realizing that his woman would take more than he’d ever thought he had it in him to give. When he could finally look at her again, the anger was gone from her face and in its place were concern and speculation. She saw things in him he didn’t even allow his brothers to see. He’d had to be so careful, always, guarding every emotion, never letting on, even to the other children, staying very low-key and calm for his brothers and sisters, never sharing the turmoil and chaos that could rise unexpectedly. She seemed to see that in him, no matter how much he tried to hide it.
He turned away from her, knowing by her expression it was already too late. He needed to lash out, to save himself. He opened his mouth.
She got there first. “Zane is a beautiful little boy,” she said, unexpectedly, as if giving him a gift.
He reached behind him for the door. For the knob. He could take all kinds of punishment. Fists. Whips. You name it, he’d managed. But she undid him in ways he hadn’t expected and had no idea how to handle. He realized she believed she was giving him a gift and she’d done it to soothe him, the way she did all the women she’d taken care of after they’d been beaten or used cruelly. The way she’d done with the children when they were frightened. It was ingrained in her. Deep. A part of her character in the same way it was ingrained in him.
“He’s very much like you already. His personality, I mean. He’s already thinking he needs to look after his mommy. He tries to feed me with his spoon and he always shares with me. Once I tripped and fell down. Of course, I protected him, but he was so upset and kept trying to make the ‘boo-boo’ better.” She smiled at the memory.
He couldn’t respond. His chest hurt. His gut twisted. His woman. That was so like her, to try to turn things around for him. She did that for everyone. It sucked that her man was the one needing her instead of the other way around.
“I’ve got pictures of him on my phone. It’s in the pocket of my jeans if you’d like to see him. He’s absolutely beautiful, Steele.”
It was a gift she was giving him. He took the opportunity to turn away from her and find her jeans folded neatly on the chair. She’d always done that, folded everything so carefully. Once she realized it was important to him to keep his room and things clean—not just clean, nearly sterile—she’d done so. He’d bet any amount of money she kept wherever she was living the same way.
Her phone wasn’t the best, up-to-date one, but it had a decent camera on it. He turned it over. The case was one of the ones that was shatterproof, so she protected it. He stole a glance at her. The tension in the room had gone up slowly again. She didn’t like her phone in his hands and that annoyed him.
“What’s your passcode?”
She held out her hand. “I’ll do it and get his pictures for you.”
He kept the phone. “You got another man in here or something? You been cheating on me?” The moment he said it he knew he’d screwed up again. He was totally sabotaging himself. Was he that afraid she’d discover what he was inside? He shook his head. “God, baby, pretend I didn’t say that. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me. I know who the screwup is, and it isn’t you.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose and then pressed his fingers to the corner of his eyes. “I need another chance here, Bree. Would you mind giving me your passcode?”
“Not at all, if you don’t mind giving me yours.”
It was a challenge, and she should have known better. He didn’t have anything to lose. He didn’t keep women in his phone—with the exception of her. He had quite a few Breezy pictures. He’d kept every single one he’d ever taken of her, including ones, if she saw them, she wouldn’t be happy he’d taken, but he spent a lot of time alone with those particular photographs. Without hesitation, he handed her his phone and gave her his code.
She frowned, that adorable little frown he’d fallen for years earlier, but she reciprocated, giving him her code. “It’s Zane’s birthday,” she added. “My boss gifted me with the