The Billionaire Boyfriend Proposal: A Kavanagh Family Novel (12 page)

But I couldn't grasp the consequences of
that. Tomorrow I would. Not now. Now I wanted to hold Blake in my
arms for the rest of the night.

Tomorrow would be the time for hard truths
and regrets. Maybe, just maybe, we could restore our fragile
friendship. Either that, or we'd see if it had been shattered
forever.

CHAPTER 8

Blake was still in my bed when I awoke in the
morning. His arms were looped around me, holding me against his
chest. I didn't know why I expected him to be gone. When we were
younger and Gran was alive, he would sneak out through my window
and down the drainpipe before daylight, sometimes after I'd fallen
asleep. There was no need for subterfuge anymore.

"Hey," he said as I stirred. "Good
morning."

"Hello."
Ugh
, I sounded so formal. I
drew in a deep breath and got a lungful of the twin scents of Blake
and sex.

He swept my hair from my shoulders and
gathered it in his hands. "You're beautiful in the mornings."

My face heated, damn it. "Um, we should get
some breakfast."

"Why rush?" He kissed my mouth, his hands
still buried in my hair.

Typical man. He thought years of problems
could be swept aside by a night of passion. Wrong, Blake. So
wrong.

I pulled away and he watched me from beneath
heavy lids. "You okay?"

"Sure." But I shook my head. "No. Blake, this
isn't right. Last night and the night before just happened. I
wasn't thinking and—"

"Why should you think?" He sat up and leaned
back against the headboard, his blue eyes watchful, his lips full,
inviting.

I got out of bed and threw on a robe. I could
feel his gaze on me, but I avoided looking at him. "I told you last
night. We can't go back, Blake. It's impossible."

"We don't know until we try."

"I don't want to try."

He greeted my response with a long silence
that forced me to look at him. He climbed out of bed and stood in
front of me, naked.

Don't look down.

But I couldn't look in his eyes either. They
were too intense and troubled.

"I thought last night was beautiful, Cassie."
He shook his head, as if trying to shake the right words loose. "I
felt like we connected again, like it wasn't just sex, but
something more. It sounds trite, but I thought something profound
happened between us. I was sure you felt it too."

I stepped away and tied up the robe. "You're
mistaken." It had felt like goodbye sex to me. Clearly it hadn't
for him.

He clicked his tongue and rubbed his hand
through his hair and down the back of his neck. "Damn it, Cassie. I
don't think I am."

I said nothing. There was no point arguing
about it.

"Why don't you want to try?" He didn't shout,
but his raised voice had a hard edge of demand to it. "Why don't
you want to see if we can work?"

"Because unlike you, I can't forget. I can't
set aside what went wrong between us like you can."

"We can work it through if we love one
another enough."

"That's the problem, Blake. I don't believe
we do." The fire that usually burned low in me ignited, fueling me.
I had to get some things off my chest or I'd combust. I met his
gaze with my own and was shocked to see the confusion there. He had
no idea how much his leaving had affected me. None whatsoever. "No
amount of love can undo the damage that's been done."

"Cassie, listen to me. I know I hurt you." He
went to grasp my shoulders, but I moved away. He swallowed. "I wish
I could take back how hard I defended Reece. Maybe you were right
and he is partly to blame for Wendy's suicide, but that's in the
past and it's someone else's story. Not ours."

"The two stories are linked, whether we want
them to be or not. Wendy connects them."

"Jesus, Cassie. Don't let them ruin us."

I hated hearing the plea in his voice. It
didn't sit well with the tough guy image. It made me want to give
in.

"I needed you," I told him, the tears
springing to my eyes again. "I needed you to be there for me and
help me get through it. But you backed away."

He lifted a hand, maybe to touch my face or
my shoulder, but paused. Instead, he toyed with a strand of my
hair. His mouth twisted in pain, the muscles in his jaw tensed. "I
backed away because you were blaming Reece. You were so angry, and
even angrier whenever you saw me. It was like you took it out on me
because you felt you couldn't take it out on Reece."

