Ohhhh. How amazingly sweet and yet utterly heartbreaking.
Brook Lynn toyed with the edge of the dessert box. “How did you, West and Beck meet her?” The few times she’d asked about his past, Jase had given her the bare minimum or shut her down completely. But they were closer now. Had she breached at least one of his many walls?
He looked past her, saying, “We were in foster care. Me, West and Beck. We ended up in the same house, and she lived down the street.”
“How long were you in foster care?” Brook Lynn had known about his time in the system, and more and more she hated the thought of him being shuffled from one home to another, losing everything he’d managed to build: friendships, family, even clothes and toys.
Tone deadened, he said, “From the age of six to the day of my sixteenth birthday, when I returned to the house I’d been staying at and found my stuff packed in a garbage bag, waiting on the porch. I was supposed to go to a new home but got myself emancipated and found a place with West and Beck.”
Oh...hell. She reached out, wrapped her fingers around his.
“Don’t feel sorry for me,” he snapped, jerking back to sever contact.
Proceed with caution. “There’s a difference between pity and sympathy,” she said softly.
“You’re right.” The fire in his eyes gradually cooled. He drew in a deep breath, slowly released it then reached out and took her hand. “A lot of kids had it worse. At least I had food, shelter.”
“But what of love?” Brook Lynn had enjoyed her parents’ love, not to mention Jessie Kay’s love, and both had been necessary for her survival.
“You have a soft, tender heart,” Jase grumbled.
“Yes, but I also have a mean streak,” she reminded him.
His beautiful mouth curved into a smile, making her heart skip a beat. “Don’t worry, angel. I’ll never forget. But I should probably ask around town, find out what else you’ve done while worked into a temper.”
“Don’t you dare!” They’d tell him about the time she and Jessie Kay fell into a vat of strawberry jam—and kept fighting. The time they’d both stood at the top of the courthouse and shouted humiliating facts about each other.
Jessie Kay sometimes laughs so hard, she farts.
Brook Lynn thought a vibrator was Harry Potter’s magic wand.
“Oh, honey. You shouldn’t ever dare me like that. Now I have to know what else you’ve done.”
She leaned toward him, saying, “Why aren’t you defending my sweetness? It wasn’t too long ago that you praised me for it.” In bed. Did he remember?
His gaze dipped to her lips and heated. Oh, yes. He remembered. “You are sweet, that’s for sure.”
Shivers drifted through her, and she had to force herself to lean as far away from him as she could get without actually running out of the store. Eye on the prize.
“The mean streak really only shows up when I’m dealing with Jessie Kay,” she said, getting them back on track, “so I guess you’re safe enough.”
He rubbed two fingers over his jaw. “You care about her more than you care about anyone else.”
“Yes. I don’t want her to end up like our uncle Kurt.”
“Tell me about him.”
If I want him to open up to me, it’s only fair I open up to him. “He was a con man to the max, but I already told you that. He was charming and yet awful. He would teach us terrible things but make us laugh all the while. At the end of the day, nothing mattered more than money to him. He lived and breathed it, every word and action meant to get more of it. And now, looking back, I can see Jessie Kay and I were extremely blessed that he left. One day he would have run out of cash, and I don’t think he would have hesitated to use us in a worse way to get it.”
“Do you hate him?”