Page 116 of Fierce-Baker

Her mind was racing with everything she needed to do.

Every scenario that could happen.

But two things were for certain. She needed to tell Baker, and she needed an attorney.

34

GET THINGS IN ORDER

“Are you going to tell me what happened today?” Baker asked hours later.

He’d gotten here after Micah was in bed. Since he was spending the weekend with them, he didn’t rush out of work so quickly, especially with so much going on in the distillery.

But the minute he walked in the door, he knew right away, something was wrong.

Tasha wasn’t only quiet, she was distant. Distracted.

Bordering on withdrawn.

For a man who’d been blindsided once in his life, he told himself it wasn’t going to happen again.

He trusted her to be honest with him and was giving her a chance to do it now that he’d finished the dinner she’d warmed when he walked in the door.

“I’m turning it over in my head,” she said, her voice thin. “I am going to tell you. I promise. I just… Let me check on Micah first.”

He nodded, even though every instinct told him to follow her. Instead, he stood, gathered his plate, rinsed it, then slid it intothe dishwasher. He wiped down the counters, straightened what didn’t need straightening, keeping his hands busy because his mind wouldn’t quiet.

She was gone longer than usual.

“Is he okay?” he asked when she finally returned. Leaning against the counter, his hands braced on the edge, ankles crossed in his sneakers like he was trying too hard to look casual.

Trying too hard to not feel as if his world was going to shift and crack.

He’d gone home after work to shower, change, and grab a few things for the weekend. Not because he had to but because leaving clothes here felt… intentional. Not sneaking. Not temporary.

“He’s fine,” she said quickly. Too quickly.

She sniffed, swiped her hand under her nose, then reached for a tissue, blotting at her eyes.

“You’re worrying me.” His body buzzed with the need to close the distance, to pull her into him and make it stop. But he didn’t. He stayed where he was and gave her the space to come to him instead of forcing it.

He was tired of forcing shit in his life.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m worrying myself. My head won’t stop. I’m scared. I’m upset. I’m just?—”

Her voice broke completely.

She dissolved into a mess, and that was it. He crossed the room in two strides and pulled her into his chest, his arms tight, solid, and immovable, letting her know it was going to be okay. He’d make sure of it.

“Hey. Hey.” His hand slid up her back, firm but soothing. “I’ve got you. Breathe with me. Slow. Tell me what’s going on.” He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes covering every inch of her face, trying to read her mind. “It can’t be that bad. Are you sick? Is Micah sick?”

“No.” She shook her head hard. “No. We’re both fine.”

She dragged in a breath, held it, then the words spilled out in a rush, like if she didn’t say them now she never would.

“Shane showed up today. At the end of the school day in the parking lot.”

“What?” He pushed her back slightly, his hands sliding to her forearms, his grip protective but careful. “You’re kidding me. He just showed up? Out of nowhere?”