Chapter 38
Blaine told himself she’d just been trying to get through to Ethan. But he knew that wasn’t true. No matter where else she might have gone wrong, she would never lie to Ethan to his face. Telling him that in the heat of the moment was one thing, but saying it out loud to their son…
Memories of last night rose up to swamp him. He knew Erin, knew she never would have done what she’d done, never would have made love to him as much as he made love to her, if she hadn’t…if she didn’t…mean it.
At the time, he’d been grateful they hadn’t had time to discuss it.
Thankful there had been no time for her to admit she regretted what they’d done.
Although how anyone could regret the kind of impossibly hot, all-consuming sex they’d had—the kind they had always had—was a bit beyond him.
That was why he’d made sure before, because he knew he wasn’t going to be able to think after.
…how are you going to feel…after?
I’ll deal with that then. But I swear, I won’t take it out on you.
And she wouldn’t, he knew that. No, Erin would just walk away. Saying only she couldn’t do this again. Just as she had before.
I never stopped loving your father.
The words rang in his ears. Had they been just to calm Ethan, or…had she truly meant them?
He gave a shake of his head. She’d meant them.
Erin wouldn’t say something like that unless she meant it.
But there were different kinds of love. Maybe she’d just meant she loved him as Ethan’s father, not the mate she’d had for decades.
Maybe it had been too long, maybe they’d burnt it out, maybe, in her heart, there was nothing left but ashes.
If there was, he had to know. But this was not the kind of discussion to have in front of the boy they’d just pulled out of potential disaster. At the same time, he didn’t feel like letting his son out of his sight just now, either, because of what they’d just gone through—
Cutter moved. The agile dog jumped to his feet, trotted over to the door of the guesthouse, nosed around in a basket Blaine hadn’t even noticed before, and came back with a bright lime green tennis ball in his mouth.
He trotted back and dropped the ball over the arm of the chair into Ethan’s lap.
The boy looked startled. Cutter nudged the ball, then Ethan’s hand, and let out a tiny whine, sounding for all the world like any dog who wanted to play.
Ethan picked up the ball. And Blaine realized this was his chance. “Go ahead. We’ll…finish this later. There’s room in the courtyard. He’s earned some playtime, don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” Ethan said, his expression brightening.
The dog would also keep Ethan safe. And here. Blaine knew that deep in his gut now, and apparently so did Erin, because she made no complaint as the two headed for the door.
“And hey,” Blaine called out. “Think about calling your buddy Connor. He’s been worried about you.”
Ethan looked embarrassed, but nodded, and then followed Cutter out the door.
Erin got up from her kneeling position, but instead of coming back to him she turned and sat in the chair Ethan had been in. And he didn’t know how to interpret that. And was too fearful of saying the wrong thing to speak at all.
“Aren’t you going to ask?” she said.
“Ask…what?”
“If I meant it.”
“No, I’m not going to ask.”
Her head tilted slightly. “Why?”
“Because I’m afraid of the answer.”
To his shock, she laughed. “You? Afraid? The man who’s faced combat, the man who flies a machine that wants to tear itself apart, the man who faced down death and won?”
He had the feeling this was important. Very important. So he held her gaze when he said, slowly, “Do you really think I wasn’t afraid? Erin, I was always afraid. All those times, I was afraid.”
“But you did what had to be done anyway. And that is the difference between you and me, Blaine. You always will, and I…can’t.”
“But you did. When it mattered most, you did what has to be done. You fought those doctors when I couldn’t, you left when you had to for your own sanity, and you set aside your feelings and called me when you had to for Ethan.
That’s not cowardice, Erin. You keep saying it, but you’re not a coward.
I meant what I said—bravery isn’t not being afraid.
It’s saddling up and heading out anyway, because it has to be done. ”
He heard her let out a long breath, and she seemed to slump a little. And he had the thought that if they were going to have this all out anyway, and it seemed they were, maybe this was the time. He’d have to work up to it, but…now or never.
“I want to ask something…about what I’ve never understood.”
She looked up then. “Go ahead.” She gave him the faintest of wry smiles. “As long as we’re digging down to the bone.”
“I would have gotten it if you’d left when I was such a wreck, but… I never understood why you left when you did. After the hard part was over.”
