Born in Blood (The Sentinels #1)(25)

She tilted her head to the side. “What about your childhood?”

He instinctively slowed his pace as they neared a shadowed corner of the garden conveniently hidden by a trellis covered in climbing roses.

“Loud, messy.” He shot her a grin. “Occasionally painful.”

She came to a startled halt. “Painful?”

“I had two older brothers who threw me out our bedroom window, hog-tied me and left me in the back shed until my da found me. They also dared me to kiss my fourth-grade teacher, who promptly kicked me out of school for a week.”

She arched a brow, not a hint of sympathy to be found.

“Any sisters?”

“Three.”

“Older?”

“Yep.”

“That explains it.”

He pressed his lips together to hide his smile. He was about to be insulted. Amusement would only ruin her fun.

“Explains what?” he dutifully demanded.

“Your assumption that women should adore you.”

“Of course they should. I’m adorable.”

She snorted. “What you are is spoiled.”

He couldn’t deny the accusation. Along with being a true pain in his ass, his sisters had shamelessly indulged him.

“There might have been a little spoiling,” he agreed.

She reached to pluck a rose bloom from the trellis, her fingers caressing the peach petals.

“Does your family live in Kansas City?”

“Yes.” He cleared his throat. Damn, but the sight of those delicate fingers brushing over the flower made him hard. He wanted her hands on him. Stroking, exploring, maybe doing a little squeezing. “My ma would be devastated if any of her chicks flew too far from the nest.”

She smiled. “You were fortunate.”

“It didn’t always feel like it. A big family can smother a young man trying to spread his wings.” Nothing like two parents and five older siblings prying into his business. Privacy was more precious than gold when he was an oversexed, hormone-charged teenager. “Now I’ve learned to appreciate the O’Conner clan.” He paused, struck by a sudden inspiration. “Maybe I’ll take you to Sunday dinner.”

She blinked. Then blinked again. “Me?”

“Why not you?”

“I think that’s obvious.”

“Clearly it’s not.”

“Fine.” She tilted her chin to a defensive angle. “I doubt I would be welcome.”

Duncan sucked in a sharp breath. It was frighteningly easy to picture Callie in his childhood home. The O’Conners were loud and boisterous and rough around the edges, but they all possessed the same overriding urge to be protectors. One look at this fragile beauty with her jewel eyes and they’d be tripping over each other to play mother hen.

“You’re wrong. My ma is a remarkable woman. She would never turn anyone away from her table,” he assured her. Then he gave a short laugh as he thought of his da’s reaction to Callie Brown. “Of course, it might be dangerous.”

“Why? She might stick me with a carving knife?”

“Worse, she might start sizing you up for a wedding gown.”

More blinking. “You can’t be serious?”

“My ma is old school.” He shrugged. “She believes a man is incapable of happiness unless he’s under the rule of a wife.”

Her expression was wary, as if she feared he might be playing a cruel game. “I can’t imagine she would ever be desperate enough to think of me as a potential daughter-in-law.”

He reached to sweep his hand over her spiky hair, his touch gentle despite the violent anger that surged through him. Man, he wanted to punch every ignorant jackass who’d made this remarkable female feel she was anything but extraordinary.

Or maybe he’d just shoot them.

Yeah. Shooting them sounded much more satisfying.

“Why wouldn’t she want you?” he demanded. “You’re young, beautiful, and I presume you’re capable of producing the mandatory grandchildren?”

She licked her lips, sending another jolt of heat through his body. Okay. No more thinking of kids. Or how a man went about acquiring them.

“I’m a freak who can see into the minds of the dead,” she said.

He tugged a fiery strand of her hair. “Darling, it’s not exactly a secret. I’ve seen you in action.”

“Mothers don’t invite people like me to Sunday dinner.”

“So you’re special,” he said. “All the better.”

She studied him in puzzlement for a long minute. Then abruptly she narrowed her eyes. “Ah. I know what you’re doing.”

She did?

“I’m glad one of us does,” he muttered.

“You’re trying to distract me from our upcoming meeting with Boggs.”

True. He’d certainly started out trying to tease a smile to those full, delectable lips, but somehow he’d lost track of his goal.

And worse, he knew he wasn’t going to easily dismiss the image of Callie surrounded by his family at his mother’s kitchen table.

A dangerous fantasy.

Far better to concentrate on the simple lust that hummed through his body like a live current.

That was the kind of danger he could handle.