The Billionaire Boyfriend Proposal: A Kavanagh Family Novel (14 page)

It was a sweet, innocent time, just like
Blake had wanted. I could sense the easing of his tension. It was
like a boulder had been lifted from his shoulders. He smiled and
laughed, and teased me and Robbie. He said nothing about moving
back to his parents' place and I didn't mention it either even
though the danger from Skull seemed to have passed.

We achieved a lot at the summer house and by
the following week, the gas, electricity and water were connected.
The kitchen was half finished and the bathroom had been re-tiled.
The living room and bedroom had been painted and it was time to buy
furniture. I needed some feminine help so asked Becky to join me. I
was on my way to pick her up when Ellen walked up the drive. She
handed me some mail for Blake. I couldn't help noticing the one on
top was from the army and the corner was a little torn.

"Are you going out?" she asked. Her lips were
pursed as if she'd tasted something sour.

I nodded. "We need to furnish the summer
house."

She took back the letters. "Is that where
I'll find Blake?"

"Yes. Robbie's with him. Is everything all
right?"

She didn't answer, just strode past me. I
shrugged and got into the car.

***

I arrived home to find dinner almost ready
and Blake dressed in jeans and apron but no T-shirt. It was a look
I liked. He smelled of soap as he greeted me with a passionate
kiss, stroking his thumbs along my cheeks. It was a slow, deep kiss
that was more than a simple greeting ought to be. Something was
wrong.

I pulled away and searched his face, but he
walked off without meeting my gaze. "I'll bring in the things from
the car." He left and I blinked after him, a knot forming in my
stomach.

The mail Ellen had brought around was sitting
unopened on the table. All except the one from the army. It lay
open on top. I scanned it. I didn't mean to pry, but I had the
awful feeling that it was responsible for his change of mood and
Ellen's tight lips. She must have opened it and resealed it after
reading the contents. I read, and my heart dropped.

He was being recalled to active duty. He must
have been on some kind of extended leave all this time, and hadn't
quit after all.

"Do you want me to take these down to the
summer house?" Blake said from the doorway, a stack of cushions in
hand.

I nodded, unable to speak. He left and I
turned to the stove. I hardly noticed what was in the pot I was
stirring. My mind raced, trying to stay one step ahead of my
rampaging heartbeat.

He was leaving me. Again.

When had he been going to tell me? Why did he
let me think he'd quit? Should I confront him?

A thousand things raced through my mind, but
no matter how much I told myself there had to be a reasonable
explanation, the pit inside me yawned wider and deeper. That pit
had always been there, even after I learned that he loved me. It
was why I couldn't love him wholly in return. I'd been afraid of
this all along, afraid of falling into the pit and not being able
to get out again. Now my fear was threatening to bury me. It didn't
matter that he'd lied. All that mattered was that Blake was leaving
me. I would be alone again.

"Hey." His voice startled me and I jumped. I
heard him fold up the letter and tuck it back in the envelope, then
his arms circled me. He rested his chin on my shoulder. "Good
day?"

I nodded. Swallowed. I wanted to confront him
but decided not to. We were in a good place and I didn't want it to
end yet. Cowardly, yes, but necessary if I wanted to hold myself
together.

At least I still had Robbie. It would be
enough. It had to be enough. If Blake went on another dangerous
Middle Eastern tour, he might never come back.

Robbie joined us, saving me from giving away
my feelings to Blake. He served dinner and I listened to them tell
me what they'd achieved during the day. I told them what I'd
purchased. It was a normal conversation when I felt anything but
normal. I even managed to convince them that I needed an early
night.

"My head is pounding," I said. "Shopping
always gives me a headache."

"You want me to give you a massage?" Blake
asked, following me out of the kitchen after the dishes had been
done.

I shook my head. "I just need an early night.
Too many late ones lately have played havoc with my body."

He nodded, but didn't look convinced. I went
to my own bedroom and I heard him go to his a couple of hours
later. He didn't come and see if I was okay, thank goodness. I
didn't want to face him. I really did have a headache. And a
heartache.

