dug into his lasagna and took a bite, hoping Jillian would get the hint that he didn’t want to talk in detail about the past. There were too many mitigating factors that had caused him to leave the force, too much other stuff to reveal. And no matter how much he enjoyed her company, he wasn’t ready to spill his guts yet. And he wasn’t sure he’d ever be.
“Like I told you,” he said, “it’s complicated.”
She waited a beat, yet didn’t let up on him. “Okay, then tell me about yourself. Where were you born? What kind of childhood did you have?”
He supposed he couldn’t blame her for being curious. He had a lot of questions for her, too.
“There’s not much to tell,” he said. “I was born in Houston and grew up as the youngest of three boys and two girls in a big, close-knit family.”
She leaned forward, as if he’d told her something interesting. “It’s nice that you have a big family.”
He’d always thought so. He watched her spear a piece of broccoli with her fork. The candlelight glistened on the platinum strands of her hair, making her appear radiant and almost…angelic.
Unaware of his gaze, she looked up and smiled. “I never knew my father, so it was only my mom and me at first. After my mother died, I moved in with my grandparents. I’m afraid it’s just Gram and me now.”
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