Point of No Return

CHAPTER SIX

It was hard to concentrate on packing. Kade had said we’d be gone for a while, so obviously I needed to take a decent amount of clothes, but all I could see in my head was the way Blane had looked at me when I’d told him I was having Kade’s baby.

I prayed that Kade’s and my departure would help, that being out of sight would make it easier on Blane. But I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t going to miss him.

I was nearly finished when I heard the knock. I dropped the shirt I’d been folding, hurrying to the front door. Hopefully, it was Kade. I’d tried calling him after I’d left Blane’s, but he hadn’t answered and it had been hours since then.

Hastily pulling open the door, my welcoming smile froze when I saw who it was.

Blane.

The expression on his face was stark, his lips set in a grim line. Remembering how he’d demolished the room earlier, I took an instinctive step back, my pulse jumping with nerves, but he made no move toward me.

“I need to talk to you,” he said.

I swallowed. Was he still angry? Kade was supposed to come by and pick me up along with my luggage. It would be bad if he showed up while Blane was still here. I couldn’t handle a confrontation between them.

“Um, I’m kinda in the middle of packing,” I hedged. “Can it wait? I can call you tomorrow.”

At my words, a hint of pity flashed across Blane’s face.

“No, Kat,” he said softly. “It can’t wait.”

Something about the way he said that made the blood drain from my face and I started to shake.

“What happened?” I asked. “Is it Kade? Is he okay?” Panic clawed at me.

Blane hurriedly stepped inside, taking my hand as he shut the door behind him. He led me to the couch and I gratefully sank down onto the cushions when he tugged on me, my knees suddenly weak.

“He’s okay,” Blane said. “Kade’s not hurt.”

His reassurance made the breath leave my lungs in a rush and I slumped over, relieved. I didn’t know what I would’ve done if something had happened to him.

“Kat—” Blane began, then stopped. I glanced up at him. He paused, the look on his face twisting into one of regret. My stomach dropped.

Suddenly, I didn’t want to know, didn’t want to hear whatever it was that Blane couldn’t even bring himself to say. I jumped to my feet.

“I really need to finish packing. Kade’s going to be here any minute and you know how he hates to wait . . .” I babbled, turning and walking back toward the bedroom.

“Kat—”

Blane was following me, but I kept going, not stopping until I was back in front of my suitcase. I grabbed the shirt I’d dropped, my hands trembling as I tried to fold it.

“Do you think Mona would keep Tigger for a while? I don’t know how long we’ll be gone. He didn’t say. But Tigger likes it over there and Mona loves him, so I can’t imagine that she’d mind—”

“Kat!”

I jumped, my mouth snapping shut.

Blane stepped up to me, removing the shirt from my fingers and then taking my hands in his.

“He’s not coming,” Blane said much more gently. “Kade. He left.”

My heart seemed to stutter and my hands turned to ice.

“Wh-what do you mean?” I asked. “Of course he’s coming. He said—”

“He’s not coming,” Blane repeated.

I jerked my hands out of his grip. “Stop saying that! You’re wrong!” I hurried to my bureau, yanking open a drawer and pulling out a handful of shorts. “He’ll be here. Any minute now. He said he’d come.” I avoided looking at Blane as I piled the shorts in the open suitcase sitting on my bed.

Kade wouldn’t leave me. He just . . . wouldn’t.

“He came by the house,” Blane said. “He said . . . he said he was leaving. Alone. And he’s not coming back.”

I let out an involuntary gasp from the pain that lanced through me at Blane’s words. The clothes in my hands dropped to the floor. I turned on Blane.

“Why would you say that!” I screamed at him. “Why are you telling me such . . . such lies!” I spun away, but Blane snagged me around the waist and pulled me into him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking. “Listen to me. He’s gone, and I’m so, so sorry.”

I fought him, pushing and struggling to get away, agony building in my chest while tears poured down my cheeks. Finally, I ran out of fight, of denying what I knew was the truth, and I sagged limply against Blane, my body shaking with sobs I couldn’t control.

Blane’s shirt grew damp, my tears leaking through the starched white cotton, but he kept holding me. His strength was the only thing that kept me on my feet, his arms holding me tight, a hand cradling the back of my head while I cried.

My breath hiccupped in my chest when I finally stopped crying. I felt exhausted, my emotions numb. Kade had left me, didn’t want me. Why? What had I done wrong? He’d seemed so happy when I told him I was pregnant. Had he been lying to me? Or just had second thoughts once I’d left?

I looked up at Blane, needing some kind of answer. “Why?” I managed to ask, my voice a hoarse rasp from crying. “What did I do?”

“Kat, listen to me,” Blane said, his palms cradling my cheeks. “It’s got nothing to do with you. You didn’t do anything. It’s Kade. And I can’t pretend to understand why he does the things he does.”

But Blane was wrong. It had to be me, had to be that I was pregnant. Kade hadn’t really wanted me, or at least not now that I carried his baby. I’d sprung it on him out of nowhere after we’d only slept together a few times. We hadn’t even had an official relationship and I’d tried to tie him to me for life. How could I have expected him to react any differently?

I stepped out of Blane’s arms and he seemed reluctant to let me go. I sank down to sit on the bed, staring straight ahead at nothing. I felt numb.

I was going to have to do this alone. The shock of being pregnant had faded when I’d been with Kade earlier, his open acceptance easing my worry and fears. Now it all came rolling back with a vengeance, and I felt if I even breathed too deep, I’d shatter into a million pieces.

“Kat,” Blane said, crouching down in front of me. He rested his hands on my knees. “Come home with me. Even if it’s just for a few days. I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

Absently, I looked at Blane. The pity in his eyes was almost more than I could bear. I was his ex-girlfriend, pregnant with his brother’s child and abandoned by him. Yet here Blane was, offering me solace and comfort.

