I hear my stepfather murmuring and arguing with someone, but then Blane walks into the dining room, followed by his enraged father.
“You’re not welcome here,” he hisses and I blush at the thought of tearing the two men apart.
“I’ve come to apologize,” Blane says softly, and I finally risk taking a look at him.
He looks good – better than a few weeks ago, that’s for sure. He’s cleaned up, looks healthy, and – the most welcome of all changes – there’s no trashy girl hanging from his arm.
“Say what you need to say,” his father sighs, but his eyes are stern. “And then get out.
Blane, Aiden and I all flinch at his harsh words, but finally, Blane nods, coming over to where I’m sitting and pulling out a chair next to me. I look up at him through my thick lashes, my heart beating wildly in my chest.
“Emme,” he begins, the one word melting my hear immediately. I could listen to him murmuring my name all day long … I shake my head to get the thought out. It’s not right.
Instead, I look up questioningly, not saying a word. I don’t think I could get anything out, anyway. Suddenly, the chicken we’ve been having has dried up my throat and it’s getting harder to breathe.
“Emme,” Blane repeats, finally rasing his gaze to meet my hurt eyes. “I know what I did was wrong. I thought it was just something fun, a little tease … Something to take the tension off.”
I’m mesmerized by those steel grey eyes … I could stare into them forever. So cold, with warmth spreading through them when he looks at me – only me.
So different from Aiden’s, yet so alike.
“It was nothing but a bad joke,” Blane finished. Finally, he takes my hand in his and I try hard to stop my hand from shaking, but it’s trembling like a leaf. Reassuringly, Blane places his palm over mine and smiles at me. And I’m a goner, because that smile has always managed to charm me into oblivion.
“It’s okay,” I whisper softly, offering a weak smile.
“Well then!” Aiden exclaims all of a sudden, and all our eyes go to him. “Shall we proceed with lunch?” he asks sarcastically, refusing to look at his brother and focusing his burning gaze on me instead.
I fidget in my seat, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden.
“Yes,” my stepfather says, a certain softness in his voice. He places a heavy hand on Blane’s shoulder and father and son exchange glances.
“Will you join us for the meal, son?” he asks gruffly.
I hold my breath and steal a glance at my mother, who seems utterly gobsmacked. Aiden has been having Sunday lunch with us for ever, but Blane hasn’t been around for years.
So we’re all taken by surprise, when he nods with a small smile.
“I would love to.”
Quickly, another place is set by the housekeeper, a plate placed in front of my stepbrother, filled with delicious food.
I think I’m the only one to notice Aiden’s displeasure at the sight of his brother. I sigh inwardly – he’s so protective of me, he even worries about his own twin hurting my feelings …
But I can’t worry. I’m blissfully happy in this moment, and I let myself experience the feeling, my yearning gaze flittering to Blane every so often …
***
After lunch, everyone settles in the day room, but Blane asks me if I’d like to go for a walk. I check with my mother to see if she agrees, and she gives permission, albeit reluctantly. I follow Blane out of the door, trying to ignore the burning sensation of Aiden’s eyes boring into my back.
Blane and I walk wordlessly along the strip of beach next to our home, enjoying our companionable silence. As nice as that is, I can’t ignore the unsteady beat of my heart, the want for him to touch me, kiss me … Do all the wrong things in all the right places.
“Emme,” he says after a while, when we come to a stop next to the deck.
“Yes?” I whisper softly, looking up at him.
Blane fidgets nervously, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He can’t quite meet my eye.
“Why don’t you look at me, Blane?” I ask softly, and he slowly, so slowly, raises his eyes to meet mine like it pains him to do so. And when we finally look at each other, he lets me see all the pain, the regret, the hurt he’s suffered.
I gasp.
I don’t know why, but with a single look, he’s bared his entire soul to me.
And I can tell he’s hurting.
Hurting bad.
My hand finds his cheek and I stroke it softly, whispering sweet nothings to make him feel better. It seems to help somewhat, and he soon relaxes into my embrace.
“You know I didn’t mean to hurt you, right?” he asks desperately and I nod in his shoulder. “I would never,” he continues fiercely.
“Why did you do that then?” I ask.
“I was stupid,” he sighs. “There’s no good reason. I wanted to get a reaction from you. Wanted to see your face flush.” He steps away from me, grinning widely, and it’s so good to see him smile. “I always liked seeing you blush,” he says wickedly, pulling on one of my long braids.
We stare at each other, smiling softly. And I wish, just for one moment, he could forget about me being his little sister, that he could pull me close … Pull on my hair in an entirely different way.
He leans closer.
“Emme,” he whispers again.
“Mmm,” I reply, too stricken to form complete words.
His hand finds the small of my back, touching it softly, hesitantly. Our touch is so electric it almost makes me bounce back, but I force myself to stay in the same spot, savouring it.
His lips are so close to mine …
“Emme, it’s getting dark!”
My mother’s voice cuts through the moment and my eyes meet Blane’s. The moment is over, and I think I see a flash of regret in his eyes …
But then he moves in and gives me a peck on the cheek. So brotherly.