Free Change of Harte (Harte, #2) (Harte Series) by Brooke Harris Page B

layer of secrets, it was most likely going to get messy—but she was past worrying about that. She could handle messy. In fact, she was hoping for it.
    ‘What were you parents’ names?’
    ‘My father was Terry and my mother was Deirdre, but everyone called her Dee.’
    Julian didn’t flinch; in fact, he had almost no reaction except to smile a little when he said his mother’s nickname. The answer slipped off his tongue as simply as if she’d asked him his favourite colour. It wasn’t what she expected. She’d expected a little hesitation, at least. This was her game, but this was Julian she was playing with. She’d asked a simple question—as friends do. He’d given a simple answer—as friends do, but now she was as confused as hell. Nothing with Julian was ever simple. The cheeky bastard was trying to play her at her own game. She’d have to stay one step ahead. God, he always tested her. It was exhausting. He was turning her brain to mush. She didn’t know why. Maybe it was because, instead of talking, she’d prefer to be lying back on the bed behind them with her legs spread and his face buried between them.
    Eva tugged the collar of her robe away from her neck. She was suddenly a lot warmer than she was comfortable with. If Julian looked her up and down one more time, she was either going to slap him or strip him and fuck him on the spot.
    She coughed a little, clearing her throat, and hopefully her head.
    ‘Okay, thank you. So, brothers and sisters. Do you have any?’
    ‘I was the oldest. I had a little sister and a newborn baby brother.’
    ‘Had?’ Eva didn’t like this game after all. ‘Did they…’
    ‘Die?’
    She nodded.
    ‘It was a house fire. The whole place went up in a matter of seconds. A complete mess.’
    Eva’s hand flew to cover her mouth. ‘Oh, my God, Julian. I had no idea. I never would have…’
    ‘What? Asked?’
    ‘Well, pushed you so hard to talk about it. I’m sorry.’
    Julian stepped back and sat on the edge of the bed. His usually toned and delicious body looked heavy and hunched now. As if just remembering had aged him instantly. He rocked a little, back and forth, like a weary, old man. And finally looked up at Eva, smiling.
    ‘I haven’t said my parents’ names in twenty-three years.’
    ‘That’s a long time.’
    ‘Too long. Crazy long. It’s too hard to talk about them, and I try not to think about them.’
    Eva sat beside him, her shoulder pressing against his arm.
    ‘You need to remember them. They’re your parents.’
    Julian tapped his chest with his fingers. ‘Kettle,’ he pointed to Eva, ‘Pot.’
    She smiled. ‘Oh, no you don’t. You’re not going to make this about me. For once, we’re talking about you. Tell me more. I want to know all about your family.’
    Julian took her hand in his and raised it to his lips, kissing it softly. ‘I never talk about this stuff.’
    ‘Well, never ends today. Tell me, Julian. Please? Sounds like you really loved your mom and dad.’
    ‘Yeah. Yes, I did. They were great.’ Julian ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it a bit.
    His face looks even more beautiful when he allows himself to be vulnerable , Eva thought.
    ‘My dad was big into Rally Racing. He’d driven in a few races. Brought me along a couple of times to watch. He always said it wasn’t about winning, just how you play the game.’
    ‘That’s great advice.’             
    Julian laughed. ‘Yeah, it was, and then my mam would always say, ‘Nonsense, Terry, now go kick some arse.’’
    ‘Ha. I like the sound of your mom. I bet she was beautiful.’
    Julian stood up suddenly and Eva froze. She was conscious of pushing him too far. He pulled his wallet out from his inside jacket pocket and handed Eva a small, tattered-around-the-edges photo from inside.
    ‘She was beautiful,’ Julian said as Eva studied the aged photo.
    ‘Wow. This is her.’ Eva pointed to the lady in a lemon, summer dress by the sea. She was