Turn on a Dime - Blane's Turn (9 page)

“Where is he now?” she asked.

Good question. “He lives here in Indy,” Blane answered. Which was sort of true.

“It must be nice to have family close,” Kathleen mused, reminding Blane of how very alone she was.

“It can be,” he said.

She was quiet then and Blane fell silent, too. It was nice, nicer than he would have expected, to be with her. Kathleen wanted nothing from him except his presence, a novel experience. Blane tried very hard not to think about how little she was wearing. Even the tiny shorts she’d had on before had been discarded. The way she was situated on his lap, she’d know very quickly if his thoughts turned carnal.

“When were you in the military?” Kathleen asked.

Blane answered automatically, his concentration focused on keeping control. “Six years ago.” Maybe if he resituated them . . .

He moved, which was a bad idea. His arm brushed her breast and she shivered. Kathleen’s telltale response to the touch sent Blane’s imagination careening off into a decidedly non-platonic direction. If an accidental brush had caused that reaction, how responsive would she be to a more purposeful seduction?

“Which branch?” she asked.

Blane tamped down his wayward thoughts. He was acting like a horny teenager with nothing but sex on the brain, though to be fair, he was in bed with a nearly naked woman sitting on his lap. “I was a Navy SEAL,” he answered, though the past tense wasn’t really correct. Once a SEAL, always a SEAL.

She was quiet at that and Blane thought he knew what she was thinking. “Surprised?” he asked.

“A little.”

She really knew how to take his ego down a few notches. “And why is that?”

“It’s just that not many men like you join the military.”

Ouch. “And what are ‘men like me?’” Blane was almost afraid of her answer, since she obviously thought so little of him, and perhaps his tone clued her in because she didn’t answer. He sighed. “I guess I can’t blame you for thinking that. My father was furious when I told him I was going to join the Navy. But he and I had come to a parting of the ways long before I decided to sign up.” And he’d died before they’d ever reconciled, not that Blane knew if they ever would have.

Thinking about his father was an exercise in futility, and Blane leaned his head back against the wall with another tired sigh.

Kathleen moved to sit up and Blane tightened his arms around her, hoping she’d take the unspoken hint. He liked her on his lap and he wasn’t keen to let go. She hesitated, then tentatively relaxed against him. Her body was warm and soft, the faint scent of her shampoo lingered in her hair.

Blane stayed awake for a short time, just to make sure her nightmare didn’t resume where it had left off. But her breathing became deep and even, her limbs utterly relaxed. Carefully so as not to wake her, Blane shifted, turning so he could lay her down in the bed.

The thought crossed his mind that he should probably go back to the couch. Blane slowly slid his arm out from beneath her.

Kathleen immediately frowned in her sleep, murmuring something. She shifted restlessly and Blane curved his arm in the dip of her waist as he lay behind her. She stilled, a soft sigh escaping.

It looked like he was stuck. Blane’s lips curved in a sardonic half-smile. Oh, what a terrible thing—he had to cuddle a sexy, half-naked woman in her bed so she could sleep. Yes, he led a difficult life indeed.

Her shirt had twisted, exposing the warm planes of her stomach down to the tops of her little bikini panties. Blane’s hand rested on her belly, his iron control all that kept him from exploring the possibilities, though his fingers did lightly brush her skin, smooth and soft to the touch.

His headache was gone now and he closed his eyes, realizing before he drifted off to sleep that this was the first time he’d ever slept with a woman and
not
had sex with her.

Blane didn’t know what woke him, but he lifted his head off the pillow, listening for a noise.

Nothing.

Where the hell was he?

Oh, yeah. Kathleen.

Last night came back in a rush and he laid his head back down. He felt much better after a few hours of sleep and was glad he could function on less that the ideal eight.

Of course, the warm curves of Kathleen’s body against his might also have something to do with his current good mood. That was until he abruptly realized that a) he had a raging hard on pressed against her ass and b) his hand was cupping her breast. Her naked, gorgeous, mouth-watering, perfect breast that fit in his hand like she’d been made just for him.

Blane closed his eyes, sending up a quick prayer that maybe she was still asleep, that he could extricate himself from this fuckup without any damaging repercussions. God, all he needed was her accusing him of rape or sexual harassment or some other such shit. She didn’t seem the type, but he hardly knew her and sometimes you just couldn’t tell.

The nipple of her breast grew taut and Blane’s cock twitched. He didn’t move. Every instinct inside him wanted to take this to its natural conclusion, which would only be adding a huge mistake onto what was rapidly becoming a pile of them where Kathleen was concerned.

His lips by her ear, Blane breathed in a nearly silent whisper. “Are you awake?”

She gave a tiny nod.

Fuck.

But this was also interesting. She was awake, but not moving. Neither encouraging or discouraging him. If she was upset, she’d have started yelling by now, Blane was sure, slapped him or jumped up or
something
. But she wasn’t. Of course, neither was she doing anything to signal she wanted him to continue.

Hmm.

Still, better to think with his head and not with his dick.

Regretfully, Blane removed his hand, but he couldn’t resist the slow slide of his skin against hers from her breast, down her stomach to the tops of her panties, then up to the gentle curve of her hip. He stopped there, his thumb whispering across her skin as his fingers settled into the bend of where her thigh met her hip. He could hear her breathing, fast and shallow. Did she want this?

