“You really think that’s a good idea?” Blane asked, tipping his head ever so slightly toward me.

Kade’s eyes met mine. “You know Branna and I have a history,” he said.

I wondered just what that history included. I’d known for a while that Branna was in love with him. Had they slept together? Were they lovers? Maybe friends with benefits? Kade had never said and I hadn’t asked. I wasn’t about to humiliate myself by doing so now.

“Yeah, I know you have a history,” I said stiffly. “I was wondering more about the present.”

I turned away and headed back to my bedroom. I hadn’t forgotten how Kade had said us getting together had been a mistake. Now, with Branna by his side for the immediate future, I wondered if my chances to convince him otherwise had just gone up in smoke.

The now usual morning routine of retching before my shower had me feeling more depressed and tired than usual. I wandered into the kitchen once I was dressed, trying to think of something that sounded good despite my temperamental tummy.

Blane was already in there, leaning against the counter and sipping a cup of coffee.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

I opened the refrigerator, morosely eyeing the contents. “Tired,” I said glumly. “Where’s Kade?” I’d noticed his absence when I’d passed by the living room. Maybe he’d decided to share Branna’s bed, I thought bitchily.

“He went to pick up some supplies for the trip,” Blane replied. “Branna went with him.”

Of course she had. I closed the refrigerator door, any desire to try and eat something now completely gone.

“I like your house,” Blane said, changing the subject. He handed me a cup of coffee. “It’s very . . . you.”

That made me smile a little. “Thanks.” The coffee smelled good and I took a cautious sip. I wanted to sit outside, craving the peaceful feeling it gave me. “Want to sit on the porch with me?”

Blane smiled. “Sure.”

He followed me outside and sat down next to me on the wicker couch. The blanket I’d left was still there and he tucked it around me against the early morning chill. We sat in companionable silence and I let out a deep sigh.

“I’m worried about you,” Blane said after a while.

I had finished the last of my coffee and was setting aside the mug when he spoke. I glanced up at him, frowning. “Why? I’m fine.”

“I’m really proud of you, that you moved back home, bought this house, and seem bound and determined to have this baby alone,” he said. “But I know you need more than money and a house.” His brushed my hair back with his hand. “You need Kade.”

I looked away, unsure what to say.

“I was so pissed at him,” Blane continued. “When he came by the house, told me he was leaving. I was still reeling and wasn’t thinking straight, or I’d have known right away he was full of shit, the things he said.”

“What did he say?” I asked.

But Blane shook his head. “You don’t want to know. Robert has played me for a fool before and I should’ve realized he’d have found another way, through Kade.”

“Kade said Keaston’s worried I’m going to come out of the woodwork in ten years with your love child or something,” I said. “And even when I asked him why he didn’t just tell him the baby’s not yours, he said it had been a mistake, me and him.” Repeating Kade’s words made my stomach twist.

Blane sighed. “He needs you, whether he wants to admit it or not.” He lifted my chin in his hand and our eyes met. “If you don’t fight for him, if you just let him go, then he won’t survive. I saw it in his eyes. He came back to Indy to say goodbye to me, to you, and I’m sure whatever job he took next, it would have been his last.”

I stared at Blane in shock. “I—I . . . he told me he wanted to say goodbye,” I stammered, “but I didn’t think he meant . . .” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

“I think Kade is hanging by a very thin thread,” Blane continued. “We’ll go to DC. I’ll have it out with my uncle. And you have to convince Kade you need him more than he hates himself.”

I swallowed. This had to be hard for Blane. “I’m sorry,” I said, “about you and me—”

“This isn’t about me or the past,” he interrupted gently. “This is about you, Kade, and the baby. I’ll be fine.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I want my brother alive, Kat. And you’re the only one who can convince him he’s worth saving. Not even I can do that.”

Tears swam in my eyes. I didn’t deserve how nice Blane was being to me, didn’t deserve him still caring about me after all we’d been through. But I was grateful for it.

I leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his waist in a hug. He hugged me back and I felt his lips brush the top of my head.

Kade suddenly stepped outside. When he saw me in Blane’s arms, his eyes turned cold and hard. “So sorry to interrupt a tender moment, but we need to get going.”

“You’re right,” Blane said, releasing me and getting to his feet. “Kathleen’s been sick and hasn’t eaten, but we can just grab her something on the road, right?”

I frowned. That didn’t sound like Blane, but he was already heading inside.

Kade’s head swiveled back, his gaze pinning me. “You were sick again today?”

“I’m sick every day,” I corrected him. “The nausea wears off after a while, then I can eat.”

Kade frowned. “But you can drink coffee?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t say it made sense.”

“I don’t want to leave until you get something to eat,” he said. “What sounds good? I’ll go get it.”

I was taken aback by Kade’s concern, then abruptly realized what Blane had done. Kade had always taken care of me when I’d needed someone to, so Blane was playing off that now.

“Gosh, I don’t know,” I said. I stood, then faked a little stumble. Kade was there instantly, an arm around my waist. “Wow, I guess I didn’t realize my blood sugar was so low,” I said. Good gravy, I really sucked at this, but Kade seemed to buy it. I leaned on him, wrapping an arm around his neck. He’d showered and smelled really good.

“You didn’t eat anything but fries and pickles last night—no wonder you’re weak,” he groused, but concern laced his words. “Come on. Sit inside where it’s warm and I’ll make you some eggs.”

“Eggs sound good. And bacon,” I said, smiling a little to myself. I let him help me inside and he sat me at the kitchen table. I watched while he scrambled some eggs and cooked them, openly admiring the way his body moved. Dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, his gun stuffed in the small of his back, it was an incongruous sight to see—an admitted assassin making me breakfast in my country kitchen filled with rooster decor and homespun appliance cozies.

“Here you go,” he said, sliding some eggs and bacon onto a plate in front of me. Just then, Branna walked in.

“I thought we were going,” she said.

“We are,” Kade said. “Getting something to eat first.”

Branna frowned. “But we already ate.”

Oh, they had, had they? The eggs suddenly didn’t taste as good.

“Kathleen hasn’t,” Kade said, a note of warning in his voice.

“Well, she might want to skip a meal or two,” Branna said breezily. “These jeans I borrowed are about to fall off me, they’re so big.”

And that’s when I noticed she was wearing my clothes. My fork clattered to the plate and I shoved back my chair as I stood, the legs scraping against the wooden floor.

“Why are you wearing my clothes?” I asked, my supposed low blood sugar forgotten as my temper began to heat up.

“I needed something to wear,” she said, sending me a you’re-an-idiot look.

“And who said you could steal my clothes?” I bit out.

“Borrow,” she corrected me. “Trust me, I’d rather burn them than keep them.”

“Branna, dial back the bitchy,” Kade interrupted, his brows furrowed in irritation.

“I don’t think she can,” I sneered. “It just comes too natural.” I spun around and hurried down the hall. I could feel tears threatening and the last thing I wanted was for Branna to see me cry.