In a heartbeat, she grew serious. “Oh, Brogan, I was. So much.”
Skimming a kiss over her shoulder, he whispered, “I think I was missing you, too.”
Her smile trembled. “Tell me about your mom, about being a kid, and how you got so strong.”
Brogan gave up the battle. Pixie was his own unique form of comfort, and he wanted more.
“When I was ten or eleven, somewhere in there, I got home late.”
“How late?”
“I don’t know. It was dark, though. Mom didn’t keep tabs on me, as long as I didn’t cause trouble.”
He saw the way Pixie braced herself. “What did she say when you came in?”
“She wasn’t around. That wasn’t unusual,” he hurried to explain, “but it was unusual to find part of a bucket of fried chicken on the counter. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so I dug in.”
Trying and failing to hide her thoughts, Pixie said, “I can almost picture that.”
As a kid, it hadn’t seemed strange to him to run the streets without supervision. Yeah, it was a wonder he’d survived. “I’ve always had a big appetite, and I guess I wasn’t thinking about anyone but myself because I ate four pieces.” He could still recallthe taste of the chicken that day. Cold and greasy, but such a treat.
“I bet you were a big kid.”
“I guess so.” He thought of himself at that age. He couldn’t remember ever feeling small, just insignificant. “Mom came in, and, man, she blew a gasket because I’d only left a wing. I guess she’d just run out to get beer, and she’d planned on returning to eat the chicken herself. That’s why it wasn’t put away. I remember her asking me what the hell I thought I was doing, eating it all.”
Eyes widening at the turn in the story, Pixie pressed a lingering kiss to his chest, right over the spot where his heart beat a steady rhythm.
“Man, I got flippant and said I was hungry. I said the chicken was there and she wasn’t, and I didn’t know if she’d be back that night or the next.”
“Dear God,” Pixie whispered. “That happened? And you were only ten?”
It had happened often. His mother was as unpredictable as the weather. In lieu of an answer, Brogan shrugged. “Mom lost it.” He recalled so vividly how she’d carried on. It had been a turning point for him, a day of stark reality. “She threw the empty bucket at me, and then she threw the bones.”
“Brogan!”
“She didn’t hurt me,” he soothed. Not physically. Emotionally, he’d been devastated by the things she’d said. As much to himself, as to Pixie, he explained, “She was only making her point.”
“No, she wasn’t. She was being deliberately cruel and violent, so don’t you dare make excuses for her.”
“I guess your reaction means you know I’d never, not under any circumstances, do something like that to a child?”
“Of course you wouldn’t! You’re not like that.”
“Shh. You’ll wake the kids.” No, he wasn’t at all like eitherof his parents—and her knowing it mattered a lot. Some of her words had stuck with him, forever embedded in his brain. “Mom said I was lucky to have a place to come back to, that she and my father hadn’t wanted me, but at least she’d kept me.”
At least I kept you. That’s more than your goddamned father did.
He would never forget that statement. It had changed everything. He’d gone to bed that night vowing that he’d take control of his life, that he’d make something of himself and prove to both his mother and his father that he was worthwhile.
Being pragmatic at an early age had prepared Brogan for hard lessons. “Mom had to do everything on her own. Because of me, her life was difficult.” She’d never failed to remind him of that. “Neither of them had wanted me, but Mom was right. At least she’d given me a place to live. I had a mattress to sleep on, and heat in the winter and a fan in the summer. There was always food to eat.” He gave a smile. “Just not her food.”
“It’s not funny,” Pixie said with tears in her voice. She gave him another fierce hug.
Maybe not, but it had been a valuable lesson. “I decided fast food wasn’t for me, not unless I worked, made money, and bought it myself. Or if she offered to share, which she did occasionally.”
“I’m very glad you’re here with me now, where you are definitely wanted.”
He shifted them around until she was on her back and he was over her, one large hand cupping her face. “That’s exactly what I was trying to say to you. I went my whole life without realizing how nice that is.” Her blue eyes were full of emotion, and he loved it. He loved her. “I like this feeling a lot, Pixie. I swear to you, I will do my best to take care of you. To make you feel as good as you make me feel.”
