Page 67 of Bared

“You mean for me?”

Fuck, he enjoyed how her beautiful mind worked. “And what you did for me, as well. It was a two-way circuit, Jayd.”

Her smile widened. “Oh yes, it was.”

“But you’ve still been taught to think of it as wrong.”

“Were you not taught the same?”

“Sweetheart, most of my education about my dick and where it belongs came courtesy of some softhearted hookers on slow nights in South Park.”

Her brows knitted. “Where?”

“It’s a suburb of Seattle.” He didn’t bother going into the gritty—correction: the grimy and reeking—details about that one.

“Seattle,” she echoed. “A lovely city. I have been there a few times. On official tours with my parents and brothers, of course.”

“Which is why you still think all of it is lovely.”

A chill wafted over her expression. It was enough to convey she’d listened—and understood—him. “So that is your hometown?”

“If that’s the word that fits, then yes.”

“Is there another that fits better?”

Why he hesitated about responding, he didn’t know. She might be phrasing the questions a little differently than other women, but they weren’t new. He had more than enough experience with dodging them too. But there was the fucking rub. This time, he didn’t want to. With this woman, who’d given him the brightest heat of her body and the scariest secrets of her heart, he didn’t want to play duck and cover. He yearned to give her the same.

Okay, some of the same.

“You’re asking that of a guy who doesn’t really know what that word means, Pixie.” The confession felt as awkward as it sounded, but he ordered himself to go on. “Growing up, home meant a corner of the living room at my aunt and uncle’s place, next to a leaky window and a fire escape that was very popular for the horny cats on the block.”

A small frown crumpled her forehead. “Your aunt and uncle? But what about your maimanne and paipanne? Your parents?”

“Not around.”

He braced himself for her reaction. The same response he got from everyone, drenched in sorrow and pity, whenever he tried to shut down his revelation by just making shit simple. And yeah, Jayd did switch up her expression—but to neither of the intents he was dreading. Her reaction was different. Remarkably so. She actually seemed interested in what he was relaying. Curious, not condoling.

“So you were raised by others.” Again, it was more a statement of fact than a token of sympathy. It was almost like she…understood. No. Beyond that. It was as if she’d been through the exact same thing. And maybe, in her own way, she had.

“That also might be a matter of interpretation.” He pointedly cleared his throat. “But I think Roz and Jerry tried their best, considering they didn’t know I existed until the call from Seattle PD.” His shrug felt as stiff as it appeared. “Couldn’t have been easy for old Jer, dealing with a disappeared brother and a magically manifested nephew in the same night.”

“Of course.” She emulated his move, though it looked like her shoulder blades were wrapped in rebar. “Everyone does their best, do they not?” Okay, not rebar. Her whole torso was turning into a steel girder. Even her gaze favored the harsh shade of the metal. “But you can acknowledge that and still be sad about what you missed. Your own parents.” She visibly gulped. “Your real parents.”

Rebelling against all his wiser instincts, Brick’s throat closed up tighter. Shit. He should’ve known that zinger would be coming from her. But now the conversational ball was back in his court. Time to move things forward. Wallowing had never been his thing.

“I got out of Roz’s and Jer’s hair in a few years anyway,” he relayed. “Once I was strong enough to get some decent work, I did. Mostly it was just lugging boxes and cleaning out storage rooms, but a lot of times there were spare cots in those places. Many of those times, I’d be allowed to sleep over in exchange for cut pay. It was always just the basics, but it kept my ass from having to sleep in constant rain puddles.”

“Go on.”

Go on?

But now that he’d gotten started, he actually wanted to go on. It felt good to indulge the whole “talk to a stranger” shit, especially when said stranger was such a gorgeous and generous woman. It was also nice to notice that he wasn’t inducing her to a pity party or completely weirding her out. But the expression that was on her face…

He couldn’t figure it out. So now he was weirding out.

“So you were well-prepared for your military service, then.”

Well, hell.