38. Ransom
38
RANSOM
I burst out of the diner, my feet pounding across the cracked pavement of the town square. My heart races, but not from the running. The thought of my family overwhelming Blair makes my stomach twist. Kade went for a bathroom break way too long ago, and I didn't notice. He could have destroyed everything by now.
Twenty-five years of waiting, dreaming, comparing every woman to her—and now that I finally have a chance, my family could scare her off. I love them, but subtlety isn't exactly their strong suit.
The familiar McKenna's Auto sign comes into view. Kade and Jonas are running down the sidewalk, screaming, something small and furry chasing them. I have to dodge through a pack of seniors as they hurry out of the square. I have a second to wonder why they're running, but I honestly don't care. I have to get to Blair.
My chest tightens as I remember how quickly Blair left the diner when they arrived. That look in her eyes—like a startled deer ready to bolt. I get it. This is all moving so fast. But how do I pump the brakes when every cell in my body screams that I can't lose her again?
Janey and Becca cross the street from McKenna's and meet me in the square. "Shit," I say, cupping the back of my neck. "You already got to her, didn't you?" Beyond the women's heads, I lock eyes with Blair. Every muscle in my body tenses, ready to chase after her if she runs, but like she read my mind, she shakes her head and leans her back against the wall of the garage.
"We didn't say anything bad," Becca holds up her hands. "Just girl talk." Girl talk? That's fucking terrifying. I don't even want to know what Becca's brand of girl talk involves. My best guess?
Knives and cupcakes.
"Yeah, we were nice." Janey's eyes dart to the side. Maybe they were nice, but there's definitely something else there. Janey’s not much for lying.
I drag my hand down my face. "Listen, I love you both, but I can't let you fuck this up for me. She's not used to us."
"If she can't handle us—" Becca starts.
"Then maybe she's not tough enough," Janey finishes. "You need someone who can stick, Ransom. Not someone who runs at the first sign of friendly interference."
My jaw clenches. "You don't know what you're talking about. Blair's dealing with stuff you can't imagine. She's tough as hell."
"Then tell us," Becca crosses her arms. "Help us understand."
I shake my head. The weight of Maggie's secret sits heavy in my chest. "It's not my story to tell. Just trust me when I say she's got responsibilities that would break most people. And she handles them with more grace than anyone I've ever met."
"But—" Janey starts.
"No buts. I need you both to back off. Give her space. Let her get used to all this at her own pace." I tug them both into my chest, hugging them to me, then press a kiss to the top of their heads. "Go get your husbands. And trust me to handle this on my own. Please."
"You said please. To me." Becca grins and leans back. "Did that hurt?"
"You have no fucking idea."
She cackles and leans in for a second, hugging me back. "We really didn't say anything bad. In fact, I told her you were a catch." She pulls back and smooths her hand over her ponytail. "And that your rash is nearly cleared up. Byeee!" Then she turns and bolts.
Janey's hands are over her mouth, just her glittering eyes peeking at me. "She's crazy," she mumbles into her hands.
"Not news."
"She didn't mention your rash. I um... Sorry. None of my business."
"I don't have a fucking rash!"
"Oh. Good. That's good. I'm just going to—" she waves towards Becca's retreating form and takes a few steps away. "For what it's worth, I can see what drew you to her. She's got a core of steel. But she also seems so… tired. I think she could use someone to ease the burden, even if she's not the type to ask."
Janey hurries after Becca, leaving me alone. Finally. My family's scattered around town, shopping and doing fuck knows what else. I don't really care. My feet feel heavy as I cross the street, each step bringing me closer to her. The late morning sun catches in her hair, turning the edges red. She's leaning against the wall, arms crossed, studying me with those storm-grey eyes that have haunted my dreams for twenty-five years.
I stop a few feet away. My fingers itch to reach for her, to pull her against my chest and feel her heart beat next to mine. To bury my face in her hair and breathe her in. But I keep my hands at my sides, letting her set the pace.
She watches me, her expression unreadable. I wish I could crack open her skull and peek inside, see what she's thinking. Is she as affected by my presence as I am by hers? Does her skin hum with electricity when I'm near?
Maybe she doesn't feel any of it. That's the worst thing I could imagine. That I'm in this alone, and there's no chance for us.
The silence stretches between us, comfortable yet charged with possibility. There's more yelling in the distance, but neither of us breaks eye contact.
Finally, Blair pushes off the wall. "I should head home and check on Maggie and Max." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, a gesture so familiar it makes my chest ache. "Want to walk with me?"
"Yes," I say, with not even a millisecond of hesitation. I don't care if I sound eager. Let her see how much I want to be near her. Hiding anything from her at this point would work against me.
Blair's lips curl into a small smile, and we start down the sidewalk. Her shoulder brushes against my bicep with each step, sending jolts of electricity through my body. I stuff my hands in my pockets to keep from reaching for her.
"I'm sorry about my family showing up like this. They mean well, but subtlety isn't exactly?—"
"They're protective of you. I get it." Blair's voice carries that familiar calm. "Becca and Janey seem... interesting."
"Did they say something to upset you? Because I'll?—"
"Ransom." She stops walking, turning those storm-grey eyes on me. "You should know by now that I'm not the type to let anyone influence what I want. Especially not two women I just met today."