But there was no way I could accept. I’d put Blane through enough.

I shook my head. “I’ll be fine on my own.” Somehow.

Disappointment flashed across his face, then was gone. Searching my eyes, he finally gave a nod and stood.

“Did he say where he was going?” I asked, my voice small. “I’m not going to . . . bother him, if that’s what you’re thinking. I just . . . wondered.”

“He didn’t say,” Blane replied.

Tears sparked my eyes again and I couldn’t speak, so I nodded.

“I’ll come by tomorrow,” he promised.

I forced the next words out. “And you’ll call if you . . . hear anything?” The request sounded pathetic, but I couldn’t help it.

A pause. “Yeah. I will.”

Blane bent and I felt his lips brush the top of my head. My eyes slipped closed, more traitorous tears leaking from my eyes. I heard his steps recede, and a moment later the front door opened and shut behind him.

I sat there, the agonizing ache in my chest squeezing my lungs like a vise. I had no thoughts, no plan for what to do other than taking my next breath. It seemed impossible that my heart could still beat when I was in such pain. How was this not killing me?

Kade was gone. I would probably never see him again. Blane hadn’t even sounded like he would see him again, and they were brothers. And worse, Kade didn’t want to see me.

There had to be some mistake. Something had happened. Or maybe he thought I wanted to get married and that had spooked him. If I could just talk to him . . .

I jumped to my feet. I had a key to his apartment. Maybe he wasn’t gone yet.

Grabbing my keys and cell, I hurried to my car, not even stopping to put on shoes. I broke the speed limit on my way to Kade’s apartment, screeching into the parking garage and slamming the car into park. Seconds later, I was jamming my finger repeatedly on the elevator call button.

My hands shook as I unlocked Kade’s door. I pushed it open and stepped inside, flipping on a light switch.

The place looked exactly the same as it had hours earlier, as though Kade had just stepped out. Dishes from breakfast were still in the sink. But I could tell immediately that no one was there. The apartment held an emptiness that I could feel.

Hoping against hope, I ventured farther, back to the bedroom. The bed was unmade, the sheets, blankets, and pillows where we’d left them when Kade and I had climbed from the cottony cocoon earlier. Making my feet move, I went to the closet. Kade’s clothes remained, hung neatly on wooden hangers.

Nothing gave any kind of an impression that Kade had left in a hurry, or permanently. Maybe Blane had been wrong, but then, where was Kade?

Pulling my cell from my pocket, I dialed him.

The number had been disconnected.

My legs wouldn’t hold me anymore and I sank onto the bed. Kade was gone. Really gone. And I knew it, deep down inside, in the place where you just know that the bad thing tearing your life apart is real, and isn’t going away.

Something broke inside me then, though I couldn’t say what it was. After everything, all that had happened, what I’d been through—Kade’s blood on my hands, almost losing him, kidnappings, beatings, too many close brushes with death. All of it had been for nothing.

I was alone and I was having a baby. It terrified me. How was I supposed to raise a child when I didn’t want to face another day?

Sitting with my back to the headboard, I pulled my knees into my chest. I was cold, though it was warm in Kade’s bedroom. I didn’t think, didn’t feel, and didn’t care. I stared at the wall, listening to the deafening silence of the apartment. Kade would come back. He had to. If he didn’t, for the first time in a young life already filled with too many bad things, I didn’t wonder how I’d go on—I wondered if I even wanted to.

My phone was buzzing. I opened my eyes, blinking blearily. Sunlight streamed in the room now. The phone lay on the floor a few feet from me. I vaguely remembered dropping it.

I stared at it until it stopped.

Voices.

I opened my eyes. The room was dark. My body ached from being in the same position for so long. I didn’t care. Then it hit me all over again. Kade was gone. A fresh wave of despair washed over me.

The voices grew closer, but I didn’t care enough to listen. The light flipped on and I winced in the sudden glare.

“Kathleen!”

A woman’s voice. Alisha’s, I thought.

“She’s in here!”

She sounded panicked, and I wanted to tell her that I was okay, but couldn’t summon the energy to speak.

Alisha dropped onto the bed beside me. “Kathleen, we’ve been searching all over for you. God, I was so worried—” She was fighting tears now.

A man’s torso suddenly appeared in my vision, then Alisha moved and he took her spot on the bed.

Blane.

The moment I saw him, tears started leaking from my eyes.

“He’s gone,” I whispered. “He left me. He left the baby. He just . . . left us.”

The look on Blane’s face was stark, then he pulled me close to his chest. “I know,” he said softly, his lips moving against my hair. “But I’ve got you.” He stood, lifting me in his arms. My head was buried against his neck, my tears wetting his skin, as I fisted a handful of his suit coat and held on.

“How did you find me?” I asked later. Blane had taken me to his house and placed me in his bed. I hadn’t protested.

“I stopped by Alisha’s after I left,” Blane said, “asked her to check on you in the morning, but you weren’t there. When you hadn’t come back by the afternoon and didn’t answer your cell, she finally called me.”

My face heated in embarrassment, and I looked away from Blane’s steady gaze. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean for anyone to worry.”

“It’s my fault,” Blane replied, taking my hand in his. “You were in shock and I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

I swallowed hard, tears swimming in my eyes when I looked back at him. “I hate feeling weak,” I whispered.

Pain flashed across his face, then he was moving to lie down beside me and gathering me in his arms.

“You are not weak,” he said fiercely. “Don’t ever think that.”

Blane’s fingers combed lightly through my hair as he cradled me close. I breathed in the warm, familiar scent of him, easing into the strength of his body. I could hide away here, in the circle of his arms, and the pain was a little easier to take.

“Thank you.” My words were a small breath of sound, but I knew Blane heard them.

“I don’t need to be thanked,” he said softly.