Is that what he thought I was doing?

"I didn't know how to make you feel better,"
he added.

"Just being with me would have been a
start."

"At the time, being with you meant abandoning
my brother. I couldn't do that."

"So you chose to abandon me instead."

He let go of my hair and dropped his hands to
his sides. He lowered his head. "I didn't want to, but staying was
making everything worse between us. If it makes you feel any
better, I was miserable. I took the most active job in both mind
and body so I didn't have to think about you. It only partly
worked. I've never been able to fully let you go."

I wiped my damp cheeks. There was nothing to
say to that. I was too clogged up with tears to respond anyway.

"Reece was hurting for a long time after
Wendy's death," he went on. "I know you don't believe that, but
it's true. Yes, she was your sister, and his loss can't compare to
yours, but he bore the extra burden of guilt. We knew he was
blaming himself, but there was nothing we could do about it."

I'd heard it before, of course, but this time
it seemed to make sense.

"You've got to let go of your anger toward
him," he murmured. "Not for me or us, but for you. It's going to
eat you up and destroy you."

I blinked through my tears. To my surprise, I
wasn't angry with Reece anymore. I thought back and realized I'd
begun to release my negativity toward him around the time Cleo came
on the scene and he abandoned his plans to knock my house down.

I nodded, still unable to speak through the
bank of tears inside me. He smiled tentatively and touched his
knuckle to my cheek. He caught a tear before it slid off. "You
okay?"

I nodded, but still something inside me
rolled up into a tight ball and hid. I didn't know why. I just knew
that I couldn't love him back with my whole heart, and Blake
deserved nothing less.

Someone rapped on the door. "Cassie, Blake,
you in there?" It was Robbie.

"Yes," Blake snapped.

"Uh, sorry for the interruption, but there's
a note for Cassie on the kitchen table. It's from Lyle. You might
want to read it."

Blake opened the door a crack and took the
note from Robbie before closing it again. My nerves were frayed
enough already and now I had to contend with whatever Lyle had
done.

The note was signed with the letter L and it
stated that he'd 'borrowed' some money from me and taken Gran's
engagement and wedding rings. He planned on bringing them back when
a particular horse won.

"That bastard! Asshole!" I reread the note,
unable to believe my own brother had betrayed me like that. He'd
used me, stolen from me, and I knew I'd never see the money or
Gran's rings again. I tore the note in half then half again and
again until the pieces were too small to tear anymore. Then I threw
them on the carpet and stomped on them.

Blake let me rant. He wouldn't have been able
to stop me anyway. I was much too furious to listen to reason or
his soothing voice. I wanted to punch something, preferably Lyle's
nose.

When the pieces of paper had been ground into
the carpet as much as possible, I sat on the bed and cried. Blake
sat beside me. He circled his arm around my shoulders and drew me
to his chest. His strong heartbeat and gentle hands eased the anger
out of me.

"I can find him if you want," he said. "If
he's already pawned your grandmother's rings, I'll find the pawn
shop and buy them back."

"I don't have any money," I said,
pathetically.

"I do. And no, you don't have to pay me
back."

"No, Blake. I'm not going to ask that of you.
Lyle needs to make the right decision himself."

"And if he doesn't?"

I shrugged. I would cross that bridge when I
came to it. Right now, I was too heart-sore. It wasn't that Lyle
had taken Gran's rings and what little money I had, it was that
he'd left again. In fact, he'd never intended to stay at all. For a
brief moment after he'd opened up to us last night, I thought he
might have changed. I might get back one member of the family I'd
lost. Seemed I was wrong.

"I need a shower," I said.

Blake let me go and I gathered up some
clothes and headed to the bathroom. I shut the door, turned on the
water and sat on the shower floor as the water streamed over me
like hot tears. My sadness was like a well inside me with no end.
I'd been abandoned again.

After a lot of tears had been shed and my
skin began to wrinkle, I picked myself up and washed. By the time I
toweled off, I'd come to one certain conclusion. There was no way
I'd open myself up to such heartache again.

