Once in a Lifetime(33)

“Because what if she loved it as much as I did?” Aubrey shook her head. “My mom felt really bad, but she couldn’t afford to buy me one.” She hated that memory and wished she’d never said anything. “It’s silly, letting that get to me. It wasn’t mine. It was a new one, a brand-new one, all pretty wood and fancy.”

And unused…

Shaking it off, she said, “Your turn.”

He just looked at her for a long beat. “You didn’t say why you’ve been crying.”

“Does it really matter?”

“You wouldn’t think so,” he said softly, coming close. He stroked a strand of hair from her temple, tucking it behind her ear. “And I’m not all that thrilled to tell you, but it does. Matter.”

She closed her eyes. Not to savor his touch. Because it wasn’t his touch she was reacting to, she assured herself. Anyone’s touch would have reached her tonight.

Okay, that was a big fat lie.

“When I was growing up,” she said softly, eyes still closed, “there was no playing in the yard with my dad, and he certainly never would have done so in his suit. He might’ve gotten dirty. And a puppy…well, I was more likely to take a spaceship to the moon than be allowed to have a pet.”



“Ah,” he said quietly. “Daddy issues.”

Her eyes flew open, but there was no mockery in his face. Instead, he let out a long, slow breath. “I nearly hit two kids who ran out in the street in front of my truck last week,” he said.

“Oh, my God.”

“Yeah. Twin five-year-old girls. They were walking to school.”

“Alone?” she asked.

“Well, not after I found them.”

She felt her heart melt over this big tough guy facing an emotion as sweet as protectiveness for two little girls he didn’t even know.

“They’re foster kids,” he said. “And their foster mother is supposedly one of the better ones, but…” He shoved his hand through his hair and shook his head. “I saw them again later when I worked Craft Corner—”

“Wait,” she said, stopping him. “You’re working Craft Corner?”

He scowled. “Yeah. So?”

She smiled. “You’re working Craft Corner,” she said again, and laughed. “I’d like to see that. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Grumpy-Ass working with little kids.”

“Now, see, how is it that everyone but me knew it was little kids? Jack conned me into it,” he admitted.

She laughed again.

“Not funny.”

“You being conned into anything is pretty funny.”

“You think I’m impenetrable?”

“I think you’re a fortress.”

He blew out a breath, but didn’t deny it. “Pink told me their mom is dead and their dad’s in jail for the big one.”

She was beginning to see why this had gotten to him. “Murder?” she asked.

“That’s what I assumed. I had Luke run them.”

“And?”

“And mom is dead, but their dad’s working at an auto shop in Seattle.”

She gaped at him. “That f*cker.”

“My thought exactly.”

He looked extremely pissed off again. Unusual for him, but she understood now and ached for the girls and him. “I didn’t have the greatest childhood,” she said quietly. “But I know it could’ve been so much worse.” She met his gaze, knowing that his childhood had been worse, maybe as bad as the girls’. After all, his dad was rumored to be in jail, too, and his mom had just dropped him off one day at his cousin Jack’s and had never come back for him. She couldn’t even imagine the ways that haunted him. “I know you had it rough,” she said softly.

He met her gaze and then stepped into her a little bit more, so they were sharing air. “I don’t feel like talking anymore.”

His voice and proximity gave her a whole-body shiver. “Sure. What do you feel like doing?” she asked.

He just looked at her, eyes blazing.

“No,” she said, lifting a hand, not sure if she was warding him off or really just trying to keep herself in check. “I meant what I said earlier.”

He caught her hand in his. “When you said you didn’t need a man, but if you did it wouldn’t be me?” he asked. “When you said you wanted sweet? And…beta?” This last was said with more than a hint of mockery.

“That’s right,” she said, standing by her words, however stupid they sounded now. “Beta.”

They were toe-to-toe now, and their bodies brushed. His was tough as nails. Hard. Warm.

Strong.

Male.

He smelled like freshly cut wood and like whatever soap he’d used. Like overheated man.

And everything within her tightened in desperate need, just to be…taken. To let go. To forget, just for an hour…

“You’d better say it again,” he said very quietly.

“What?”

“That you don’t want me.” He gave a slow shake of his head. “Because you’re looking at me like I’m dinner and you haven’t eaten all day.”

She let out a shaky breath, and her breasts brushed his chest.