I gripped him tighter, my throat closing. We stayed that way for a long time, until I drifted to sleep.

It was the middle of the night when I woke again. Mechanically, I rose and went into the bathroom. My mind started spinning and I had to force myself not to think. I didn’t want to think. If I did, I would feel, and I couldn’t handle the pain. Not yet.

I stepped into the shower, standing under the hot spray of water, and let it wash over me. I scrubbed, rinsing my hair until the strands squeaked. Drying off, I found a toothbrush and brushed my teeth, then wrapped myself in Blane’s rarely used robe that hung on the back of the door.

When I emerged from the bathroom, I could see Blane was sitting on the side of the bed. He’d changed into pajama pants, his shirt discarded. The soft glow of the bathroom light illuminated him when he glanced up at me. He stood as I approached.

“Feel better?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Yeah. I guess.”

“You didn’t brush your hair,” he said.

I shrugged again, not caring about my tangled hair.

Blane moved past me into the bathroom, returning in a moment with a brush in his hand.

“Sit down,” he said.

I climbed into the bed, sitting cross-legged while he knelt behind me. In a moment, I felt the bristles gently pull through my wet hair.

It was a scene oddly reminiscent of that night so many months ago, when Blane had brushed my hair while we sat in my bed. He was just as gentle now as he had been then, easing through the tangles he encountered.

The huge gaping hole inside my chest didn’t seem like it was going to consume me, not with Blane there.

When he was finished, he set the brush aside and helped me under the covers, tucking them around my body, then he turned away.

I caught at his hand. “Where are you going?”

“I’ll sleep in the other room,” he said, giving my hand a squeeze.

Disappointment flooded me, but I understood. What, was I going to ask him to sleep in his own bed with me when I’d rejected him for his brother? Was I that selfish?

I bit my lip to keep from saying anything and just nodded, lowering my hand.

Blane seemed to hesitate. “Did you want me to stay?”

Our eyes met. “Only if you want to,” I said.

He gave a small nod, then went and switched off the bathroom light, plunging the room back into darkness. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust, but Blane didn’t seem to have a problem navigating his way back to the bed. He pulled back the covers and the bed dipped from his weight.

Blane’s arm rested in the curve of my waist, drawing me back against him spoon fashion. I felt small next to his bulk, and my body relaxed.

When I woke again, the sun was up and Blane was no longer in bed with me.

I sat up, hearing the sound of his razor coming from the bathroom. The robe I’d been wearing was all askew and I rearranged it.

The heavy weight pressing on my chest wasn’t any lighter, but at least I felt I could stand again. Even if it was inch by inch, I had to keep going. Having another breakdown wasn’t an option. Even now, my face burned with embarrassment at what I’d put Alisha and Blane through. I needed to call her later, to apologize and thank her.

The razor stopped and I heard the sound of water running. After a moment, Blane stepped out of the bathroom. He was shirtless and barefoot, wearing just a pair of gym shorts. I thought he must have worked out earlier, when I’d been sleeping.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“A little after ten,” he answered, walking over to me. “You need to eat something.”

“I know.” I looked up at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“The police finally released Kandi’s body. The funeral is today,” he said.

My eyes widened. “Are you going?”

He nodded.

“Alone?”

“Mona and Gerard will be there,” he said, heading to his closet.

I hesitated. “Do you want me to go with you?”

Blane paused from sorting through his dress shirts. “You would?”

“Of course,” I said. “I mean, I don’t want to intrude—”

“You’re not an intrusion,” Blane cut me off.

“Then I’ll go get ready.” I climbed out of the bed, trying to ignore the way Blane’s gaze dropped to the length of thigh I’d unwittingly exposed.

An hour later, I’d forced down a bagel that Mona had brought me—my stomach was still not feeling normal and I didn’t know if the nausea was from the pregnancy, Kade leaving me, or a combination of the two. I’d pulled on a black sleeveless dress and black heels, pinning my hair up into a French twist.

Checking myself over in the mirror, I frowned at the drawn, pinched look to my face. The shadows under my puffy eyes were immune to makeup. An oversized pair of black sunglasses would help that, though.

My gaze caught on the gold heart-shaped locket that hung between my breasts. Kade had given it to me at Christmas. I’d said that the reason I’d hardly taken it off since was because it held a photo of my parents, but I was through lying to myself.

I kept it on because Kade had given it to me.

Lifting my hands to the catch, I hesitated, then lowered my arms. I couldn’t take it off. I knew I should, but not yet. I wasn’t ready.

My stomach knotted and I thought the bagel was going to make a reappearance. I grabbed the bedpost to steady myself as a wave of anguish rolled over me.

Kade was gone, and this time he wasn’t coming back.

That black hole threatened to engulf me and it felt like I couldn’t breathe. I was pregnant, with the baby of a man who’d lied to me, then walked out on me.

What was I going to do? I was a bartender with no money, no family. School was out of the question now—no way could I afford an education and a baby. Who would take care of it while I worked? I could barely feed myself, so how was I supposed to feed a baby?

I couldn’t breathe, the air choking in my lungs. Black spots danced in front of my eyes as I clutched the bedpost.

“It’s okay. Kat, it’s okay. Just breathe. Look at me.”

Blane’s hand under my chin forced my head up until I met his green gaze.

“Breathe, okay? Look at me. Breathe.” Blane gently pried my hand from its vise grip on the bedpost, moving it to his shoulder. “Hold on to me, okay?”

My hand fisted the black suit coat he wore, and I focused with difficulty on the rhythm of his breathing, forcing myself to echo it. Gradually, the spots cleared, the weight against my chest easing.

Blane’s face was grim, his mouth set in a tight line. “You need to lie down,” he said.

“No, I’m fine,” I protested, resisting his tug on me. “We’ve got to go, right? Can’t be late.”

