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hands in surrender. “You don’t need to explain anything to me. I was serious. It’s good to see a female that doesn’t pick at her food. I ate all of mine as well.”
    He gestured to his empty plates. He’d demolished a fair amount as well, including eggs, bacon, toast, and some granola-yogurt thing with fruit.
    “I guess we both get a sticker for the clean plate club,” she teased with a smile. “I grew up with a brother that ate everything in sight along with all of his friends who would visit the house. If you wanted to eat, you had to be fast.”
    Jason threw back his head and laughed. “It was the same when I was growing up. I have two brothers and one sister, but I also have a bunch of cousins and they practically lived at our house. My poor mother cooked for an army every day of the year. It wasn’t uncommon for her to fix a pound of bacon, a dozen eggs, and a loaf of toast for breakfast, along with a gallon of milk a day.”
    “That sounds about right. My brother Dan is an athlete and his football and baseball buddies were always hanging around the house and eating whatever wasn’t nailed down,” Brinley giggled. “I remember the summer he grew four inches very well. My mom and dad were beside themselves.”
    “I think I did something like that too.” Jason chuckled and signaled the waitress for more coffee. “A house full of teenage boys all the time must have been interesting. I bet more than a few of your brother’s friends had a crush on you.”
    Jason had no idea the wound he was poking at. He was a nice man and wouldn’t have a clue about her upbringing. The waitress refilled their cups and Brinley calmly poured cream and sugar into hers. It hurt to tell the truth but she’d heard that the truth would set her free.
    “Actually, I’m pretty sure none of them did. I was always considered the homely sister in the Snow residence.”
    His jaw went slack and his eyes widened in surprise. “I don’t think there’s anyone that could seriously call you homely. Were you a late bloomer or something?”
    Tracing patterns in some spilled sugar on the formica table, Brinley shook her head. “Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t honestly know. You see, my sister was a beauty queen. She was a Miss Illinois and several other titles I don’t remember. Plus prom queen and homecoming queen, of course.”
    Jason scowled and set his mug back on the table. “Do you mean like ‘All I want is world peace’ kind of beauty queen? That kind?”
    Brinley had to slap her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. “Yes, although the contestants don’t give that answer nearly as much as people think they do.”
    She should know. Her parents had made her sit through every one of Dawn’s pageants.
    “I’m sure you could have won a few if you’d wanted to,” Jason pressed. “You’re a very attractive woman, Brinley.”
    A warm feeling in her abdomen took hold at his sincere words. She’d had few compliments growing up so she appreciated them when they came along. It didn’t hurt that she thought Jason Anderson was pretty dishy as well.
    “Dawn was more than attractive.” Brinley struggled to explain to a stranger who had never met her sister. “She has…charisma. That something that draws people to her. I was pretty ordinary in comparison. My mother said that I was born with the common sense and that Dawn was born with the glamour.”
    *
    Jason had to physically restrain himself from marching out of the pancake house, finding Brinley’s parents wherever they were, and smacking them upside the head. It was clear their words had hurt this sensitive young woman more than she cared to admit.
    Something urged him to reach out and cover her hand with his, so small and soft compared to his own. “I’m from a big family and I know how it can be. One child is the jock. One is the brains. Another is the family clown. Our families put us in these slots and sometimes we get stuck there even in adulthood.”
    “Dawn was