“Do you ever go back? To Happy Bend, I mean.”

“I went back once. For my great-grandmother’s funeral.”

“How old were you then?”

She licked her lips, trying to ignore the pain in her chest. “Twenty-three.”

“Do you still have family there?”

“I imagine so. I don’t have much contact with any of them. I hear from an aunt from time to time.”

“They never took you in?”

Erin had urged her to share more with people and she was usually right. So she’d give it a shot.

“Sometimes. They were dirt poor, most of them. The aunt I have contact with sometimes, she and my mother are sisters. Were sisters. Whatever. Anyway, she’s been plagued with health problems and a variety of addictions.” Like the rest. Alcoholics and crazy people. She came from such fine stock.

“I lived with her on and off until I was six. She went to jail a few times. Had to move from one run-down, piece-of-shit place to another.”

She shrugged but he took her hand, saying nothing.

“Don’t.” She pulled her hand back.

“Don’t what?”

“Pity me. I don’t need your pity.” It’s why she hated talking about any of it.

“I don’t pity you. I care about you. I can hear the pain in your voice. I offered comfort. It doesn’t make you weak to take it.”

“This is all easy for you to say. Academic even.”

“Is that what it is? Only people who’ve suffered like you can understand what it means?”

“Don’t be an asshole.”

“You already told me I was one. Don’t be a bitch.”

“I already told you I was one as well.”

“That must be why we work.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, staring out the window.

“Are you going to close off?”

“Back. Off.”

“No.”

She whipped her head to get a good look at this man she’d been so silly to think she could be with. Pushy!

“Just take me home.”

“You agreed to come spend the day with me.”

“That’s before you started being all pushy and nosy.”

“I was born pushy and nosy. Ask anyone. You knew that when you got in the car with me. You knew that when you opened your door to me this morning.”

“Look, this is . . . We’re just having some fun. You’re making it more than it is.”

It was his turn to snort. “Bullshit. Evasion is one thing. Lying is a whole different thing and, frankly, beneath you. This is far more than just some fun and you know it. If it was just fun you’d have told me to fuck off when I demanded your monogamy.”

“I should have.”

“But you didn’t. Because you know it’s more than just fun. It’s more and you can’t deny it. I won’t let you.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you. You’re nothing like anyone I’ve ever known before and that appeals to me a great deal.”

“Oh, so I’m your walk on the wild side then?”

“Fuck you. Fuck you, Raven, for thinking you can use that to keep me out.”

The slice of anger in his tone didn’t scare her. Well, it did, but not for her physical safety. Just her everything. It should have made her feel better, but instead, she knew it had been a tactical error. He wasn’t going to be scared off. He was too damned stubborn for that.

And maybe that’s why she’d done it. To test him. But he wasn’t a boy to play with. He was a man. A man who knew what he wanted.

“I have a life. Everything is in order. I like my schedule and how I live. And you come in and in less than a month you’re turning shit upside down and demanding I . . .”

“Share? Tell me about your life? How dare I? Is it that you think I’d judge you? That you don’t think you can trust me to keep your confidences?”

“Look, sometimes you say things and you can’t unsay them. You can’t unknow them.”

“But you already know them. They happened to you.” The anger was gone and his calm was back, laced with a kind of gentleness that tore at her.

“Living them was enough. I’ve spent most of my life trying to forget!” She slammed her fist into her thigh so hard she knew she’d have a bruise.

“Baby, maybe you shouldn’t. Maybe you should get it all out and slay those demons.”

The endearment nearly pushed her to frustrated tears.

“Which is so easy for you to say! You grew up with a family. You grew up knowing exactly where you’d sleep every single night. I bet your parents tucked you in. I didn’t even know that was a reality until I was fifteen years old.”

“It is easy for me to say. Certainly easier than for you. And yes, sometimes we got tucked in. Enough that I knew how important it was to tuck my own child in every night. What happened? When you were fifteen, I mean?”

“No. That’s not open for discussion.”

He froze. “Someone hurt you.”

“Lots of someones hurt me, Jonah. Don’t try to avenge me now. I’m past it.”

“No, you aren’t. Or you could talk about it.”

“Have you ever stopped to think, just once, that people don’t like to discuss unpleasant things?”

“Sure. But this is more than that. What happened to your mother?”

She blew out a breath. “She was a drug addict. She had me, dumped me on my grandmother, who was just as much of a mess as my mother was. So I got dumped on her mother.”

“So you never saw her? In your childhood?”

“A few times. She’d come to town, promise me she was better. She stayed with my great-grandmother too. Once she even rented us a house and had a job.”

Tears threatened and she clamped her lips tight, willing them back. Pushing the humiliation, the shame and disappointment as far away as she could.

He must have sensed it because he backed off. For a few minutes anyway.

“What’s your favorite food?”

“Pot roast.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Why do you sound so surprised? Am I not allowed to like pot roast?”

“No.” He laughed. “God, you’re so fucking defensive about everything.”

“And yet you can’t get enough.”

He took her hand, pulling when she tried to snatch it back. He kissed her knuckles. “This is so goddamned true you have no idea. For what it’s worth, I like pot roast too. With roasted potatoes.”

“Hm.”

“That sound manages to be dismissive, annoyed, sexy and funny all at once. I even hear it when I’m not with you.”

“Part of my many charms.”

“They’re legion. My favorite food is tacos.”

“Really?”

“Now it’s my turn to ask why you sound so surprised.”

“You seem like a well-aged-steak-and-scotch sort of dude.”

“No denying the appeal of a good steak and some scotch. But tacos are something I can make. They’re portable. Most places manage to do them well if they’re on the menu.”

“The next time you go to L.A. I can tell you a few places I love.”

“You seem pretty fond of Los Angeles. Why did you come up here then?”

“Brody.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. At first anyway. I met him in L.A. through a mutual friend who does tattoos. I liked him immediately. I mean, what’s not to like? Anyway, then I met Erin and she and I hit it off. She lived in L.A. too. But I came up here a lot to see Brody. He took me under his wing, taught me a whole lot. I started working at his shop. Filling in here and there. He never tried to make me into something I wasn’t. He let me come and go.

“Plus, its cool here. And green and clean. Far, far from Happy Bend. I still go to Los Angeles at least once a year. But I suppose I’ve ended up calling Seattle my home. As much as I have a home anyway.”

“What went wrong with Brody?”

“He’s a good man. In the end he wanted something I couldn’t give. I told him that but he . . . I guess he expected better of me and I disappointed him. Hurt him. And then we were on and off. Truly, better as friends than we were as lovers. Elise came into the picture. God, I hated her at first. Well, that’s not entirely accurate. I didn’t really mind her at first. But once I saw he was really into her, that the thing between them was way more than just a flirtation, then I hated her.”