His brows furrowed. “Maybe it’s not a good idea for you to come.”

“I’m fine,” I said again, my voice stronger this time. “I just . . . had a moment, that’s all. It’s been a rough few days. Let’s just go.”

I grabbed my purse off the bureau and headed for the door, feeling Blane’s eyes on me, but he didn’t say anything more and followed me.

It was sunny outside and I dug my sunglasses from my purse. Blane held the door of the Jaguar for me and I slipped inside. A moment later, we were heading north on Meridian.

“You want to tell me what the panic attack was for?” Blane asked.

I glanced at him. Sunglasses hid his eyes, but the hard set of his jaw raised a red flag.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s just a little . . . overwhelming.”

“I’m not mad,” Blane clarified. “But if you’re panicking because you think you’re alone, you’re not. You have me.”

I shook my head, turning to stare out the window. “I’m not going to do that to you, Blane,” I said. “You deserve better. I’ll be fine on my own. I just need a plan, that’s all.”

Blane pulled into the cemetery, finding a place to park among the cars already there. Once he had, he turned to face me.

“I don’t want you on your own. I want you with me.”

Stunned, I didn’t have an opportunity to reply before he was out of the car, rounding to my side and pulling open my door.

There were people walking by, also clad in black, so I refrained from saying anything as I got out of the car. Blane offered his arm and we walked up a sloping hill to where a large number of people were gathered.

We stayed toward the back and a little bit apart from the others. Though Blane had been cleared in Kandi’s murder—the real killer had confessed and was now behind bars—I could tell he was trying not to draw any attention to us.

Another freshly dug grave was nearby, and I realized it was for Kandi’s father. I couldn’t feel remorse for his death. He’d tried to kill Blane, had nearly killed Kade instead.

The service started, though we were too far away to hear the words spoken. After a while, someone began playing a melody on a flute. It sounded ethereal and lonely, a stark contrast to the sunny day and the flowers that dotted the lush, green landscape. Members of Kandi’s extended family passed by the casket, placing pink roses on top.

Blane stood stiffly beside me and I reached for his hand, lacing our fingers together. He said nothing, but his grip was tight.

When the service was over, we turned to go, but someone blocked our path.

“You’ve got some balls, Kirk, showing your face here.”

I sucked in a breath. It was James. He was also dressed in a black suit, and he looked livid.

“I’ve known Kandi all her life,” Blane said evenly.

“It’s because of you that she’s dead,” James spat.

Blane gripped my hand so tight it hurt. “Every time I speak to you, I find fewer and fewer reasons for you not to be in a grave, Gage.”

“Speaking of which, so sorry to hear about your buddy Dennon getting shot,” James retorted in mock sympathy. “Was a close call, wasn’t it?”

Blane lunged and I shoved myself between them. “No, Blane!” I said, trying to push him back. It was like trying to move granite. “Not here!”

“Better listen to her,” James sneered. “Tell me, does she screw both of you at once, or does Dennon fuck you in the ass while she watches?”

I spun around, my fist coming up and crashing into James’s nose. There was a crunching sound, a look of shock on James’s face, then blood began pouring. He stumbled back, his hands flying up to cover his nose.

Blane grabbed my arm and hauled me none too gently back to the car, moving so fast I had to run to keep up. In no time flat, we were in the Jaguar and speeding away from the cemetery.

I glanced at Blane, trying to read his expression. Shit. He was pissed.

“Listen, Blane—” I began, wanting to apologize. Well, not really. James had deserved it. Maybe I couldn’t shoot him, but apparently I had no qualms about punching him. Yet I’d made a scene at Kandi’s funeral and that was just wrong.

“That was fucking incredible,” Blane interrupted. “You’ve got one helluva right hook, Kat.” He shot me a grin.

I laughed, relieved he wasn’t angry.

“So were you defending my honor?” he teased.

I thought about it. “I guess so.” Huh. “James is disgusting,” I said. “He deserved it.” And now maybe he’d finally leave me alone.

“Couldn’t agree more,” Blane said. “How’s the hand?”

I realized that my hand was killing me. “Hurts like hell,” I said. “But worth it.”

Blane drove us back to his house, opening the car door for me when we arrived. His hand settled on my waist as we walked up the drive.

He led me to the den, then went to the kitchen. When he reappeared, he was carrying an ice pack wrapped in a thin dish towel.

“Come sit down,” he said, and I perched next to him on the sofa. He took my hand, gently laying the ice on my aching knuckles. I hissed a breath. I’d seriously have to rethink it if I ever wanted to punch someone in the nose again.

Blane raised his head and our gazes met, his eyes a stormy gray, the green mere flecks now. The black suit he wore was expertly tailored, like all his suits, encasing his wide shoulders in the expensive fabric. He still wore his tie, silver-and-black-striped silk knotted perfectly at his throat. His blond hair didn’t have a strand out of place. He was so perfect, I was momentarily without words as I studied him. When had I started seeing Blane as ordinary? When had I begun taking him for granted?

Discarding his jacket and tie, he crouched down to remove my heels, then sat next to me on the sofa. Wrapping an arm around my shoulders, he drew me toward him until I was nestled comfortably against his chest.

Blane reached for the remote and flipped on the television, clicking through the channels until he hit a movie. We’d both seen it already, but it was one of those you can watch again and again and still enjoy it. My knuckles were numb now, which was better than how they’d felt before, and I set aside the ice pack. Blane’s fingers combed idly through my hair as we sat comfortably in silence, watching TV. I tucked my legs beneath me on the sofa, releasing a deep sigh. My eyelids grew heavy.

I woke slowly, too comfortable to jerk awake. I’d slid down and now my head rested on Blane’s lap. The television was muted and I saw that the movie was over, something else now playing. It was dark outside and I realized I’d slept for a while.

