by Mia Carson
“Blair,” he said quietly. Mentally, he told himself to say more, but the words weren’t there.
She gripped the railing tightly as she stomped down, barefoot, wearing tight jeans and a black sweater, too big for her, but looking so much more comfortable than his slacks and tie. When she reached the bottom step, she stayed on it so she was eye level with him.
“Hugh. So nice of you and your family to stop by for dinner.” Every word was forced. The comfort of their friendship, the sway and flow of two people who had grown up together since birth, was strangled by too many pent-up emotions.
“It would have been rude of us to turn down the invitation.”
Say something else, you idiot!
“Yes, I guess it would have.”
They stood staring at each other. A few seconds stretched into a minute, and Hugh swirled the liquid in his glass as the words he needed to say but never could find piled up in his mind. She was radiant in her anger, her eyes flashing with it the longer he blocked her from stepping off the stairs. She could go around him if she really wanted to, but her feet remained planted. She tugged her sweater down hard, stretching out the hem. When she curled her toes, a nervous habit she’d had since a child, he stepped to the side.
“I’ll escort you to the dining room,” he said, offering his arm.
Blair rolled her eyes. “I can walk twenty feet without aid, thanks so much.”
“I remember how klutzy you used to be,” he shot back just as snappishly. “I merely wanted to stop you from embarrassing yourself.”
She shoved him as she passed. “Thanks for your concern.”
“Heads up, Devin’s here.”
That stopped her. She cursed under her breath before continuing to the dining room to join everyone. He waited a few beats, listening to her polite and fake cheerful greetings to his family. Shooting back the rest of his whiskey and enjoying the slow burn of it down his throat, he stepped into the parlor to refill his glass and finally joined his family. Jean carried a casserole in to set on the table, and he found his chair between Kella and Devin. Jean sat at the head of the table with his parents on the other side and Blair at the end. The conversation was carried by the parents and Devin, who considered herself above her siblings in all matters. Hugh was content to let them talk. He spent his time observing the small details of Blair picking at her food.
Growing up together gave him knowledge of every little tell of Blair’s. When she was upset, her usually bright blue eyes darkened and her right eyebrow would arch as if on its own. He drank his whiskey and watched the delicate shaped brow do just that a few times. She rubbed the back of her neck with her left hand, telling him she was agitated about something, and the constant shifting in her chair was the tell-tale sign of her wanting to run out of there and disappear in the gardens like she used to when the parents’ dinners bored her.
But this shifting was different. Her gaze flickered to him, and he flinched at the intensity of it. His fork clattered to his plate, and he mumbled an apology when Devin and Kenneth glared at him for the interruption.
“No matter,” Bridget said, setting her fork down and wiping her mouth with the embroidered cloth napkin. “I believe now is a good a time as any to announce the reason we’re here for dinner. Jean, would you like to do the honors, or should I?”
“I think you should,” Jean said and motioned that she had the floor.
Bridget smiled and coughed after taking a sip of water as Hugh’s throat tightened in apprehension. “As you all know, our families have been close for a very long time. With the election coming up, we have decided to go back to an idea we came up with many years ago to join our two powerhouses and really make a difference in this city and our state.”
Blair crossed her arms as she leaned back in her chair. Hugh pleaded with his eyes for her to give him a hint of what was happening since she seemed to already know what was coming, but she pointedly ignored him.
“You two have always shown us what great friends you have been, and we know over the years, you may have grown apart,” Bridget continued, “but it is our hope that you will find your way again, as a married couple.”
Hugh’s eyes widened. Cotton filled his ears and he gripped the edge of the table. Blair sucked in her cheek, chewing on it, and refused to meet his gaze. She knew all along. That was why she was so ticked without him having to say a single word to her.
“I’m sorry, what did you just say?”
“Marriage, between you and Blair,” his mom repeated. “We talked about it all the time when you were little. I even believe you both mentioned it yourselves several different times.” She laughed lightly with Jean as the mothers reminisced. “All those times you two played house in the old treehouse in the backyard. I see no reason why we can’t make it official.”
“Right before the elections, that’s when you want this to happen. For your damn election.” He grunted as he scooted back his chair hard and stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I need some air.”
He stormed out of the dining room, through the kitchen, and out the sliding glass doors to the patio beyond, ignoring Bridget and Kenneth. He didn’t want to hear it. Long ago, their parents discussed a sort of arranged marriage between their families, but the idea hadn’t come up in years. He assumed they’d dropped it when they noticed Blair and he weren’t speaking as much as they used to. It figured that with the elections coming up, his mom would do whatever she deemed necessary to strengthen her connection to one of the elite families in the city.
