31. Ransom
31
RANSOM
M y chest heaves as Blair pushes me back. The loss of her warmth hits like a physical blow. Her lips are swollen from our kiss, gray eyes wide and wild. Everything in me screams to pull her close again, to show her how perfect we could be together.
But her arms wrap around herself—a barrier between us.
"This isn't smart." Blair's voice shakes. "We can't?—"
I can't let her talk herself out of this. And I sure as fuck won't let her push me away. "I've spent my entire adult life doing the smart thing. We're in our fucking forties now, Blair." The words burst out of me. "We're not kids anymore. There's nothing stopping us from exploring this."
"Except our completely different lives." She runs a hand through her hair. "You live in Chicago. I live here. Nothing's changed."
"Everything's changed." I take a step toward her, but stop when she tenses. "I built something. Made a life. And now I know exactly what I want." Her. I fucking want her. Any way I can have her.
"Ransom—"
"That kiss." My voice drops low. "Tell me you didn't feel it. Tell me twenty-five years killed what's between us."
She closes her eyes, but I see the tremor in her hands. She’s fighting us so hard.
I’ll fight harder.
"It doesn't matter what I felt."
"It's the only thing that matters." Another careful step closer. "Give me a chance, Blair. Let me show you how amazing we could be together."
"And then what?" Her eyes snap open. "You go back to Chicago? Your family's there. Your business."
She’s trotting out the same argument, over and over. I get it. I did the same thing, with the same fucking argument. But my need for her is overriding any objections I had. They’re not gone, they just don’t matter as much as she does.
"We figure it out." My heart pounds against my ribs. "Together. I'm not walking away this time. I can't."
"Because you made a promise to my father?"
"Because I love you." The words rip from my chest. And I'll say it again and again, until she finally believes it. Because I don't have a single doubt about how I'm feeling. "I never stopped loving you. Every relationship, every kiss—they were all measured against you. And they all fell short."
Blair's breath catches. I want to gather her in my arms, to kiss away the uncertainty I see in her eyes. But I force myself to stay still, to give her space to process. When I want something, really want something, I'm a fucking predator. I will watch, wait, and my timing is always perfect.
I want Blair. Simple as that. And I'm about to enter into the most important negotiation of my life. My whole fucking future hangs on this woman.
I will not fail.
"One chance." I hold her gaze. "That's all I'm asking for. If it doesn't work, I'll respect your decision. But don't push me away because you're scared of what could happen." I drag my hands through my hair, the familiar ache in my chest growing. "You know what scares me most? This feeling. Being desperate. I haven't felt like this since—" My voice catches. "Since I left you."
Blair's eyes find mine, storm-gray and conflicted.
"I built my whole life around never feeling this way again. Around being in control." I let out a shaky breath. "But here I am, ready to tear everything apart for a chance with you."
"Ransom—"
"Let me finish. Please." I step closer, close enough to catch her scent. "I used my family as a shield. Told myself I couldn't come back because they needed me. Because I had responsibilities."
Her brow furrows. "Your brothers do need you."
"They do. But that wasn't the real reason." The admission burns my throat. "I was a coward, Blair. I let them be my excuse because I was terrified of facing you again. Of dealing with what I'd done."
"What my father made you do," she whispers.
"No. His part doesn't excuse mine. I could have found another way. Could have written, called, something." My hands clench at my sides. "But I ran. And I kept running."
Blair wraps her arms tighter around herself. "This is—it's too much. Learning about Dad, and now you're here saying all this..."
"I know. But here's the thing about me—I always find a way to make things work for the people I love. Always. It's what I do best." I risk touching her arm. "I've built companies from nothing. Turned strangers into family. Created something beautiful out of chaos. And for a while, I forgot that about myself."
She doesn't pull away from my touch. "Um... congratulations?"
Laughing, I take a step closer. "I'm trying to show you that when something matters enough, I figure it out. I bend. I adapt." My thumb traces circles on her skin. "You matter, Blair. You always have."
Her eyes are wary. "You forgot that? Or you forgot me?"
"I didn't let myself dream of you. And in the last year or two, I developed this idea that it had to be them or you. That I couldn't have both. But I'm good at family, Blair. Really good. And I'm realizing that maybe I could have my dream."
She closes her eyes, tension visible in every line of her body. "I can't—I need time. To process all this. Dad, you, everything."
