Page 60 of Fire in My Heart

“I was looking for reasons not to like you. I didn’t want anything to change around here.”

“I got that.” I relaxed slightly.

“I couldn’t understand how anyone could be so joyful all the time.”

“You found my positivity off-putting?” I might have heard that criticism a time or two.

“My mom got sick and died. I started to expect the worst of people and everything around me.”

“Your job didn’t help that assumption.”

“I see the worst society has to offer. For a short time, I wondered if your happiness was a cover for everything you went through as a kid.”

“It was a decision I made. I could look at things in a negative way and eventually drown myself in a bottle like my dad. Or I could put a positive spin on everything. It was hard at first, but then it got easier. And now, that’s just how I see things. An obstacle is an opportunity, a challenge even. A rejection is protection from something that wasn’t good for me. There’s something better out there for me.”

“I kind of love that about you.”

“Maybe some of my positivity will rub off on you?” I asked gently.

“Not sure I need it. But I like spending time with you.”

That was good enough for now. “Well, I’m turning into a prune, and my stomach is rumbling.”

I tried and failed not to swoon when he grabbed a fluffy towel and wrapped me inside of it, patting me down.

“A girl could get used to this.”

Something flashed across his eyes before it was gone. Was it regret? “I like to take care of people.”

“Me too.” The only difference was that I never got that inreturn from a boyfriend. I usually did the caring, and they did the taking. So this was a nice change. “Some people will take advantage of that personality trait.”

He pulled on his briefs, then turned to face me. “Can I dry your hair? There’s a chill in the house.”

“Um. Yeah. That would be nice.” That was an inadequate word for what this was.

He set up a folded towel on the edge of the tub, then motioned for me to sit on the fluffy carpet between his legs.

I grabbed a brush and the hair dryer, handing both to him. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Daphne needed help to get tangles out of her hair after Mom died.”

“You did that?” I settled between his legs, lowering my head so he could drag the bristles through the stands. I was glad he couldn’t see my face right now.

His admissions were breaking my heart. How many men would transfer colleges to be closer to home and take care of their siblings? Then take the time to brush out the tangles in his sister’s hair?

Not any I’d ever met. Even my brother had escaped from our home life.

“She needed my help, and Dad didn’t have the patience to deal with tangles. He was barely making it through the day.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, imagining this man brushing his little sister’s hair. “Not many people would do that.”

“I wanted to care for my siblings.”

“Your family is so close.” Instead of drifting away after a tragedy, they’d only grown tighter.

“I did what needed to be done, and I don’t regret any of it. Even if it meant I lost out on a regular college experience. I was there to get my degree, then go to the police academy. And my family kept me on that path.”

He turned on the hair dryer, which made talking difficult,and my eyes drifted shut as he carefully dried my hair. I couldn’t remember anyone doing this for me, even my mother. She was too concerned about whether my father ate dinner or left his recliner after he got home from work.

---