The cool night air caressed his cheeks as he followed the shadows in the yard as the sun set to his right. Lightning bugs wouldn’t be out yet—too early in the spring season—but he rested his arms on the railing, smiling as if he could see them. When they were younger and the yard would glow with their presence, he would run out there with a jar for Blair as she jumped up and down, trying to catch as many as she could. By the end of the night, when the jar was full, he would hand it to her, but she would give it right back to him, planting a loud kiss on his cheek.
“You need it,” she told him every time. “I know you’re scared of the dark.”
“I’m not scared,” he would argue, ashamed, and she’d take his hand and smile warmly.
“You don’t have to lie to me. I can’t be there with you, but they will be and they’ll light up the night for you.”
They were ten the last time they chased fireflies, or eleven, and he still hated the darkness. When they stopped catching lightning bugs, she found him a Star Wars night light for his birthday and gave it to him in secret so his dad wouldn’t see it. He wondered if he had it still somewhere in his room.
Distracted by the good old days, he didn’t hear the door slide open behind him until a voice said, “Who said you get to storm off after that conversation?”
He shrugged, not bothering to turn around. “You obviously just did the same thing.”
“I was going to do it earlier, but you beat me to it. I thought it would be tacky to do it at the same time. They might think we agree on something.”
Blair sighed and leaned against the railing beside him. In the distance, he swore he heard her happy laughter echoing from the treehouse he could barely see in the distant trees at the edge of the grassy lawn.
“We can go back in there and tell them we don’t want this,” he told her firmly. He spotted her toes curling and his brow furrowed. “Unless you do want to,” he said slowly, lifting his head. “Blair?” Her lips were pursed, and she tapped her thumbs on the railing, lost in thought.
“If we say no, they’ll never back off. You know that from experience.”
He stiffened. “Thanks for the reminder.”
“Well, I’m not sure what you expected. You tend to do exactly what they tell you to do,” she said hotly.
“Can we not do this tonight?” he pleaded in annoyance as he faced her.
“If we’re going to get married, we’ll have to do this eventually.”
They
stared each other down, but anger wasn’t what suddenly erupted within him. Hugh tensed as a longing swelled in his body and the night fell away from him. Their parents, the arranged marriage, his sisters, the house…it all fell away until it was only Blair and he on the back patio as the sun set behind him. The reds and oranges reflected in her eyes as she squinted at him against the glare. How had he forgotten how stunning she was, especially when she was annoyed with him? Her lips screwed up in a crooked frown, and she looked ready to stomp her foot as she had when she was younger and he would beat her in a race or tug on her curls.
He wanted to do that now—tug on those curls and wrap them around his hand as he dragged her against his body and kissed the frown off her lips. The idea formed in his mind and without waiting for his logical mind to kick in and tell him it was a bad idea, he did just that and kissed her. Their lips met and she gasped in surprise. But then her lips moved with his and she grabbed the front of his shirt to pull him even closer.
Blair stood on her toes as the kiss deepened. His tongue flicked her lower lip, and she nearly parted her lips to let him in when she shoved him away from her, panting for breath.
“What the hell are you doing?” she hissed in a whisper, shooting a worried look at the door, but they were still alone, thankfully. She waited for Hugh to answer, but his face appeared as shocked as she felt at his actions.
“I…uh, I don’t know,” he murmured.
“You don’t know? Do you normally go up to women and kiss them?” she snapped, knowing from all she heard around campus he did. Her annoyance turned to anger for a split second. A grin stretched lazily across his face, and his hazel eyes shone with a desire for her she had not seen on his face in years. She swallowed hard around the lump forming in her throat and her anger vanished.
“No, actually I don’t,” he said casually, stepped away a few feet, and vaulted over the railing into the yard. He strolled away, his hands in his pockets.
“Hugh! We’re not finished here,” she muttered and hurried around to use the three steps leading to the lawn. “Where are you going?”
“I’m wandering,” he threw back over his shoulder.
“You just kissed me and you’re wandering? Hugh, come on.” She ran to catch up to him as he reached the tree where the old treehouse was high above their heads. The built-in ladder was only missing a step here and there. She never told her mom, but some nights when she couldn’t sleep, she’d climb up there and watch the stars in the night sky as she used to do with her dad. As she used to do with her best friend.