Blane’s hand rested in the curve of my waist and I twisted a little to see his elbow braced on the arm of the sofa. He’d been staring off into space, but now glanced down at me, his lips tipping up in a tiny smile.

“Feel better?” he asked. His hand stroked a stray lock of hair back from my face, then rested lightly on my head.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep,” I said, moving to sit up. I was a little embarrassed to have used him like a pillow.

“It’s fine,” Blane said, pressing lightly on my stomach to still me. I looked up at him. “You’ve been exhausted the past few weeks,” he said. “You deserved a nap.”

My stomach chose then to complain loudly that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. My face got red and I groaned with embarrassment. “Sorry,” I muttered.

But Blane only chuckled. “Sounds like it’s time for dinner,” he teased. “Why don’t you go freshen up and then meet me in the kitchen?”

I nodded. “Okay.”

I changed out of the dress I’d worn to the funeral, pulling on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, which were much more comfortable. I washed off my makeup and ran a brush through my hair, then headed back downstairs.

I expected to see Mona and Gerard in the kitchen with Blane, but it was just him.

“Where’s Mona?” I asked.

Blane was chopping vegetables on a cutting board.

“It’s their anniversary,” Blane explained. “Gerard took her to dinner to celebrate.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, can I help?” My cooking skills were notoriously lacking, which Blane was quite aware of, though he’d never seemed to mind.

Blane set down the knife and wiped his hands on a dish towel. “Yes, you can,” he said. Then he grabbed me around the waist, picked me up, and set me on the counter. “You can keep me company.” His gray eyes twinkled at me.

I laughed. “I get it. I wouldn’t want me around a hot stove, either.”

Tigger nosed around Blane’s legs, probably hoping for something to drop, while Blane resumed chopping vegetables. A pot of water was boiling on the stove.

Blane had fixed dinner for me a few times before, though it was rare. He usually came home from work between six and seven, and if Mona was off for the evening, it was just easier to go out. His days at the office were often ten hours or more, so I could see why he wouldn’t want to cook dinner when he got home.

“What are you making?” I asked, watching his hands deftly use the long, sharp knife.

“Pasta primavera,” he replied. “Thought you could use something healthy.”

His thoughtfulness made me smile. He glanced at me.

“What?” he asked. “Do I look funny chopping zucchini?”

I laughed. “No. I was just thinking how different you are from what I’d first imagined you to be.”

“Oh no, here we go,” he said with a grin. “Dare I ask?”

“All the girls at the office are in love with you,” I teased. “They like to watch how you move.”

“How I move?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Yeah. They’d watch you walk across the lobby to the elevator. It was like a morning ritual. Then we’d all discuss what suit you were wearing that day. We named them, you know, kind of like how Elvis named his suits.”

Blane stopped chopping. “You named them?”

“Well, not me personally,” I said. “It was kind of a . . . group activity.”

Blane frowned. “I have over two dozen suits,” he said.

“I know.” I nodded sagely. “It was a very serious endeavor, especially if you were in a hurry and we didn’t get that good of a look.”

Blane shook his head as he again resumed chopping. “So now I’m curious. What were some of the names?”

“Okay, I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to let on that you know,” I said, pointing sternly at him.

Blane stopped again and just looked at me.

“I mean it,” I insisted. “I’m breaking the Woman Code by telling you any of this.”

He snorted. “Fine. I promise I won’t tell anyone that you broke The Code.”

I grinned. “Okay, well, you know the gray pinstripe? I think it’s Dolce and Gabbana?”

He nodded. “The wool and silk one? Yeah.”

“Well, that one’s called Coming for You.”

“That’s not too bad,” Blane said. “I expected worse.”

I hid a grin. “That Armani light-gray stripe?” Blane nodded. “That’s FML.”

“Fuck My Life?” Blane asked.

“Nope. Fuck Me Later.”

His brows rose and his lips twisted. “I see.”

“And let’s not forget one of my favorites,” I continued. “The double-breasted three-piece Tom Ford. The one that’s so dark gray it’s nearly black? Yeah, that one’s called The Panty Dropper.” I giggled. It was funny and ridiculous to be telling him these things.

Blane shook his head, but he was smiling, too. He dumped a box of pasta in the water, then put a big cookie sheet filled with chopped veggies in the oven and set the timer before heading my way. Reaching around me, he grabbed a bottle of wine that he’d opened. He was very close for a moment and I breathed in the scent of his cologne.

Refilling his glass, Blane said, “So did you ever name one of my suits?”

The heat flooding my cheeks gave me away before I could say a word. Blane chuckled. “Okay. Give. Which one and what’s the name?”

Although I knew I shouldn’t answer, I found myself saying, “The single-breasted charcoal Tom Ford.”

Blane gave a slow nod, his gaze turning calculating. “I wore that suit the first time I kissed you.”

As if I needed reminding. “Yeah, I named that one.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “And?”

I hesitated. “I called it Leave Me Breathless.” Which actually was exactly how I felt at the moment.

Blane took a slow drink of wine, his eyes still locked on mine. “So tell me something,” he said at last.

I raised my eyebrows in silent question.

“The night Sheila died, the night I stayed with you in your apartment, you had a nightmare, remember?”

I nodded. I remembered that night vividly, not only because of Sheila’s horrible death but also because of Blane’s comforting presence.

Blane leaned one hip against the counter next to me. “So the next morning, when we woke . . .”

My pulse sped up. That morning was burned in my memory. Blane’s eyes were a stormy gray and I couldn’t look away from them.

“. . . I had my arm around you,” he continued, his voice lowering. “And I was touching you. You didn’t fight me, didn’t tell me no, and I always wondered if it was because you were scared, or if you thought you owed me something—that I was your boss, something like that. Or if you didn’t say anything . . . because you didn’t want me to stop.”