My heart skips. "And what do you want?"
"That's the problem." She starts walking again. "I've built a life here. It works. I'm not sure I want to disrupt that."
"We don't have to put pressure on anything." The words taste like ash in my mouth, but I force them out. If I had my way, I’d be putting a ring on her finger this afternoon. "We can take it slow, figure things out as we go. But isn't the chance at something great worth the effort?"
We're passing the firehouse when movement catches my eye. A guy in navy pants and a t-shirt waves at Blair from inside. She lifts her hand in a small wave back.
My jaw clenches so hard it hurts. "Adam?"
"Yes."
"I really hate that guy." I meet his eyes, and imagine strangling him to death, slowly, with his own intestines. He shakes his head and turns back to the hose he was coiling.
The urge to march into that firehouse and introduce my fist to his face is almost overwhelming.
"You're angry." Blair's eyes narrow. "You have no right to be angry."
"I know I don't." The words scrape out of my throat. "But fuck, Blair. Adam?"
"What's wrong with Adam?"
"Nothing. Everything." I run my hands through my hair, tugging at the strands. "He got to be with you in ways I never..."
"Don't." Her voice carries that steel edge I remember. "You don't get to be jealous. You left."
"To protect you. And I've regretted it every day since." I step closer, close enough to see the flecks of blue in her grey eyes. "I wanted it to be me. Your first time should have been with me."
"My first time?" She laughs, but there's no humor in it. "You think I waited until Adam?"
The words hit like a physical blow. "No, I... I just meant—" But I did think that. Even though I imagined she might have gotten married and had a family, I never let myself picture her making those kids. Or loving any other man. It's selfish as fuck, but I wanted her to love me, and only me, always.
"What? That you wish you'd been my first? That you had that claim on me?" She crosses her arms. "I was almost eighteen when you left, Ransom. Young and hurt and angry. Do you really think I spent the next twenty-five years saving myself for you?"
"Christ, no. That's not what I..." I drag my hand down my face. "I wanted us to experience that together. To learn each other. To be each other's firsts. It's stupid and possessive and I have no right, but knowing Adam gets to touch you now..."
"Gets to touch me?" Her eyes flash. "Nobody gets to touch me. I choose who I'm with. And right now, I choose Adam. Because he's uncomplicated. Because he doesn't make demands. Because he doesn't make me feel like my world is spinning off its axis every time he looks at me."
My control snaps. I grab Blair's shoulders and pull her against me, my fingers pressing into her skin through her shirt. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you feel nothing when I touch you."
Her breath catches. This close, I can see her pulse jumping in her throat. "Ransom?—"
"Tell me Adam makes your heart race like this." I slide one hand up to cup her neck, my thumb brushing over that wild pulse. “Tell me simple and uncomplicated is better than this.”
"Stop." But her hands fist in my shirt, pulling me closer instead of pushing away.
"You're trying to push me away with words, but your body's screaming something else entirely." I lean down until our foreheads touch. "I feel it too. Like electricity under my skin. Like I can't breathe right unless you're near me."
"It doesn't matter what I feel."
"It matters to me." I brush my lips against her temple. "It's always been you, Blair. Even when I was trying to forget you, even when I was with other women — it was always you I wanted."
She shudders against me. "You’re so confusing."
"I’m just being honest." My fingers thread through her hair beneath the braid. "Tell me you don't feel more with me than you've ever felt with anyone else. Tell me I'm wrong."
"I can't." The words come out broken, barely a whisper. "You know I can't."
Blair steps back, breaking our connection. The loss of her warmth hits like a physical blow. She tosses her braid back over her shoulder and starts walking again.
My eyes drift to the firehouse where Adam still stands, watching. He shakes his head, a hint of a smile playing at his lips, then disappears back inside. Smug bastard.
I follow Blair, keeping a few steps behind, trying to get my body and emotions under control. The walk to Maggie's feels endless.
Max sits in the front yard, surrounded by dirt and wielding a plastic bucket like a weapon. Water sloshes over the sides as he dumps it into a hole.
"What're you doing there, buddy?"
"Making quicksand." Max doesn't look up from his work. "For the zombies."
"Zombies?"
"They only come out at night. But they're stupid. They'll fall right in." He pats the mud with satisfaction. "Plus, worms like it."
Blair's lips twitch. "Does your mom know you're making zombie traps?"
"She said no explosives. This isn't explosives."
I can't help but laugh. "Kid's got a point."
"I'll check on Maggie." Blair heads inside, leaving me with Max.
"Want to help?" He holds out a muddy shovel.
"Sure." I crouch down beside him. "But why zombies? Why not... dinosaurs?"
"Dinosaurs are extinct. Duh." He rolls his eyes. "Plus, they'd just step over it. Their legs are too long. You need something human-sized."
"Smart thinking."
"I watch a lot of Discovery Channel when Mom's sleeping." He leans in close. "Don't tell Blair. She thinks I only watch cartoons."
Cartoons and reality TV. "Your secret's safe with me."
"MAGGIE!" Blair's scream pierces through the house, raw with fear and devastation.
Max's shovel hits the ground with a thud. My heart stops.
Oh God. Please no.