Page 31 of Breathe
Chapter 12
“I’ll take you on a picnic,” Kane said.
“It’s the middle of November.”
“I’ll bring hand warmers—”
“I bet you will.”
“No! Real hand warmers. And thick blankets, and soup. I’ll take you up Blue Hill and ply you with hot rum.”
So here she was, dressed in her long, thick coat and hood (with long johns and a couple of other layers underneath), snuggled up close to Kane, a wool blanket straight out of the Highlands of Scotland wrapped around them both, looking out at the skyline of Boston from a comfortable fifteen miles away, while hikers passed them and, blissfully, completely ignored them.
One brunch, three dinners, a trip to the movies, and this picnic: that was the sum total of their dating life so far. And their photo had been in the papers each time. At first it was a cell phone photo taken at the diner, but by the end of that week Ellen knew that whenever they left a building, someone would be there to take their picture. She tried not to worry about it, but the taglines were always suggestive in a way that made her blush at the idea of her mother seeing them.
Today the rest of the world seemed far away. Kane was breathing easily as no more fires had been reported, the security cameras were going in as fast as they could hire the contractors, and she was getting used to him giving her looks that tried to melt her clothes right off her. Apart from the epic kisses, though, he hadn’t tried anything else, which she appreciated. Yes. Appreciated. She did not want to get him alone and arch her back so that he could get one of her breasts in his mouth.
“What?” he said.
“Umm.” Her cheeks were flaming again. “Nothing. So, to coin a phrase, do you come here often?”
“Used to. It’s the kind of hike you can take five whiny kids on, with a real view at the end to look forward to.” He got that look, again, that she’d sometimes seen flicker across his face: the boy who’d lost something important, and only occasionally remembered how much it hurt.
“Do you get to see your sisters much?”
“All the time.” He grinned. “More than they want, probably. Cat especially.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“Ah, she’s always been pissed at me for something or other. Now she invites me to Thanksgiving like it’s the biggest hardship to even acknowledge we’re related. But, you know, siblings, right?”
She didn’t really know. She and Adam had always got on well; in a family that sent the children to boarding school as a matter of course, their time together was precious. Still, everyone was different. And it wouldn’t matter, except that Kane looked so bewildered by Cat’s antagonism.
“There must be some reason why she’s mad at you.”
“Hell if I know what it is,” he said, looking out at the view with his hands wrapped around his thermos. “Even when we were kids... Dad and I would be talking about the business and she’d always interrupt.” He took a drink of the spiked apple cider. “But she’s got a lot to deal with too. She nursed Mom through her cancer. Basically raised Sam, Thea, and Megan after Mom died and I was so busy. She and Antonio had just gotten married; it can’t have been easy for her.”
She loved hearing him talk about his family. It brought out all the warmth in him that his playboy image worked so hard to erase. She pulled back her hood, leaned in, and kissed him. “Can’t have been easy for you either,” she said.
He held her eyes. “Well, you know me. Arrogant bastard that I am. I figured it out.”
Ellen let it go, but she hoped he knew that she knew he was barely covering up the pain.
• • •
In the end, it was Carl who called Kane. “The hell, man? Where have you been?” was the first thing he said.
Kane adjusted his carry-on and held the phone closer to his ear. “Right. Sorry.” He had called Carl the first weekend after the fires, as he’d planned, and Carl had left several messages for him after that, but he’d been too busy, or too distracted, or too involved with Ellen, to call him back.
“That’s okay,” said Carl. “You were starting to scare me.”
They often went over a month without catching up, so three weeks shouldn’t have bothered Carl. But there’d been another fire. Kane’s own fear was flaring up like the pictures on the local TV stations. And Carl, being Carl, would know this, and would want to help.
“I scare myself,” Kane replied. “You should see the faces on the building supervisors when I show up.”
An announcement over the loud speaker cut through the air. “Where are you?” said Carl.
“San Diego airport.”