Memories came flooding back, making my heart twist inside my chest.

“I’ve always wondered,” Blane said with a soft smile and a shrug. “Thought maybe you might put my curiosity to rest.”

I swallowed before answering. “I was scared, a little,” I admitted. “But mostly . . . I didn’t want you to stop.”

The air was thick in my lungs and neither of us moved. With me on the counter, we were the same height, and he’d moved closer. His gaze dropped to my lips and my mouth went dry.

The oven timer buzzed, shattering the spell woven around us. I jerked back, tearing my eyes away from him.

Blane. More potent and dangerous than the most addictive drug. The pull between the two of us was still there, no matter how heartbroken I was over Kade leaving.

Kade.

The thought of him was like a bleak cloud settling over me and I didn’t say much as we sat down to dinner. Blane was a good cook and I was ravenous, a combination that meant I cleaned my plate and snuck another helping. Okay, two more helpings, but they were on the smallish side.

I wanted to do the dishes, but Blane insisted on doing them himself. A bath sounded really nice, so I asked Blane if I could use the tub in his bathroom, since it was way bigger than the one in mine.

“You don’t have to ask,” he chided me. “What’s mine is yours.”

His matter-of-factness brought a lump to my throat. Whatever mistakes Blane had made in the past, he’d more than made up for them since.

I almost fell asleep in the bathtub, I was so relaxed. Only when my fingers and toes began to wrinkle did I finally get out. I dried off and pulled on the white nightgown I always wore, brushing my hair and leaving it to trail wetly down my back.

When I came out of the bathroom, I saw Blane with his back to me as he took off his shirt. He peeled off the white linen dress shirt, then pulled the T-shirt he wore underneath over his head. The muscles in his back and arms flexed as he moved, rippling beneath perfect golden skin. I saw his hands move down to the front of his slacks.

I must have made a noise, because he turned suddenly.

“I-I’m sorry,” I said, hastily averting my eyes from his very naked chest. “I’m done in the bathroom.” No kidding, really? Nothing like stating the obvious. I headed for the door.

“Wait, Kat, where are you going?” Blane latched onto my wrist.

I turned, only to see his chest mere inches away. I gulped, then forced my gaze upward. He was frowning.

“If you’re not tired, we can go watch another movie,” Blane said. “Or I can find you a book to read or something. Whatever you want.”

I cleared my throat nervously. “I was just going to bed,” I said, my voice much too quiet.

Blane looked slightly hurt. “Oh. I thought—I just assumed—you’d stay in here with me.”

My eyes widened. Last night had been one thing. I’d been upset, still reeling from what Kade had done. To stay with Blane another night seemed . . . wrong. And yet, the look on his face had guilt crawling inside me.

“Unless you don’t want to,” Blane added, his expression shuttered.

“No, that’d be . . . nice,” I said, and it was worth it to see Blane’s face smooth into a smile.

I headed for the bed, crawling underneath the covers. My nerves were jangling. I was too raw, too vulnerable to share a bed with Blane, and I knew it. I was deeply worried I’d do something I’d regret, but it didn’t seem I had a choice. I didn’t want to hurt Blane.

Blane switched off the light and I heard the rustle of clothing before he slid into bed. I was firmly on “my” side, though Blane took up his own space and then some.

I lay stiffly on my back, staring up at the black ceiling. My feelings were in a turmoil. I missed Kade so much, his absence was a physical ache, yet Blane’s presence next to me was deeply comforting, easing the pain inside. The future scared me and I couldn’t see what I was going to do, where I’d go from here.

Blane turned on his side to face me and I felt his hand settle over mine in the space between us. I closed my eyes as a tear tracked down my cheek to the pillow beneath my head. His kindness was sweet. Unexpected.

“Will you tell me more of the suit names tomorrow?” Blane asked, his voice quiet in the dark.

I smiled in spite of myself. “I’ve already broken The Code, so I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

Blane’s soft laugh sent a shiver through me, which was bad-bad-bad.

“Good night, Kat,” he said.

“Night, Blane,” I replied, relieved that he wasn’t going to try and pull me closer, which then made me feel guilty. Despite my heartache and guilt, I drifted to sleep.

It was still dark when I woke, and it didn’t take me long to realize I was sprawled nearly on top of Blane. One of my legs was lying between his, my head and torso resting on his chest while his arm curved around me.

Blane was only wearing a pair of boxer briefs. My nightgown had ridden up and the skin of his legs was warm against mine. I could tell that even if he was still asleep, his body was very much awake.

Heat shot through me, pure hormones laying waste to logic and common sense, and I lay utterly still. I took a deep breath to get myself under control, then found my breath robbed as Blane’s mouth covered mine.

It was sudden and overwhelming, and it was like setting a match to tinder. His fingers were buried in my hair, holding my head as his tongue stroked mine. The desperate urgency in his kiss drove every thought out of my head. I couldn’t see anything—the room was too dark—and all I could do was feel. His mouth and hands were everywhere, dragging my nightgown over my head and turning me onto my back.

Blane’s erection pressed between my thighs and I moaned into his mouth. His lips and tongue moved to my breasts. My fingernails dug into his shoulders, my heart racing as my body instinctively responded to Blane’s touch. It had been a long time, but not so long that our bodies didn’t recognize the other’s in the dark. Blane’s touch and kiss were dragging me down a familiar path of desire and want.

His hand moved between my legs, sliding under the satin of my panties to slip between my folds. I gasped as he stroked me, the wetness he found betraying my arousal. It wasn’t until he pushed a thick finger inside me that reality intruded.

Oh God. This was going to happen. If I didn’t do something, Blane was going to make love to me right here, right now. It was so wrong that we were doing this—so wrong that a part of me wanted it, but I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to live with myself afterward.

