“Actually, it wasn’t. You see, my family was poor. Not poor as in, new shoes were hard to come by. Poor as in, we relied on the church and neighbors for clothes and food. Mom and Dad could have worked, but they didn’t. And whenever they did get money, they blew it on things that in no way changed our circumstances.”
“They couldn’t find jobs?”
Ashley toyed with her coffee cup. She hadn’t seen her folks in ages. Sadly, she didn’t miss them at all. “They could’ve if they’d wanted them, but they enjoyed their leisure time too much. I mean, what’s better than sitting on the couch all day with a cold beer, a cigarette, and the soaps?” She laughed, remembering how, even as a little kid, she’d known they weren’t good people. “Dad had been a truck driver, but after he got laid off, he spent all his time bitching about the company instead of looking for new work. He wanted everyone to feel sorry for him.”
“How long was he off work?”
“From the time I was ten until I skipped out at seventeen. After that I don’t know. I haven’t been back.”
“You left your home at seventeen?”
“Yeah. I was a real crusader, out to prove something. I’ve forgotten what.” But she didn’t want to talk about that. The memories sucked big-time, and rehashing them wouldn’t change a thing. “Trust me, leaving was the best decision I ever made.”
He grew very solemn. “Then home must have been pretty tough.”
She mustered a heavy dose of sarcasm. “Mostly it was an embarrassment. I had a self-proclaimed ‘stay at home’ mom, who was determined that I’d be different. I wasn’t allowed to do…anything—but that was mostly because anything I might have done would have required her involvement. Our house was a dump. Our yard was a jungle, housing a bad septic system that could be seen and smelled for blocks. It seemed everyone who looked at me did so with pity.”
“Jesus.” He reached for her hand, but she didn’t want sympathy any more now than she had as a child.
She slid into the corner of the booth and affected a casual slouch. “Yeah, well obviously if I’d had any friends, which I didn’t, I wouldn’t have brought them home with me. I didn’t like being at my house, so subjecting anyone else to it was out of the question.”
“You had no friends at all?”
She didn’t tell him that other kids had ridiculed her. “They didn’t want me around, and I didn’t want to be around them.”
“I’m sorry.”
Through a haze of remembered humiliation and learned aggression, she saw the compassion in Quinton’s eyes. It made her stomach churn. She considered making a run for it, but that felt too cowardly.
Instead, she resorted to more sarcasm. Staring him straight in his sexy green eyes, totally deadpan, she said, “And then my dog died.”
So much horror filled his gaze that she half laughed and took pity on him. “Ah, buck up, Buttercup. I was just funnin’ you.”
“Funning me?”
“I didn’t have a dog, Quinton. In fact, I’ve never had any pet. One kid was more trouble than my parents wanted. No way in hell would they have put up with an animal too.”
Irritation overrode his earlier emotions. “It’s hardly a joking matter.”
“You were getting all sappy on me. I thought you were about to cry.”
He grumbled under his breath, which only made her chuckle again. “It wasn’t all that bad, seriously. I made friends with May, and when you meet her, you’ll see that one friend like May is worth a million others.”
“A friend is not the same as family.”
But in this case it was. She shook her head, not about to share that thought aloud. “If you knew my family, you’d know that May is much, much better.”
He still appeared disgruntled with her, but he let it go to say, “I look forward to making her acquaintance.”
“So.” She spread her arms out, then let her hands drop onto the table. “You wanted to know why I hadn’t gotten involved with anyone. Now I’ve told you. End of story.”
While thinking through what she had told him, he toyed with his coffee cup. “That had to have been eight or nine years ago.”
“Ten. I’m twenty-seven now.”
His gaze swept up to capture hers. “A long time to hang on to your virginity.” His eyes narrowed. “Are you telling me that in all that time, not a single guy has interested you?”
“I’ve had a date here and there over the years. But other things took precedence.”
“Like?”
Survival. She shook her head, not about to share that with him. “I keep telling you, I’ve been too busy—”
“So there you are.”
At the sound of that cantankerous voice, Ashley jerked around and found Denny Zip looming over her.
She groaned. “Great. Just freaking great.” As an ex-military man, ex-fighter and trainer, and overall bossy forty-seven-year-old hard-ass, Denny made a most impressive sight with impeccable timing. His appearance kept her from saying something maudlin that would make her feel foolish.
Tall, muscular, and with an air of complete control, Denny turned heads in the diner. He wore a snug tan T-shirt and brown trousers. Through his thinning brown hair, a mean tattoo showed.
But for Ashley he was a pussycat. A pseudo father, big brother, and knight in shining armor all rolled into one. His best friend, Jude, was marrying her best friend, May. She supposed that accounted for Denny’s weird loyalty and mile-wide protective streak toward her.
But then Denny’s protectiveness went beyond her. Despite the rough exterior, he was a genuinely nice guy who wanted to take care of anyone smaller, weaker, younger, or older than he was. Ashley adored him, but she’d never told him so. He enjoyed their antagonistic banter too much for her to steal his fun.
“Excuse me?” Quinton rose out of his seat, his tone courteous but his expression suspicious, bordering on hostile.
Ashley didn’t know if he intended to challenge Denny, which would be a mistake, or introduce himself.
Denny defused the motive, whatever it might be, by waving Quinton back down. “Save it, boy. It’s too early for a pissing contest.” And then to her, “Scoot over, girl. I have a bone to pick with you.”
Scrambling fast so he didn’t end up on her lap, Ashley said, “Gee, Denny, why don’t you join us?”
“I intend to.” He took her coffee cup and drained it, then, with covetous intent, stared toward her mostly full plate. “You going to eat that?”
She shoved it toward him. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks.