One last try. “I should go,” he rasped. All Kathleen had to do was say one word, make just one hesitation, and Blane would do all he could to convince her that she wanted to wrap those legs around his waist and let him give her fabulous breasts the undivided attention they deserved.

To his disappointment, she nodded, still without moving any other part of her body or speaking.

It suddenly occurred to Blane that she might be afraid. Maybe her breathing and rapid pulse weren’t from arousal, but from fear. He was just as much a stranger to her as she was to him, and here he was touching her without her permission. Yes, she’d been amenable to him entering her bed last night, but he had been comforting her. Maybe she was thinking he now believed she owed him this. And he was her boss. Did she think he’d fire her if she turned him down?

That certainly had a dousing effect on the heat in his blood, propelling Blane up and out of the bed. In the living room, he grabbed his jacket and tie, glad the sobering thought that he might have scared Kathleen had taken care of his hard on. Nothing like the idea that a woman feared she was moments from being raped to take the wind out of those particular sails.

She’d followed him, he saw as he pocketed his wallet and cell. Thankfully, she’d put on a pair of shorts first. Or maybe that was a shame? Her arms were crossed protectively over her chest, which definitely was.

“Thanks for coming,” she said as their eyes met.

Blane shoved his gun into the small of his back and picked up his keys.

“And for staying,” she added. Her fair skin was flushed, turning even rosier as he looked at her. Her hair was tousled in a just-fucked way that most women could only achieve after an hour and an entire can of hair spray.

At least it didn’t sound like she was going to sue him. “It wasn’t a problem,” Blane finally said. “I’m sorry about your friend. I’ll let you know if I find out anything.”

She nodded.

“If the police contact you, call me,” he continued. “Don’t talk to them without me there.”

“Okay.”

Blane hesitated. Should he say something? Apologize? Or just pretend it hadn’t happened?

He went with the latter, heading out the door and down to his car. She was still outside, watching him leave, when he pulled out of the lot.

Kade was waiting for him when he got home.

“Decided not to stay for breakfast?” he asked with a smirk and a cocked eyebrow when Blane walked into the den.

“Says the man who never bothers to learn their name,” Blane retorted, tossing his jacket and tie onto a nearby chair and heading for the sideboard. Was it too early to drink? Without a doubt. But he wanted to burn away the feel of Kathleen’s body pressed against his, the weight of her breast in his palm, the trust in her clear blue eyes.

Kade was sprawled on the leather sofa, his long legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed. He wore his usual black boots, jeans and black shirt, and had tossed his leather jacket over the back of the couch.

“Did she try to sink her claws in?” Kade joked, eyeing Blane’s drink. “Or was it so bad you’re trying to forget?”

Blane shook his head, taking another swallow. He didn’t want to talk about Kathleen. Best to just forget about last night, or this morning, really. “It’s five o’clock somewhere, right?”

Kade just snorted.

“There was a murder last night,” Blane said. “I think it might have been someone related to Mark.”

“The snitch?”

“Yeah.”

“Is he still alive?”

“No clue. I’ll try to get a hold of him,” Blane said. “In the meantime, can you see what you can find on James Gage’s possible involvement?”

“I’ll have to break into his office.”

“Fine. Just don’t get caught.”

“Please,” Kade scoffed. “You forget who you’re talking to.”

Blane half-smiled. Kade was good, he had to give him that.

“So what are you doing here anyway?” he asked. “We have to keep me and you on the down low, especially if I’m being watched.”

“No one saw me come and I promise, no one will see me go,” Kade said, rolling his eyes. “Mona texted me, said she was making waffles.” He grinned. “So I came.”

Blane huffed a laugh. “She always could bribe you with food.”

“Damn straight.”

Monday was cloudy and cold, not that Blane noticed. He buried himself in work and tried not to think of Kathleen. That hadn’t worked out so well yesterday, when he could still smell her on his clothes.

He wasn’t about to hunt her down. He’d already made too many mistakes with her. Staying away was the absolute best decision.

And then he turned the corner and saw her sitting in a chair, talking with Clarice.

His memory hadn’t done justice to how pretty she was. He was abruptly reminded of her body pressed into his.

Then he heard what she was saying.

“ . . . James asked me out.”

“James?” Clarice asked. “James Gage?”

“The very one,” Kathleen answered. “We’re going out to dinner tomorrow night.”

Blane stepped into view. Both women glanced up at him in surprise.

James Gage was bad news. Blane knew it, even if Kade had yet to find the evidence. And now Kathleen was going on a date with James? No way in hell.

Whatever the look on his face was, it must not have been very friendly because Kathleen immediately jumped to her feet.

“Did you have any deliveries for me?” she asked Clarice, her tone switching from friendly to no-nonsense.

“No, not today, thank you,” Clarice answered, turning back to her computer.

Kathleen made to pass him by, but Blane reached out to grasp her arm. “Can I see you for a moment, Kathleen?” It wasn’t really a question.

“Um . . . sure,” she said.

She followed Blane into his office where he closed the door behind her. Even as he tossed the files he was carrying onto his desk, Blane wondered what the hell he was doing. Hadn’t he been berating himself all day for getting involved with her? He had to stay away, and instead, here he was ordering her into his office.