“No, Blane, wait!” I said, reaching down to grasp his wrist.

The thrust of his finger paused immediately, though still inside me, curved and leisurely stroking a spot that made my legs tremble and had me biting back another moan. Blane kissed his way from my breasts up to my mouth.

“What is it, Kat?” he asked, his lips moving against my skin.

“We can’t do this,” I gasped, straining to keep hold of my thoughts against the raging tide of desire. “I can’t do this.”

He stilled.

“I’m sorry,” I babbled. “I’m horrible—I know I am. Forgive me, but I just . . . I can’t do this.” I was up and out of the bed like a shot, stumbling for the door. Somehow I made it to my room. I dug for a T-shirt in the bureau and pulled it on over my head. My stomach ached and my heart hurt, not to mention my conscience, which was taking a painful self-flagellation while my hormones were throwing one hell of a temper tantrum.

Blane didn’t follow me, which I thought was a good thing overall, though I fiercely missed his presence and my body craved his touch.

I lay under the covers and stared out the window for hours, unable to sleep, until the room was flooded with early sunlight. I dreaded facing Blane and had no idea what I was going to say to him—or why he’d done what he had. I’d told him how I felt, that he and I were over. Did he think we’d work it out now that Kade was out of the picture? Is that what I wanted?

I loved Blane and I wasn’t going to kid myself into thinking that we couldn’t have what we’d once had, given enough time. He was a good man—a decent, honorable man—who loved me. We’d had our problems, but if last night was any indication, I had it in me to fall back in love with him.

But I was having a baby . . . and it wasn’t Blane’s. That changed everything.

Once I was dressed and as ready to face Blane as I’d ever be, I headed downstairs. As I’d expected, he was in the den. He looked up when I cautiously knocked on the partially open door.

“Come in,” he said, beckoning me. He was dressed in jeans that hugged his hips and a steel-gray button-down shirt that matched his eyes. The cuffs were turned back and his hair was still slightly damp from the shower. “We need to talk,” he said.

I bit my lower lip, my knees practically knocking together. Was he mad at me?

“I’m really sorry,” I managed. “About last night—”

“This isn’t about that,” Blane interrupted. “Well, maybe it is, but not directly.”

“Okay.” My nerves started jangling at that. God, what else did he have to tell me? Had Kade called? Based on Blane’s tone, whatever he had to say couldn’t be good. “Then what do you want to talk about?” I asked.

“The future,” he said simply.

My breath caught and my eyes widened. I couldn’t do this right now. I’d just gotten my equilibrium back yesterday, after my panic attack. If I started thinking about everything, I might fall to pieces again—and I didn’t want Blane to see me like that. It was bad enough that he’d already seen me fall apart more than once.

“I don’t know—”

“Just hear me out,” Blane interrupted. “I know you’re worried. I know you’re scared. But you don’t have to be.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” I replied softly.

“Kade didn’t leave you empty-handed,” he said.

I frowned and my stomach lurched. “What do you mean? Have you heard from him?”

“No, but he left this for you.” Blane slipped his hand into his jeans pocket. He removed a piece of paper and handed it to me. It had a bunch of numbers scrawled on it.

“What’s this?” I asked, confused.

“It’s the number of an account in Cayman National, a bank in Grand Cayman. It’s your account now. I checked it. Kade put ten million dollars in it for you.”

I nearly choked, shock hitting me hard. I stared at Blane, my jaw agape.

“He didn’t want you to have to worry about money,” Blane continued.

The ache in my chest was back, slicing through wounds that had only just stopped bleeding. Kade would give me a fortune, money he’d sold his soul to acquire, but he wouldn’t give me himself.

“So, I guess that’s the Kade-equivalent of leaving some money on the bedside table.” Bitterness edged my voice. “I don’t want his money.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Blane said. “You need it. The baby needs it.”

That shut me up. I’d been trying not to think of that word. Baby. It was easier, less personal, for me to just think pregnant.

“Oh God.” I sank onto the sofa, my elbows resting on my thighs as I covered my face. I couldn’t look at him. Kade’s acceptance had helped me hold my head up when I’d had to tell Blane. But his leaving had me feeling ashamed. Embarrassed. Rejected.

“Hey,” Blane said softly, prying my hands away from my face. “I told you that you’re not alone, and I meant it.”

I made myself look at him.

“I love you, and this baby shares my blood, too.” His hand lifted to cup my cheek. “Stay with me. Marry me. You loved me once, you can love me again. I promise that I will never leave you. We’ll be together. Always.”

I was speechless. The enormity of what Blane was offering overwhelmed me. Safety. Security. His name. His love.

Blane slowly leaned forward, his gaze dropping. I had plenty of time to move away, but I didn’t. His mouth met mine with a tender reverence that made my heart skip a beat. His lips moved coaxingly and his tongue softly brushed mine. His hands curved around the back of my neck, his fingers buried in my hair.

I pulled back, my emotions chaotic and my thoughts in a turmoil.

“I made a promise to Kade,” Blane said, resting his forehead against mine. “When he was shot. I promised that if something happened to him, I’d take care of you. And I want to. God, I want to.”

I jerked away, my eyes wide. “You made a promise?” I repeated in disbelief.

I stood and started pacing. “Don’t you see how messed up this is?” I asked, an edge of hysteria in my voice. I gripped the sides of my head in frustration.

“Why is my making a promise so ‘messed up’?” Blane had risen, and he approached me without making a sound.

“I don’t believe you, Blane,” I said baldly. “I can’t.”

“You don’t believe that I love you?” Blane’s expression was forbidding, his jaw clenched tight. “You think I’d say that to just anyone?”

“Blane, your sense of duty, of honor, is such that I wonder if you even know if you really love me,” I said sadly. “And I can’t do this anymore, to either of us.”