“I couldn’t have left when you were so hurt!” It broke from her in a burst, as if she were pointing out the obvious.
And there it was. The perfect opening for the question he’d lugged around for two years now. Yet still he hesitated.
He made himself say it.
“Then tell me. What would you have done if…if I hadn’t been able to get back on my feet? If I’d continued as broken as I was in the beginning. If I’d given up the fight and just decided to live that way?”
He saw her eyes move, away from him, but then she was meeting his gaze again. Another deep breath, and she said. “I would have stayed.”
His own breath jammed up in his chest, tightening it almost beyond bearing. This was why it had been so hard to ask. “So my getting better destroyed us? You wanted me…helpless?”
He shot to his feet. As he would not be able to do if it had happened that way.
“Blaine, no!”
“Sounds pretty clear. My getting better ended our marriage.”
He turned on his heel as sharply as if he’d been given an about-face order. And walked out, ignoring her calling his name.
He was a couple of steps into the courtyard, not really sure where he was going or what he was going to do, when he heard his son.
“Dad, watch!” Ethan yelled. “He’s amazing!”
He turned to look at boy and dog. Ethan threw the tennis ball high into the air.
Cutter watched the arching sphere, dancing sideways as it started its downward trajectory, until he was in the perfect spot.
When the ball reached about Blaine’s height, the dog jumped high into the air and snatched it in a perfectly judged and timed leap.
“That he is,” Blaine said, grinning at his son, letting the relief soothe and calm him again. “You keep at it. I’m going to go talk to Rafe for a minute.”
He hadn’t really planned that when he’d left the guesthouse; he’d just had to get away. Had to think, and he couldn’t do that in the same room with Erin. But now that he’d said it, it seemed like the thing to do. The guy was sane, and he’d been there. Here.
Damn, I can’t even think straight.
Rafe was typing at the keyboard of that same workstation, using Blaine’s own “two-fingered and the occasional thumb” method. Erin could put them both in the dust, as fast as she typed. He yanked his thoughts away.
Rafe looked up as he came in. “That was fast,” he said, then paused before adding, “That is, assuming you got things straightened out.”
Blaine grimaced. “Not exactly.”
He hadn’t planned this, either, but before he could stop he was explaining what had just happened.
“So if you’d been disabled for life she would have stayed, but because you weren’t, she left?” Rafe said.
“Yeah.” He shook his head slowly. “How the hell do I deal with that?”
Rafe looked thoughtful, and it was a moment before he said, “But you’ve said she’s the one who got you to that point.”
“Yes.”
“So she fought for you.”
Blaine nodded again. “Hard.”
Rafe leaned back in his chair, looking up at Blaine. “Sounds like she already did her part. Do you want to do the same?”
“What?”
“Fight for her. Do you want to put it back together?”
Blaine had never really put it into concrete words like that. And once Rafe had, there was only one possible answer. “I love her. I have since I was seven years old.”
“Then take it from two guys who nearly blew it,” came another voice from behind him.
He spun around to see Walker Cole coming out of the office in the far corner of the building.
His hair was neatly combed today, and the tats were gone.
“I knew my Amy almost as long, since she’s my sister’s best friend.
When we first reconnected, she hated my guts.
And now, I’m drunk with happy to be with her. ”
Blaine looked back at Rafe, who just sat there with a blissful, crooked grin on his face, an expression he never could have imagined the tough, gruff sniper ever wearing.
He gave them both a sour grimace, but one that his heart wasn’t in. “You two are a walking advertisement for mushy endings, y’know?”
“Yeah,” they both said simultaneously.
“Or for guys who got their heads on straight,” Walker said.
Rafe reached out and picked something up off the printer and handed it to him. “Something that might help a bit,” was all he said. “Read it before you take that next step.”
“And say yes,” Walker put in, nodding toward the printed page.
He glanced at it. His eyes widened, and he looked back at Rafe. “You’re serious? Your boss is serious?”
“Which one?” Rafe asked blandly. “I have two now.”
“Me, too,” Walker agreed. “And I’ve never been happier.”
“So,” Rafe added, wearing that grin again, “go make us a trio.”