The moment she settled, he said, “Don’t change things, all right. Beck doesn’t like it.”
“Figured that out on my own, thanks.”
“Yeah, but I wanted you to hear it from your boss.”
Had stressing those last two words really been necessary?
“You’re in charge,” she said, somehow managing not to roll her eyes. “I get it.”
“Good.”
“Why doesn’t Beck like change?”
Jase stiffened, his fork pausing midway to his mouth. A haunted gleam darkened his eyes, turning the emeralds into stormy onyx. “He has his reasons” was all he said. “We all do.”
And they weren’t pleasant reasons, she realized. Like maybe a change in his past had devastated him so terribly he now preserved what he could of his present.
After the death of her dad, she’d experienced a similar reaction, not wanting his things to be altered in any way. “I’m surprised you and West convinced him to move here.”
He shifted in his seat, inching away from her. “How long have you lived in Strawberry Valley?”
Message received. Beck wasn’t her business. “All my life,” she said.
“Must be nice, having roots.”
Meaning he’d never had them? The thought saddened her. “A lot of the people here have their quirks, but when my mom died, they really stepped up to the plate to help Jessie Kay and me.”
“How old were you?”
“Fifteen.”
“What happened?”
“Long story.”
“Then you should probably get started.”
“I’m sure you’ve got better things to do,” she began, shifting uncomfortably.
“I don’t. Talk. I want to hear.”
She rarely shared the gruesome details, but his desire to know eased her reservations. “Well, we’d lost our dad years before in an explosion at Dairyland. Every year since we would spend a weekend camping in his favorite spot. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s a river that runs through the north edge of town. He loved it there. We would plant flowers in his honor, but that year Jessie Kay was doing twirls and tripped on a rock, and she dropped the flowers in the water. She dove in after them, and our mom dove in after her. The current was strong and swept them away. I gave chase on land, screaming for help, but no one was around. Jessie Kay finally managed to drag Mom to shore, but she...she was already dead and neither of us could revive her.”
“Jessie Kay blames herself?”
“Yes.” Nothing Brook Lynn had said had ever changed the girl’s mind. She cleared her throat, once, twice, waiting as the trembling in her chin stopped. “Speaking of my amazing sister, did I tell you she bakes the best strawberry cookies in the history of ever?” Truth. If Brook Lynn helped her do the baking.
He blinked at her, as if he wasn’t quite sure how the topic had veered so drastically.
“Do you like strawberry cookies?” she asked.
“Who took care of you?” he asked, focusing only on that. “Jessie Kay had to be...what? Seventeen?”
“Yes. An uncle came to stay with us for a while.”
“Was he good to you? Were your parents?”
“My parents were awesome, the best of the best. Mom used to tell us she loved us with all her heart, adored us with all her mind and would always momma-bear-protect us with her whole body.” She smiled with fond remembrance. “My dad called us his favorite princesses and built us castles made out of blankets.”
His face expressed a mix of awe and sadness. “And your uncle?”
She lost her smile in a hurry. “He was as far from awesome as humanly possible. He was a thief, a liar and a deadbeat. He only came around when he needed something or to convince Jessie Kay and me to help him hustle. People trust kids, he’d say. Then he took off with Mom’s insurance money.”
“I’m sorry, honey.” The tension in his voice confused her.
She continued anyway. “You want to know what’s silly about the whole thing? I was sad when he was gone. He was the only family we had left.”
Jase wiped away the beads of sweat that had popped up on his forehead. “Where is he now?”
“Dead. About a year after he left us, he conned the wrong person.” Desperate to learn more about Jase, she asked, “What about your parents?”
He finished the meal without responding, drained his glass of water.
Clearly, even though she’d shared some of her most painful memories, he’d just shut down yet another subject. But fine. Whatever. She was disappointed, but she could roll. “Did you know that Jessie Kay is an expert dancer? She took ballet classes for years. Really knows how to move.”
Which he’d probably learned while he’d had her in bed. Ugh.
A muscle jumped in his jaw. He stalked to the sink, ignoring praise of her sister a second time.
“Did you know Jessie Kay was once crowned Miss Strawberry Valley? She was only eighteen.” Some people—cough, Charlene Burns, cough—liked to say she’d won simply because she was an orphan and the judges had felt sorry for her.
Some people were idiots.
Again, nothing from Jase.
Guilt, such an insidious creature, slithered through Brook Lynn. Because part of her liked his lack of reaction.
I’m a terrible sister. Jessie Kay had dibs and that was that. Besides, Brook Lynn would never be able to overlook the fact that Jase wanted what she didn’t: something temporary.