All Kade could do was make a clean break from them both . . . and hope they put the pieces back together. Blane and Kathleen would cling to each other. Kade knew Blane loved her, and she loved him. They could forget about Kade and be happy, raise a family . . .

The thought made him want to eat a bullet.

Inside, it was dark save for a light burning in the library. Kade pushed open the door, unsurprised to see Blane sitting at the piano. He wasn’t playing, though. He just sat, his body resting on his arms folded on top.

Kade committed the scene to memory, recalling the many times over the years that he’d sat listening to Blane play. It had always amazed him, the way Blane’s fingers had flown over the keys, producing melodies that spoke of emotions too powerful for words.

Blane seemed to sense his presence, turning his body to face Kade, his expression blank rather than welcoming.

Well, what had he expected? Kathleen had been there. Kade should be glad. Blane’s anger might make things easier. But he felt far from glad.

Glancing around, Kade realized the room was missing a lot of stuff. He frowned, seeing some broken glass on the floor, in one corner. Blane had cleaned up, but obviously hadn’t gotten it all.

“I see you went all rock star on this place,” Kade said. He’d only seen Blane do that once before. It had been a long time ago. “You missed the corner. Mona’s going to be upset.”

“What do you want, Kade?” Blane asked, ignoring his comment.

“I hear you’re thinking of throwing in the towel on the whole governor thing,” Kade said.

Blane stared at him, his face utterly expressionless. “That’s why you’re here?”

“All I’ve heard for years is how much you wanted it,” Kade said. “Seems pretty stupid to give it up when you’re so close.”

Blane shrugged. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Besides, my poll numbers have tanked since the arrest. I don’t have a chance in hell of winning that race.”

Kade cleared his throat. “That’s easily fixed,” he said. “People love a fucking wedding. Get married.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Blane spat, anger flashing to the surface and obliterating the calm demeanor it seemed he’d only been pretending to have. “Or are you just here to rub it in? Kat told me you and she are leaving tomorrow.”

“She’s half right,” Kade replied. “I’m leaving. Not her. And it’s tonight.”

Blane frowned. “What?”

Kade walked to the sideboard and poured himself an inch of the scotch that Blane always kept there, downing it in one swallow.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he answered, keeping his gaze averted from Blane’s.

“Changed your mind about what exactly?” Blane persisted, a note of warning in his voice.

Kade forced a laugh. “Do you really think I’m cut out for dirty diapers and a fucking minivan? Not to mention tying myself to one woman for the rest of my life. Please.” He poured more scotch, using it to wash down the bitter taste of bile in his throat.

That statement seemed to ricochet around the room, fading into a charged silence.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Blane ground out.

A fine tremor went through Kade’s hand at the leashed fury in Blane’s voice. He still didn’t look at him, instead carefully setting down the crystal glass he held. The crystal had belonged to Blane’s mother and Kade didn’t want it broken.

“What the fuck would I do with a wife and kid,” Kade said, his voice flat and cold. “Granted, she’s an incredible lay, am I right? But there are plenty of those.” His eyes slipped shut as agony seared his chest. The words felt like acid on his tongue. He braced himself for what he knew was coming, and he wasn’t surprised when Blane suddenly hauled him around to face him, his grip like a vise on his arm.

“What the hell, Kade!” Blane hissed, his eyes flashing with fury. “You’re in love with her. You told me. You told her. Now you’ve got her, she’s yours, and you’re tossing it away because she got pregnant?”

“I didn’t sign up to be a dad,” Kade snapped, jerking away. “And I’m not changing my entire life because some chick can’t remember to take her fucking birth control pill.”

“This isn’t ‘some chick’—it’s Kathleen!” Blane yelled. He seemed to get himself under control with effort. “You took her away from me, got her to fall in love with you. You cannot just leave her. You know what Dad did to your mom. Why would you do the same to Kathleen?”

Kade’s eyes narrowed. “I can do whatever the fuck I want,” he said. “Maybe she’s just not as interesting now that she’s no longer a challenge. You love her so much, care about the brat she’s carrying, then you marry her. That’ll kill two birds with one stone, right? You’re welcome.”

Blane’s face paled and it took everything Kade had not to crumple beneath the disgust and contempt in Blane’s eyes.

He couldn’t take any more. He had to get out of there.

Jerking out of Blane’s grip, Kade walked to the door, careful to keep his steps unhurried. Digging in his pocket, he fished out a folded piece of paper and tossed it carelessly onto the coffee table.

“Here’s an account with some money,” he said. “She can use that to take care of herself and—” To his horror, his voice broke and he abruptly cut himself off. Thankfully, Blane didn’t seem to notice. When Blane spoke again, his tone was low and threatening.

“You walk out that door—you leave her—and you’re no longer my brother.”

Kade’s hand was on the knob but the words made him freeze. He couldn’t stop himself from looking back at Blane. Their gazes met.

Words he shouldn’t say fell out of Kade’s mouth anyway. “Remember what you promised me,” he said, his voice much too rough. Then he was out the door and in his car, Blane’s house becoming a distant blur in the rearview mirror.

The late-night breeze drifted past Kade as he stood in the shadows, watching Kathleen’s window. He’d left Blane’s house an hour ago, but hadn’t been able to get farther than the city limits before turning back.

Placing a call to the woman he used as both maid and housekeeper, he gave her instructions on shutting down his apartment—what to put in storage, what to throw away. He didn’t know when, or if, he’d ever be back.

His conscience, a part of him Kade had thought long since dead, was stirring, urging him to go up and knock on Kathleen’s door. But what would he say? That he’d just come to say goodbye? Kade knew the truth—if he walked in her door, he wouldn’t have the strength to leave, and so he’d be signing her death warrant.

A car drove up and Kade watched as Blane got out. He took the stairs two at a time, then stood outside her door, hesitating. Kade had left him with the shit job of telling Kathleen. Hopefully, making Blane the messenger would work to bring them back together. If there was one thing that was certain, it was that Blane deserved to get the girl—not Kade.

Finally, Blane knocked and a moment later, Kathleen answered.

Kade strained his neck, trying to see her around Blane’s form blocking the doorway, but he didn’t even get a glimpse of her. Blane entered the apartment, the door closing behind him.

And that was that.

Kade leaned against the tree behind him, the rough bark of the trunk abrading his back through the thin T-shirt he wore. He should leave. Blane was there and Kade didn’t want or need to see Kathleen with him.

His mind told him this, but the masochist inside him wouldn’t let him leave, forcing him to stay and watch. Would Blane stay the night? Would he sleep in her bed?

The idea of Kathleen making love with Blane had Kade shoving a hand through his hair, his skin practically itching with frustration, his muscles tensing as though preparing for a fight. He couldn’t get the picture out of his head, his imagination painting Kathleen’s naked body in vivid detail beneath Blane’s. The sounds she made, the way her legs would wrap around his waist . . .