"I know." It kills me, but I drop my hand. It’s like she’s a broken record, skipping back to that same thing, over and over. And it’s my own fault. I know it's time to back off, just a little. To give her the space she needs so desperately. "I'm not asking for an answer right now. Just... don't shut the door completely. Please."
A single tear trails down Blair's cheek, catching the moonlight. In all our years together, she'd always hated crying—would scrub the tears away like they were evidence of weakness. But now she just lets it fall, and my heart cracks at the sight.
I can't stop myself. My hand reaches out, thumb brushing away that lone tear. Her skin is soft, familiar in a way that steals my breath. Blair's hand comes up, trapping mine against her cheek, and time freezes.
Memories flood through me—her laughing as we raced through early summer rain, her curled against me in the bed of that truck watching stars, her fierce eyes the last time I saw her before I left. The weight of twenty-five lost years crashes over me, but here she is, real and warm under my palm.
Every cell in my body screams to pull her into my arms, to hold her close and never let go. But I force myself to be still. I've waited this long. I can wait longer if it means doing this right.
Blair pulls back first, her voice soft. "I need to get back. Maggie's tired in the evenings lately—I help her get Max settled."
I drop my hand, ignoring how wrong it feels. "Of course."
We walk back to the truck in silence. Before she climbs in, I catch her arm. "Have breakfast with me tomorrow? At the diner?"
She hesitates, and I hold my breath. One fucking chance. Let me in, just a little bit.
"Okay." She nods slowly. "Eight o'clock."
"Eight. I'll be there."
The silence between us on the drive back to her house stretches tightly. There's turmoil, yes, but the heaviness from before, the unanswered questions, are gone. I know I'm taking a huge risk. Everything's changed for her tonight. Everything she thought she knew has been turned on its head.
And still, I can't help hoping.
Her house appears around the bend, warm lights glowing in the windows. Blair pulls into the driveway, cuts the engine. Neither of us moves for a second.
When she opens her door and slides out, I follow. I watch her walk toward the house, memorizing the way she moves—those usually strong, confident steps are quieter, slower. My fingers drum against my thigh as she walks away from me. It's only fair, really, that I have to watch her walk away so often. I crushed her and left her on that bench, forcing her to watch me walk away. I wonder if it felt even a little bit like this. Like her heart was being torn out, taken away.
Then she stops.
The door hangs half-open, spilling golden light across her shoulders. She turns, grey eyes finding mine.
"Eight o'clock," she says, voice carrying clear in the evening air.
A grin spreads across my face. There's no fucking stopping it. "Eight."
She disappears inside, but I stand there another moment, letting hope fill my chest.
She looked back.
Finally, I head for my car. Inside, I pull out my phone and type a quick message to Nick: "I'm going to be staying here longer than I thought."
Nick's reply: "Fuck. Really? It's going okay? You're sure you know what you're doing?"
For the first time in years, I actually do.
The pieces click into place like a perfect business deal. Blair's not some acquisition to negotiate, but the way forward is just as clear. Twenty-five years ago, I let fear drive me away. Maybe I could have made a different decision, but it doesn't really matter anymore. I don't let my brothers dwell on the mistakes they made in their past, so why shouldn't I give myself the same grace? And in those years away, I built an empire, created a family, and proved to myself that I deserved a second chance; that I don't have to spend the rest of my life paying for what I did to my family.
But I never let her go. Not really.
Blair's got roots here—deep ones that wrap around Maggie, Max, and every person in this town. She won't leave, and I won’t let that be the obstacle I told myself it was.
I pull out my laptop, opening the financial reports Cara sent earlier. Head office runs like clockwork these days. The team knows their jobs inside and out. And with video calls, remote work, travel...
My fingers tap against the steering wheel. The logistics will be complex, but I've handled worse—much worse. I'll need to talk to my brothers, figure out a schedule that lets me split time between here and Chicago. But I have to believe they'll support me.
The streetlight catches my reflection in the rearview mirror. I look different than I did at fifteen—we both do. But that spark when Blair's near, the way my heart races just thinking about seeing her tomorrow...that hasn't changed.
I'm done running. Done letting fear of what I might lose keep me from fighting for what I want. Blair needs time to process, to trust me again, and I'll give her that. But I'm not going anywhere.
This time, I'm staying right here.
This time, I'm following my heart.