Shay kept her focus on stirring the soup. She could feel his gaze boring into her. Willing her to look at him and accept his backward way of apologizing. She’d know he was a private person, she’d pushed him too hard. Shay had learned that lesson with her father more than once.
He’d never once physically struck her, but his words could hurt worse than a hand ever would. “That’s a lot of sandwiches for us.” She said instead trying to keep her voice pleasant and upbeat like she didn’t have a care in the world. He’d made at least a dozen. “I’m hungry but I don’t think I can eat all of that.”
“I made extra for the guys. They’ll complain if we eat and didn’t make any for them.”
“Oh,” That made sense. “I’ll make more soup.”
“Don’t worry about. They’ll be fine with this.”
Shay had to bite he
