shoving a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I should have told you before.”
“Told me what?”
“It hasn’t happened in a long time,” he replied. “But sometimes I get nightmares, the kind I had all the time when I first got back from being deployed. And it’s best to not touch me in order to wake me. Better to just call my name.”
“But why now?” I asked. “We’ve slept together before and this hasn’t happened.”
Blane looked at me, and I knew I wasn’t going to like what he had to say.
“The position they offered me, Kat,” he said. “It’s an opportunity unlike anything else. I could make a difference, really help other SEALs. It just has me thinking. Considering. Remembering.”
“You’d have to be deployed again,” I said.
He nodded. “But only for six months.”
Six months. It sounded like a long time when someone you loved would be in harm’s way. I reached for the ice pack and held it against my jaw so I wouldn’t have to look at Blane.
“I haven’t decided what I’m going to do yet,” he said quietly.
“Why not?”
He didn’t answer, so I glanced at him. Our eyes caught and held. He reached out, brushing his fingers through my hair.
“Because of you.”
Blane’s answer, so simply and honestly given, made relief swell inside me. So I was a consideration in his decision after all. I leaned against his chest. His arms wrapped around me, his chin resting on top of my head.
When I knew I could speak without my voice breaking, I asked, “So when do you have to decide?”
His shoulders lifted slightly in a small shrug. “A few weeks. I have to get through this case first.”
I stiffened, drawing back out of his arms. “This guy you’re defending. He’s innocent, right?”
Something shifted in Blane’s eyes as I looked at him, waiting for my answer. Finally, he shook his head. “No. He’s not.”
Appalled, I pulled myself out of his grasp. “You’ve got to be joking! Why would you defend a rapist? I get that you’re a defense attorney, but to defend the guy when you know he’s guilty?”
Blane’s jaw tightened. “Sometimes I have to do things I don’t necessarily want, or like, to do. That includes defending people who are guilty, and this is one of those times.”
I jumped to my feet, putting some distance between us. “Why this guy?” I rounded on him. “Is it because of his uncle? That rich guy with all the political connections?”
Blane hesitated. “Partly,” he admitted.
“You’d defend a rapist just to further your political career?” My anger waned in the face of my dismay.
Blane stood, approaching me. “I didn’t say it was to help my career,” he said carefully.
“Then why?” I hoped his explanation would make all the difference.
The words seemed hard for Blane to get out, but finally he said, “I… can’t tell you.”
My jaw dropped in surprise before anger and frustration surged. “What do you mean, you can’t tell me? Can’t or won’t?”
“Won’t. You just have to trust me, Kat.”
“That’s rich,” I said. “You’re telling me that I just have to trust you with something you won’t even tell me? Trust is a two-way street.”
“So you’re telling me that you don’t trust me?” he bit out.
“I’m only dishing back what you’re handing out, Blane,” I shot back. “In case you’ve forgotten, we broke up because of something you didn’t tell me, and now you’re doing it again!”
“This isn’t the same thing at all,” he denied angrily. He turned away, stalking to the window and looking outside, his arms crossed over his chest.
I had the feeling he was trying to take a break, to ratchet down the escalating tension between us. It worked. I took a breath, then another. Going over to him, I slid my arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his back and leaning into him.
“I don’t want to fight,” I said quietly.
Blane turned, settling his hands on my waist. The lines of strain I’d
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