It was quiet for a few minutes, each of us seeming lost in our own thoughts. The breeze rustled the leaves on the trees. I could so take a nap right there. My eyes had just drifted closed when Blane spoke.
“I’ve decided to pull out of the governor’s race.”
My eyes shot open and I twisted so I could see him. “What?” Surely I’d misheard.
“I’m dropping out,” Blane repeated, discarding his sunglasses.
“But . . . but why?” I stammered, stunned. “You’ve been working for this for years. Why would you drop out?”
“I told you before that I wasn’t sure I wanted it anymore,” he said. “Kade getting hurt, losing you. It just showed me how badly I’d prioritized the things in my life, people in my life.” He paused. “Plus I want to break from my uncle. He has a lot to answer for.”
I couldn’t disagree. Keaston and his interference had nearly cost both Kade and me our lives.
“So what are you going to do?” I asked.
“In my career or about my uncle?”
“Both.”
“I’ll keep practicing for now. I might run for office again someday, maybe. It’s all well and good to have ambitions and success, it just took me a while to realize that they don’t mean anything if I don’t have someone to share it with.” His eyes were on mine as he said this, and I had to glance away.
“And your uncle?” I asked, not wanting to address the implication in his words.
Blane sat up, bending one leg to hook an elbow over his knee. He stared into the distance. “When I think about what he did, how Kade could’ve died. How I might not have gotten to you in time, nearly didn’t. I want to kill him.” He gave a bark of bitter laughter. “My own uncle. I’ve idolized him since I was a boy. To find out that he betrayed me, hurt me, all for his aspirations for my career . . .” He shook his head as though he still had trouble wrapping his mind around it.
The nearly palpable anger and pain emanating from Blane struck a sympathetic chord in me. I reached over, grasping his hand that rested on the blanket between us. He lifted his head and his eyes were a brilliant green as they searched mine.
“I’m sorry, Kat,” he said. “You tried to tell me, and I didn’t listen. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for everything that’s happened to you . . . because of me.” His lips twisted in a parody of a smile. “Ironic, isn’t it? I turned out to be the worst thing that ever happened to you.”
“Don’t say that!” I sat up, quickly moving to kneel beside him. “That’s not true,” I said.
Blane shook his head slightly, glancing away, and I knew he didn’t believe me.
I cupped his cheek in my hand, forcing him to look at me. “That’s not true,” I repeated. “I wouldn’t trade the time we had together for anything. If I knew then what I know now, I’d still have gotten in your car that night.” And I meant it.
Blane searched my eyes. He leaned forward and I knew what was coming, but I didn’t pull away. His hand curved behind my neck and his mouth met mine.
It was as sweet and tentative as a first kiss. His lips were soft and coaxing, the gentle brush of his tongue against the seam of my lips a silent request I couldn’t resist. He deepened the kiss, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me into his lap until I was cradled in both arms, my body wedged between his chest and his bent knees.
He didn’t try anything more or attempt to take things further. He just . . . kissed me. Gradually, I relaxed against him, my body pliant and clinging to his.
I lost track of time and when Blane finally lifted his head, I was languid with desire. Our faces were inches apart and Blane just looked at me, his hand cupping my cheek. His eyes were a beautiful, deep green, the gray nearly invisible now.
“I love how your eyes do that,” I murmured.
His lips twitched. “Do what?” His thumb brushed my cheekbone and I could feel the beat of his heart against my ribs.
“One minute, they’re gray like an oncoming storm,” I said. “The next, they’re the vibrant green of spring grass.”
Blane didn’t reply. I didn’t think he much cared about the color of his eyes. He seemed as though he were memorizing my face, his gaze drifting from my brow to my cheek, my nose, my lips and chin. His thumb brushed my lower lip and he leaned down, pressing a tender, chaste kiss to my mouth.
“You should probably get back to work,” I said. I lifted my hand, unable to resist the temptation to push my fingers through his hair. The blond locks always fell perfectly back into place, no matter what I did. It made me smile. That was Blane. Unruffled and in control. Always.
“I don’t want to,” he said, making me smile even wider.
“I doubt your clients would approve,” I teased. “Besides, I have to get ready for work soon anyway.”
Neither of us made any move to get up. Blane wrapped a lock of my hair around his finger, his gaze focusing on it rather than me as he asked, “Have you been back to see Kade?”
I stiffened, immediately wary. “We probably shouldn’t discuss Kade,” I hedged. All the guilt and doubts I’d managed to push to the back of my mind came flooding back. I squirmed, easing out of Blane’s arms and getting to my feet.
“We can’t really not discuss him, either,” Blane said. He stood as well.
“Then yes,” I said, averting my gaze. I slipped my shoes back on and started to pick up the blanket. “I’ve been to see him. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Not really, not if I’m honest,” he replied.
I folded the blanket over my arms, holding it against my chest like a shield as I faced him. “What do you want from me, Blane?”
“Fine, I’ll lay it on the line,” he said, moving closer until he stood right in front of me. “I want you, just you, all to myself. I don’t want you seeing Kade anymore. I want you to want to be with me, and only me.”
I swallowed. “You’re asking me to choose. I can’t do that. Not right now.” The thought of giving Kade up caused a physical pain inside my chest.
Blane cursed, turning to pace away, his hands resting on his hips.
“I’m not asking you to stick around,” I said. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore, see me anymore.” The words sounded selfless, but that was far from how I felt. I’d really enjoyed being with Blane today. I didn’t want to lose him.
Blane gave a curt nod, which I had no idea how to interpret. He picked up the basket and took the blanket from me. I followed him in silence to the car.
The drive back to my apartment was rife with tension. Blane had an iron grip on the steering wheel, sunglasses again covering his eyes. His expression was like granite.
I fidgeted, nerves getting the best of me.
When we pulled into my parking lot, Blane put the car in park, but made no move to turn off the engine. He stared straight ahead.
“Um, thanks for lunch,” I murmured as I fumbled for the door handle. I felt absurdly like I wanted to cry. Absurd because, really, what had I thought would happen? Eventually, my feelings for Kade would drive Blane away, and vice versa. This tension with Blane shouldn’t have been a surprise.
“Wait,” Blane said, his hand shooting out to grip my wrist, catch me just as I was about to exit the car.
I stilled but didn’t turn.
“I’m sorry, Kat,” he said. “I’ve lost you so many times. I’m scared to death that this time, if I lose you, it’ll be forever.”
I looked around at him, his words breaking my heart. “I love you,” I said. “You know that.”
“But are you still in love with me?”
I hesitated before answering. “I don’t know.”