Summer Secrets - Barbara Freethy [43]
"Something else we have in common."
Disbelief flashed through her eyes. "That's a stretch. I can't believe you don't have a social life." She paused. "So, what's wrong with you?"
"I don't think there's anything wrong with me."
"There must be, if the girls are turning you down."
"I may have heard a few comments about working too much." Along with not being able to open up, not trusting anyone with personal information, not sharing his thoughts, not putting his heart into the relationship, and numerous other complaints. Tyler didn't really understand why the women he'd dated felt they had a reason to complain. He'd never promised to give his heart. He'd never led anyone on. But it didn't matter. Women who started off okay with casual inevitably ended up wanting more, a lot more.
"Travels all the time, doesn't want to commit, here today, gone tomorrow," Kate said with a knowing nod. "Ambitious, competitive, willing to sacrifice anyone and anything for what you want. I know the type. I grew up with one."
"Your father?"
"Yes. He's a charming man, gregarious, fun loving, a storyteller. Most people think he's a terrific guy. Kind of like you, I bet. But my father has a dark side, an obsessive nature, an ambition that knows no bounds." Her blue eyes filled with shadows. "He has a desire to win at all costs."
"And you think I'm like that?" Tyler asked, annoyed by her assessment. She didn't know the first thing about him, didn't know where he'd come from, what he'd been through, what winning even meant to a man who'd lost everything very early in life.
She stared at him for a long moment. "Aren't you?"
"No, but I know someone who is like that. My own father."
"What do you mean?"
He didn't answer right away. Talking about himself had never come easy. And his natural reticence had been increased by his father's constant reminders: No one needs to know who we are, where we come from, what we're doing here. Just keep quiet. Mind your own business, and make sure they mind theirs.
"Tyler?" Kate prodded. "You were saying?"
"Never mind."
"You can't do that. You can't start and not finish."
"You do it all the time," he pointed out.
"Tell me something about yourself. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't walk out the door right now and watch my back where you're concerned."
He couldn't afford to have her walk out the door or start watching her back. He'd have to tell her something, but what?
"Forget it," she said abruptly, reaching for her purse. "I think it's time I went home."
"All right. You win. Put your purse down."
She hesitated, her handbag firmly planted on her lap. "I will after you start talking."
"You know, if you're this demanding on sharing personal information, there may be a reason why you aren't busy on Saturday nights."
"And if you're this secretive, it's no wonder you aren't married or involved in a serious relationship."
"Are we even again?" he asked, feeling ridiculously charged up by their exchange.
"Stalling, stalling, stalling," she said, putting the strap of her purse over one shoulder.
"Fine. What do you want to know?"
"Start with something easy. Tell me about your childhood, your family."
"My family isn't easy."
"Tell me about them anyway. Think of it as a way of gaining my trust. That should give you some motivation."
He debated just how much to tell. Hell, with the way things were going, she probably wouldn't believe him anyway. "Okay. I was born in San Antonio."
"Texas. I knew I heard an accent."
"I lived there until I was twelve. That's when my parents divorced."
"That must have been difficult."
"It was, but it got worse. A few weeks after the separation, my father picked me up from school one day and told me my mother didn't want me anymore. She couldn't handle two boys, and my brother was younger, so I had to go with him. I didn't have a change of clothes or a toothbrush. Or a chance to say good-bye."