“Remaining celibate wasn’t a conscious decision,” he said in a carefully modulated tone, as if they were discussing a business matter over a boardroom table. She could almost see him building his walls up, surrounding himself with the supercilious attitude he had down to an art.
That attitude was a shield.
How had she not realized it before? He acted all uptight as a way to protect himself. As someone who was well versed in internal shields, she should have made the connection sooner.
“Okay,” she said. “So if it wasn’t a conscious decision on your part, then why didn’t you find yourself a willing high-society lady and do the dirty?”
“I…” He cleared his throat. “I merely felt there were more important ways to spend my time than pursuing a bedmate.”
“A bedmate?” She snorted a laugh, hoping to break down his wall again. She hadn’t meant to goad him into rebuilding it in the first place, and she preferred relaxed Reece over this uptight version. “Oh, Hershey, you were born in the wrong century, pal.”
“Fine,” he snapped and, yes, that was more like it. “I had more important things to do than look for a fuck.”
“That’s better.” She waited a beat, but when he said nothing more, she prompted, “More important things like…?”
“Like making enough money to take care of my family.”
Not the answer she’d expected. “But your brothers all had their own careers. You didn’t have to provide for them.”
“Yes, I did. I do.” He paced away from her, did a lap around the kitchen. When he circled back, his expression was serious, and was that sorrow lurking in the depths of his eyes? “You have to understand, Greer could have let the foster care system sweep us up, separate us, but he worked his ass off to make sure we stayed together in our own home. He gave up his childhood to take care of us, and he didn’t have to.”
“So you gave up your adulthood.” Her heart cracked, just a bit. She went to him, circled her arms around his waist, and pressed her check against his spine. He was tense, all knotted, and her hug only tightened his muscles more. Wasn’t that always the way? Whenever she tried to help, she only made things worse. But she wasn’t letting go. This time, she knew exactly how to help.
“I didn’t give up anything,” Reece said, again using that restrained tone.
“What about college?”
“I went to college.”
“No, I mean…the whole college experience. Frat parties and questionable one-night stands. You didn’t do any of that?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I was ROTC and worked full time in the school’s IT department for money to send home to the twins and Jude. My free time I spent setting up DMW Systems.”
She huffed out a breath in disbelief. “You really are a workaholic.”
“Yes, I am.” He finally turned and faced her, jaw set. “I promised Greer years ago that I’d make damn sure we never had to scramble to survive again, and I’ve worked my ass off to keep that promise.”
Scrambling to survive. God, she knew how that felt. Their childhood experiences had been vastly different and yet surprisingly the same. And she got it. She got him. Understood why he’d ignored his own wants and needs all these years. It was equal parts dedication to his family and guilt.
But she wasn’t going to let him cast himself aside. Not anymore. She’d simply have to ease him into it. “I want an ice cream sundae for dessert.”
Reece just stared at her. “What?”
“Ice cream. It sounds good.” She walked over to the freezer and found the carton of vanilla she’d bought during her grocery run earlier in the day. She held it up, wiggled it side to side. “Want some?”
He blinked several times. “Uh…that’s it?”
“Well, no. Duh. We need hot fudge, peanuts, sprinkles…” She opened a cupboard and gathered the ingredients. “Oh, and Reddi-wip.”
His jaw dropped. “I just told you something nobody else knows and your only response is…ice cream?”
“What did you expect?” She had to fight to keep from grinning as she dug the scoop into the carton. He was making this too easy. “You said sex is off the table. And although I’d rather have sex on the table—literally—and I think your self-imposed celibacy is kinda martyr-ish—and not in a good way—I’ll still respect your decision. I’m all about alternative lifestyles. Live and let live.”
He looked completely baffled. “That’s…mature of you.”
“It is, isn’t it?” She grabbed the canister of Reddi-wip, shook it, and aimed at him. “But this isn’t.” She pressed her finger on the tip.
“Shelby!” He sputtered in disbelief as the cream splattered his face. “What the hell?”
“Hey, you said no sex, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still have fun.” She hit him with another spray from the can. “You need to learn about fun and spontaneity.”