so he sat patiently waiting for her to continue. When she plucked out another doughnut, he leaned back, put his arms across the top of the park bench, and stretched out. The I’ve got all day was implied.

With a sigh, she continued. “The summer after my mom passed I found a cat that had been hit by a car. He was still alive and a bit scuffed. I wasn’t allowed to have a cat in the house, so I hid him in the garage.”

“Your dad wouldn’t let you have a cat?” Jonah didn’t know the first thing about raising kids, but for a girl who had just lost her mom, giving her something to care for and connect with seemed like a no-brainer.

“Not my dad, my foster parents,” she said as if it was no biggie, but Jonah bet that at the time it was the biggest thing in her little world. “I was placed with a couple who wanted a baby, so they didn’t feel comfortable letting me keep a pet when they knew I’d be moved. But my teacher had just lost her cat, so I got Commissioner Gordon—”

“Commissioner Gordon?”

“What? I was twelve and a big Batman fan. Do you want to hear the rest of the story, or would you like to keep smirking at me?”

“Sorry.” He ran a hand over his mouth. “There, smirk gone. But at some point we are going to talk about how you named a cat after a police commissioner.”

She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I got him healthy and then snuck him to school in my backpack. Mrs. Halliday took one look at Commissioner Gordon and I knew.” She lifted one shoulder slightly. “That was my first adoption.”

“How many homes were you in?”

“A few,” she said, and at his silence admitted, “Okay, a lot.”

He’d bet she’d been terrified and scared, because no matter how hard she wished, her world would never be the same.

He had lost his mom at a young age too, then his dad in high school, but Jonah had always had family around, and friends and a town to lean on.

Shay had no one. He got the feeling that over the years that hadn’t changed much.

“That’s a hard pill to swallow gracefully at any age, let alone twelve,” he said.

“I believe the words you’re searching for are temperamental and difficult,” she said in a voice mimicking someone who he assumed was a foster parent or social worker.

“And I bet the word temperamental didn’t help in your file.”

She shrugged it off, but he could tell the words still hurt.

“It was true then and sometimes still is now,” she admitted without apology, which intrigued him.

Shay was a caretaker, that was obvious, yet she lived her life loud and made no apology for it. Jonah was starting to understand that there was so much more to her that she kept hidden.

And if there was one thing that got Jonah going, it was a good mystery.