“What do you mean?” he rasped.

“I can’t hurt you like this!” I cried, tears streaming unheeded from my eyes. “I’m in love with Kade. I’m having his baby. You don’t deserve that! And my staying around is only going to hold you back.”

He stiffened, his eyes narrowing. “What do you mean?”

The words were nearly impossible to get out. “I mean I’ve got to let you go.”

Blane said nothing, but his face grew pale.

“It’s not fair to you,” I managed to say through my tears, “for me to keep holding on, keep needing you. You have to get on with your life.” I swallowed. “And so do I.”

I turned away, moving to grab my purse, but Blane was there in an instant, blocking me. His hands pressed against my cheeks, his fingers tangled in my hair as he forced me to look at him.

“Don’t go,” he said desperately. “Please—” His voice broke. “Kat, I’ve never begged a woman. Ever. But I’m begging you. Stay. For me. Please stay.” Blane’s eyes were a brilliant green.

“You’re a good man, Blane Kirk,” I whispered through my tears. “You mean so much to me. Which is why I can’t.” I placed my hand over his, turning my face to press my lips against his palm.

This time, he didn’t try to stop me when I turned and walked out the door.

Driving away from Blane’s house was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do, and tears I couldn’t control blurred the streets as I drove. Everything in me screamed for me to turn around and go back to Blane, but I knew I couldn’t.

Somehow, I made it home. I was fumbling with my keys to unlock my door when Alisha’s door flew open.

“Kathleen! I’ve been so worried!” She launched herself at me, wrapping me in a huge hug.

“I’m sorry,” I said, hugging her back. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

Letting me go, Alisha stepped back, scrutinizing me. “What else happened?” she asked.

I shook my head. “I’ve laid enough on you lately,” I said. “I’m sure you’re sick of hearing about it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said with a snort, grabbing my arm and hauling me into her apartment. “Sit down and tell me all about it.”

So I sat, and I told her what had happened. How I’d told Kade everything and how at first he’d reacted so great, but then he’d flipped out, or so I guessed, and left town. That Blane had taken me back to his place once they’d found me in Kade’s apartment, ending with what Blane had offered tonight.

“But I can’t do that,” I finished with a sigh. “Marry Blane and have another man’s child? That’s insane.”

Alisha didn’t say anything, just kind of squirmed.

“Right?” I persisted.

“Well . . .” she hedged.

“You’ve got to be joking. You can’t stand Blane. Now you think I should marry him?”

“It’s just that he was so worried about you,” she said plaintively. “He came by, told me how upset you were, and wanted me to go check on you in the morning. Then you didn’t answer your door, or your phone, and finally, I didn’t know what to do but call him. I think he was in court, because his secretary had to go to the courthouse to get him.”

Oh no. Blane had left court because of my drama? Now I had guilt as well as embarrassment.

“He was frantic, Kathleen,” she continued. “I know I haven’t been Blane’s biggest fan, but I thought he was going to tear this town apart, looking for you.”

I didn’t know what to say, which didn’t matter because Alisha kept talking, now going on a rant about Kade.

“. . . can’t believe he’d be such a shit about it,” she said, irritated. Getting up from the couch, she grabbed a cloth and started furiously dusting her already immaculate furniture. “Did he even have the decency to tell you to your face?”

I shook my head. “No.”

Her rag moved faster. “Of course not! Men are such assholes,” she groused. “I mean, don’t you think that was a total asshole thing to do? And since when is he such a coward?”

I couldn’t disagree.

“So what are you going to do?” she asked.

I folded my arms across my stomach. It was still hard for me to imagine, to wrap my head around that I was going to have a baby. I’d have someone of my very own to love and take care of. Would the baby be a girl with my color hair? Or a boy with eyes like his father’s?

And it suddenly struck me: I wouldn’t be alone anymore. I’d have a family.

And I knew what I had to do.

I was packed and loading my car by the time dawn rolled around. Alisha carried down Tigger in his pet carrier. He was none too happy, meowing pitifully the entire way. Bits followed her, whining as he tried to jump up on his little legs to help his friend.

“That’s all of it,” she said, setting Tigger in the passenger seat of my car. She closed the door on his complaining. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked.

We’d talked for hours last night, once I’d decided that I’d be leaving Indy. Alisha had thrown every argument she could think of at me, but in the end, she hadn’t been able to dissuade me. We hovered at the door to my Toyota Corolla.

“I am,” I said. “It’s barely thirty miles from here. You can come see me anytime, and I’ll come visit, too.”

“What about your job?”

“I worked ten days straight. I’m off for the next four. Romeo should be able to find a replacement by then.”

“And what are you going to do about money?” she persisted.

“I have the money Kade gave me for that job in Vegas,” I said, pushing aside the thought of the millions he’d left for me in Grand Cayman as well. I wasn’t touching that, not unless it was absolutely necessary. “And I’ll get another job.”

Alisha still looked worried, so I hugged her. “Thank you for being such a good friend,” I said. Both of us were teary when I let go.

“I’ll be back in a few weeks to get the rest of my things,” I reminded her. “The lease on my apartment isn’t up for another two months. I’ll see you again soon.” I slid behind the wheel and shut the door.

Alisha leaned through the open window. “And you’re sure you don’t want to tell Blane about this?”

My gut clenched at the mere mention of his name. I shook my head. “Not right now. I just need some time. Some space. If he asks, don’t tell him where I’ve gone, okay? I’ll get in touch with him at some point. The baby’s related to him, after all.”

Alisha didn’t look happy, but she nodded in agreement. “I won’t tell him.”

We hugged through the open window one more time, then I started the car and backed up. Smiling, I waved at Alisha as I pulled out of the lot.

I heaved a sigh that felt like it came all the way from my toes as I drove down the highway. I was heading home.