Page 23 of Nothing to Fear

“If it wasn’t good, they wouldn’t keep doing it, would they?” Something else lit his gaze. “What am I missing?”

“You want some wine or—”

“Darroch,” she said, grabbing for his thigh.

His glint of amusement matched his surrender. “Two things Breckenridge men don’t share.”

“And the second is women, I remember. What’s the first?”

“Genes,” he said, inspiring her frown. “Most of us, well, some of us, are adopted.”

“You’re adopted. All of you?”

“Some are biological, some are not. We never ask or talk about it. We’re family. It’s important to our mom that we’re equal.”

Huh, gosh, complex, compassionate, and… How did that feature in a person’s psyche? Were the boys curious? Were they allowed to know? Did they care? Any of them? That layered something else into the family, a perspective she hadn’t considered.

“Are you adopted?”

His fingers came to hers, stroking between them, reminding her she’d planted a hand on his leg. With his strength above, she couldn’t withdraw.

“Would it make a difference?”

“A difference?” she asked. “Maybe if you needed a kidney.”

“To you, Cherry. Would it make a difference to you?”

“It’s none of my business.”

Right, so maybe she shouldn’t have asked. The query slipped out all on its own. In a kneejerk response to the statement, she’d just blurted out an insensitive question withoutconsidering its repercussions. But, come on, cutting herself a break, could she be surprised by her lack of tact around him?

He didn’t seem to share the sentiment. “Sure it is.” No offense to be had. “Your guy’s business is your business.”

“You are not my guy.”

“Humor me.”

Man, her head was foggy, her senses drowned in this proximity. How could a man so hot live and breathe right there in front of her like that?

Basic functions became more difficult by the second. Focus.Focus.

“Okay,” she said, doubling down on her effort to concentrate. “What was the question?”

“Would it matter to you if I was adopted?” The thought lingered. The longer she sat there the harder it got to figure out. “Guess no answer is—”

“I’m trying to—why?” she asked, squinting.

“Why what?”

“Why would it make a difference to the woman in your life? If you’re together, why would adoption factor into anyone’s feelings? Because you’re not sure of your genetic history or something? Do people really make decisions about who to love based on their gene pool? What else could it be? Why would a prospective partner care?”

“You want me to answer that?”

“Would I have asked if I didn’t?”

Maybe it wasn’t wise to be obtuse when they were alone, and it was hot, and… shit, he was hot. There was that lip again, enticement, oh so close, oh so almost within reach.

“Because some, on the outside, might worry the non-blood Breckenridges aren’t entitled to an equal portion of the pot.”

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