***

I awoke to the sound of smashing glass.

I leapt out of bed and threw on my robe.
Footsteps raced past my door and pounded down the stairs. Blake. I
ran after him and came to a halt halfway down. Several youths stood
in the living room. They'd climbed in through the window they'd
broken. I counted nine including Skull. He stood at the front,
flanked by his gang, a switchblade in hand. They were all armed
with knives or clubs, but thankfully no guns.

Blake stood on the bottom step dressed in
T-shirt and jeans, his hands out at his sides like a cowboy ready
to draw. But he was unarmed.

"Get back upstairs," he said quietly.

My bag was in the kitchen, my phone with it.
There was a phone handset upstairs in the hall. Maybe I should try
to get to it.

"Stay where you are," Skull snarled. "Where I
can see you."

"Go upstairs, Cassie," Blake said again.

Skull bared his teeth. "Sweetheart, if you
don't do as I say, I swear you won't recognize your boyfriend when
you get back."

Oh Jesus.
I gripped the balustrade
hard. There was no way Blake could fight them all off on his own.
"What do you want?" I said.

"My brother."

"He doesn't want to go back with you. He
doesn't want that life anymore. He made a choice—"

"He has no fucking choice!" Spittle foamed at
the corner of his mouth. He wiped it away with the back of his
hand. "He's my brother. He belongs with me. With us. His
family."

Family. I eyed each of the youths. Two looked
young, maybe sixteen, but the rest seemed to be eighteen or over.
Their faces were grimy, grizzly, their clothing torn and dirty. One
of the younger gang members had holes in his shoes, his big toes
poking through. Despite their ragged, miserable conditions, none
looked like they wanted to abandon Skull. They stood
straight-backed behind him, their knuckles white around their
blades and clubs. There was fight in their eyes and a determination
that chilled my bones.

The knot inside my stomach tightened. Even an
asshole like Skull had a family, and that family was his gang, and
that gang would hurt Blake—us—if we didn't hand over the final
member of their family, the one who completed their unit.

Robbie. He didn't belong with me in my house,
he belonged with his brother. Maybe he could help turn Skull's life
around or protect the younger members of the gang. Maybe he could
do some good. Or maybe he couldn't. Either way, it wasn't up to me
or Skull to determine his fate. It was up to him.

"We're his family now," Blake said.

No, we're not
, I almost told him, but
Skull got in first. He spat the words back at us. "Hand him
over."

"He's nearly eighteen," Blake persisted. "He
can make up his own mind."

Skull growled like an animal on the prowl. He
took a step forward and slashed with his knife. Blake dodged back a
step out of his way and the blade swiped through the air. The rest
of the gang advanced.

Panic seized my limbs. Blake was trapped on
the staircase. He could not fight them all, but he would try and he
would keep on trying with the last breath in his body to stop them
reaching me.

"Stop it!" I screamed as Skull slashed
again.

Blake once more leapt out of the way then he
kicked out, landing his foot on Skull's chest.

Skull reeled back, but was caught by one of
his friends. He readied himself to come at Blake again.
Oh God,
oh God
. I had no choice. I had to call the police before he
hurt Blake. Nothing else mattered.

My heart in my throat, I turned and ran up
the stairs. But Robbie's voice halted my progress. "Stop!" I
thought he was shouting at me, but I turned and realized he was
pleading with his brother.

Skull stopped but didn't take his gaze off
Blake. "You're coming with us," he told Robbie. "If not, your new
friend will be shredded to bits. Her too, after we have some
fun."

"Don't touch her," Robbie snapped. "Don't
touch either of them." He blew out a breath. "I'll come with
you."

"No," Blake said, his voice calm. Too
calm.

Skull's lips peeled back. "You lose, buddy.
Too bad."

"This is not about winning and losing. This
is about your brother's
life
. Do you really care so little
about him that you want him to be like you? Like them?" Blake
rarely got so riled up. He was the sensible, level-headed one, slow
to anger. But I knew he had a temper too. It had appeared in the
protest when he'd almost attacked a policeman who'd tried to arrest
me and it was appearing again. He looked as if he'd throw caution
to the wind and take them all on.

