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She licked along her lower lip to swipe away the dab of mayo there. “At one point, I stopped caring that they didn’t want me around. I didn’t want them around. And I did my best to piss them off when they were there.” She took another bite of her baguette. “I was pushing them away, I guess. But they pushed first.”
Jesus, no wonder she made no attempt to bond with people. She’d never really had bonds growing up. She’d been passed around like a fucking parcel, no one asking to keep her with them; no one insisting her parents step up. Emotional isolation was what she knew. Anything beyond that and she was out of her comfort zone.
“I truly do think I was better off with Corbin,” she said, her brow briefly pinching in annoyance as an onion slipped out of her baguette. “I don’t wish the nest hadn’t banished me.”
He heard the ring of truth there, knew she meant it. “But what they did had to have hurt all the same.” They’d effectively abandoned her.
“It stung, sure, but I was used to being dumped on other people, so it probably didn’t affect me as deeply as it would have other kids. Really, I don’t wish they’d kept me with them. And while I obviously regret that my parents are dead, I’d be lying if I said their loss shaped me. You can’t lose what you never had. They were there, but they weren’t parents.”
Their deaths might not have shaped her, but their failure to parent her had played a huge part in making her the person she was today. A person who didn’t form attachments. A person who didn’t expect people to care for her. A person who’d look shocked as all shit when a guy told her that he wouldn’t change her.
As far as he was concerned, her parents were assholes, but that wasn’t something she needed to hear. “I’m glad you had Corbin, your girls, and Camden.”
“So am I.” She set down her baguette and grabbed her drink again. “Now let’s talk about something else. Something fun and not boring.”
Knowing it had been difficult for her to open up and appreciating that she had, he didn’t push her to keep going. If she needed a change of subject, he’d give it to her. “Like what?”
“Your cock.”
He sighed, figuring he should have expected she’d say something along those lines. He leaned toward her and lowered his voice as he said, “We can talk about what I intend to do to you with it later.”
She grinned. “I’m always up for these conversations. Do tell.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Breathing in the scents of greenery, tree bark, and stagnant pond water the next day, Bailey glanced around. Any human who stepped out onto the complex’s communal yard would no doubt be horrified by the state of it. The grass was overgrown and weedy. The bushes were thick and untamed. Leaves and wood fragments floated on the surface of the pond.
More, the clusters of tall trees were covered in moss and territorial claw marks. And the rockeries were nothing like the decorative ones often seen in backyards; they were messy and chaotic. But this place was a pallas cat’s playground.
They might not claim territory like most breeds of shifter, but they needed space for their animals to run. Bailey herself often let her snake loose here to explore and relax. She wouldn’t be doing that today, though. Because she didn’t quite trust that her serpent wouldn’t end up fighting with Deke’s cat.
Yes, he intended to give the animal a little freedom. Since the feline had recently developed the habit of picking fights with his pride mates, the other shifters who’d been playing in the garden had already left. His cat still had no interest in interacting with others … which was why Bailey disagreed with Deke’s current theory.
Turning to him, she said, “I don’t see how this could possibly be a good idea.”
“My cat won’t hurt you.” Deke jiggled his head, adding, “Unless you come too close.”
“That right there is the problem. I’m apt to push the broody little shit.”
“He resents being called that.”
“Doesn’t make it untrue.” She sighed. “Are you sure you don’t want me to head inside?”
“I’m positive.” He whipped off his tee, baring all that likable taut skin stretched over hard muscle. “As much as he might not want physical contact with you, he does like having you close; he considers you his. Which you are.” Deke’s gaze dipped to the wickedly visible brand on the column of her throat.
He’d marked her a few times the previous night. Her inner thigh and the crook of her neck both also now sported bites, but the one on her throat was the deepest. He’d wanted no one to miss that she was taken, he’d explained.