***

Blake and Robbie worked in the summer house
while I painted down at the river. Usually the activity helped me
think, but not today. Today there were too many emotions knotted
inside me and I couldn't untangle them.

That night, after Robbie went to bed, Blake
and I sat in thick silence on the back porch. The night air was
chilly and smelled like pending rain. I was thinking of ways in
which to say goodnight to Blake without hurting his feelings or
inviting him up to my bedroom for another night together, when he
spoke instead. "We didn't use protection."

I rubbed my temple.

"Will you keep me informed?"

"Of course."

"Promise me, Cassie."

"I promise."

He blew out a breath. "Thank you."

His response startled me. "You don't need to
thank me for that. I
will
tell you if I fall pregnant,
Blake. I'm not completely heartless."

He said nothing. A moment later he stood.
"Goodnight."

I let him go even though a very big part of
me didn't want to. I hated watching him walk away, his shoulders a
little stooped. I knew I'd hurt him, but I just didn't know how to
go about it any differently. I couldn't describe what was bothering
me about our relationship. I couldn't figure it out. Besides, I was
afraid that whatever I said would be turned around and he'd talk me
out of it. Or rather, talk me
into
sleeping with him
again.

***

"Come for lunch." Ellen stood on my doorstep
dressed in a cream suit with a black tailored shirt. Her skin was a
light tan and her hair white-blonde. The only spot of color on her
person was her blood-red lipstick and fingernails. It was Sunday,
but Ellen didn't believe in dressing down on the weekend. It was
Chanel or nothing.

"I can't," I said, trying to think up an
excuse.

"Why not? It's not like you're doing
anything."

"I'm helping Blake and Robbie in the summer
house."

"They don't need you. You're just getting in
the way."

I bristled.

"Come for lunch. It's just the Kavanagh
women."

I narrowed my gaze. "You're the only Kavanagh
woman that I know of."

"There's Cleo now."

"She's still a Denny."

"Semantics." She waved her hand, almost
swiping me with her talons. "Rebecca Denny is coming too."

"She's definitely not a Kavanagh."

Her lips pulled together, making the lipstick
bleed into the tiny lines around her mouth. "You have to come. Cleo
asked me to invite you. There, now it's settled. Be there in
fifteen minutes. That'll give you long enough to change."

I followed her disgusted gaze down my length.
I wore the blue overalls I used for painting. Not artistic
painting, but house painting. There were splotches of gray, cream
and white all over them. I wasn't dressed appropriately for lunch
with anyone let alone Ellen.

"What if I like what I'm wearing?"

"Now you're just being difficult." She turned
and walked briskly away, her heels
click-clacking
with
purpose down the steps. It would seem I was going to the Kavanagh
house for lunch.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Blake
asked when I told him. He had set up an outdoor workshop for
himself as he made new cabinets. I'd expected him to order them in
already made, but it seemed he preferred the hands-on approach to
building. He stood over a half-made cabinet with some sort of
electronic saw in hand. Robbie was inside the summer house,
finishing up the painting. I'd only gone to the main house to get
cold drinks when the doorbell had rung.

"She didn't really give me an option," I
said.

He set down the saw and wiped his brow. "I
wonder what she's up to."

"You think she's up to something?"

"No! Probably not." He shook his head with
vigor. "I'm sure she's just being polite and neighborly."

I snorted. Ellen was neither of those things.
Blunt and businesslike described her better. I held out the tray
and he took a glass.

"Cassie," he began.

I didn't let him continue. "Robbie!
Drinks!"

"Coming!" Robbie called back.

Blake huffed out a breath. "You can't avoid
me forever."

"I know. I mean, I'm not. But I have to go or
I'll be late." I handed the tray to him and headed back to the main
house. "There's some bread in the kitchen and cold meats in the
fridge. Help yourselves."

I changed and raced out the door, but was
still five minutes late. Cleo's car was already parked near the
front steps.

"You're late," Ellen said when the maid
showed me through to the conservatory at the back of the house.

Cleo gave me a cheeky smile. She'd worked
with Ellen and knew how frosty she could be.