I came up behind him and rested my hand on
his shoulder. His muscles were knotted and bunched. "Please don't
take Robbie away," I said to Skull through my tears. "He doesn't
want to go."

Skull looked away from us. His chest rose and
fell with his rapid breathing. His hands tightened around the
knife. "He knows who his real family is."

My tears wouldn't stop. I tried so hard to
turn them off, but I couldn't. It was like a dam inside me had
collapsed and the well of sorrow that it had held back was
released. I knew it was stupid. Robbie wasn't my family. He didn't
belong with me. He had his own free will and if he chose to return
with Skull then so be it. My level of sadness didn't make
sense.

"Robbie, you don't have to go," Blake said
again.

"I do," Robbie said. "You know I do."

Blake folded me in his arms and I sobbed into
his chest.

"Hey," Robbie said quietly, his voice ragged.
"Be sure to finish the project. The closet needs special attention
right now."

I heard them all trudge out followed by the
squeal of tires and the roar of engines. I stayed within the circle
of Blake's arms. He stroked my hair, my back, and murmured soothing
words in my ear, but I kept crying until I had no tears left. We
remained on the stairs until I felt a cool breeze through the
broken window and pulled away.

Blake pushed my hair off my face and frowned.
"You going to be okay?"

I nodded. "Sorry. I over-reacted."

"No, you didn't. He's a good kid and you've
gotten used to having him around. We both have. I'm going to miss
him too."

Then why wasn't he crying? Why was I being so
irrationally sensitive about it? Robbie would be okay. Skull
wouldn't hurt him or want to see him get into trouble. He would
protect him like he'd done so far. Yet telling myself that didn't
make me feel any better. It didn't banish the loneliness creeping
up on me and threatening to overwhelm me. Today Robbie was gone—how
long before Blake left too?

CHAPTER 10

"He wanted us to keep working down here, but
there's no point," I said. "He's not coming back." We'd spent the
rest of the night clearing away the broken glass and boarding up
the window. As soon as it was light, we ate breakfast and returned
to the summer house. Blake had wanted me to get some more sleep,
but I couldn't. I was wide awake and too shaken.

"You have to believe he'll return," he said,
rubbing the back of my neck. "He'll talk Skull around. He's
persuasive like that."

"Skull won't let him go so soon after getting
him back."

"He can't keep him forever."

"But he can threaten to harm people Robbie
cares about if he doesn't stay."

Blake kissed my forehead. "Why not take the
day off? Go get a massage or walk along the beach. It's a nice
day."

I shook my head. "I don't want to. I want to
stay here." In case Robbie could convince Skull to let him go.
"Blake, it's Thursday. You've got to go to The Point this
afternoon."

"Not this week."

"Why not? Did one of the others call it
off?"

"No. I'm going to stick around here."

For me. He was giving up his weekly surfing
afternoon with his brothers to spend time with me. "I'll be fine,
Blake. Don't worry."

He scoffed. "I'm not doing it for you, Cass.
I want to finish the cottage in case Robbie returns."

I didn't believe him for a second, but he
walked off and I doubted he would listen to my protests. I would
have to apologize to Ash and the others when I saw them.

I still felt fragile after crying so much,
but the thought of working on the summer house all day helped keep
further tears at bay. It might stop my mind from wandering.

"Robbie mentioned something about the
closet," I said, heading into the bedroom. The bed was unmade, his
things still in the drawers and hanging in the closet. It looked
fine to me. "Was he doing something with it?"

"No." Blake inspected the doors. "He helped
me make it. As far as I can see nothing more needs to be done."

"Then what was he talking about?"

We looked at one another and I could see the
same idea enter his head at the moment it entered mine. "Do you
think—?"

"Maybe."

I checked the pockets of the hanging shirts
and jeans. Nothing. Blake lifted up shoes and felt inside them then
we both skimmed our hands over the base, the sides and top of the
closet.

"Here," I said, pulling off a piece of paper
stuck to the back wall, hidden behind the clothes.