Stepping around Hugh, she walked to the tree and rested her palms against the rough bark, running them around it as she closed her eyes. Her first real kiss with him had been in that treehouse. They were sixteen and it nearly turned into much more, but his older sister caught them making out and seemed to hate Blair ever since for reasons she couldn’t understand. Their parents wanted them to get married, and she would have to deal with a sister-in-law who despised her for nearly having sex with her brother when they were teenagers. Funny how life turned out.
Her palms pressed into the bark, the subtle pain reminding her of the times she walked away from this tree with splinters in her palms or bare feet. Hugh was good at getting those out for her. He might have feared the dark, but she hated needles.
“Do you remember,” she whispered as the shadows closed in around them, “the one time I fell from the trunk?”
“How could I forget?” he replied. She sensed him moving closer. “You scared the shit out of me. I thought you broke your leg or your arm, and you weren’t moving. Then you passed out and I remember screaming for help.”
“But no one was home,” she said, walking around the trunk. “So you picked me up and carried me all the way to the neighbor’s house.”
“You had a concussion and a bruised tailbone.” He was shaking his head when she circled the trunk back to the pieces of wood making the steps. “I felt so guilty.”
“Why?” she asked. “You saved me.”
“I tried to catch you,” he argued. “I reached down to grab you, but I was too late and you fell.”
“I was fine.”
“Yeah, but you might not have been. I couldn’t imagine anything happening to you.”
The weight of the truth in those words struck her like she hit the ground all over again. The air rushed out of her lungs and her lips tingled from all the kisses they’d shared as teenagers, and the one he gave her on the patio. A remembrance of better times.
“What happened to us, Blair?” he whispered, reaching for her hand.
She nearly let him take it, but an image of him kissing another girl, of holding her, of making love to her burned in her mind’s eye and she stepped away hastily. “You mean, what happened to you?”
The lines on his face deepened and a pang of guilt flickered in her as her hands shook. “That’s not fair. I’m not the only one who changed.”
“No, but you’re the only one who messed up a good thing.”
“You’re going to stand there and tell me that flat out? Seriously?” He laughed bitterly in disbelief, running a hand through his hair. “Fine, whatever you want to think, that’s just fine. I’m going back inside.”
“I’m not marrying you,” she called after him.
He paused and looked over his shoulder. “Who said I wanted to marry you?”
The words stung like a slap to the face. She watched him walk away as he had years ago, leaving her alone as she hugged herself for comfort, but none would come. Jesse was the only one who knew the truth of what happened between them and what Blair did—or rather didn’t do—to make matters worse. Whenever she sensed her anxiety rising over what happened, she reminded herself Hugh started it and she merely finished it. Longing for him to hold her again as he used to, as if they were made perfectly for each other, washed over her and she blinked tears back furiously.
“No, you are not going to cry over him,” she told herself sternly. “It doesn’t matter. You’re not going to marry him and you won’t fall back into his arms. You don’t want him as much as he doesn’t want you.”
But you do want him, and that kiss…that kiss said a hell of a lot more than just his attraction to you.
Blair grunted, annoyed, and marched to the old wooden swing hanging from the treehouse. She sat on it, resting her forehead against the rope while her toes brushed through the grass. Three years since Hugh and she were together. Three years since she let herself believe they had a chance at a happy future together, like the one they’d planned when they were little kids running around like crazy. What she wouldn’t give to have those days back and stop them both from acting out in ways they would later come to regret.
She sat outside on the swing long after the sun set. Car doors slamming told her their guests for the night had gone. Jean stepped outside carrying two wine glasses and offered one to her daughter when she reached her.
“Oh, Blair, what’s going on with you two?” she asked, sitting at the base of the tree.
Blair ran her fingers over the rim of her wine glass. “I told you. We grew apart, that’s all, and it might take a while to get back on track.” Lies. All lies. They would never get back on track.
“We’re not asking you to marry him this weekend.”
“No, only this fall.” She sipped the deep red wine and smiled in appreciation of the bold flavors caressing her tongue as Hugh’s tongue had almost done to hers. Swallowing hard to stop the rising want, she looked at her mother. “What if it doesn’t work out like you hope?”
“We don’t know if anything in this life is certain,” she replied, leaning into the tree and closing her eyes. “Your dad taught me that. I don’t see the harm in trying, and if things don’t work out, if you two have changed too much, we’ll deal with the situation when it arises. But, hon, I know how much you two care for each other. It’s still there, isn’t it?”
The truth was on the tip of her tongue, but instead of blurting it out, s
he drank more wine. “I guess so.”
“Promise me you’ll think about it? You’ll talk to him again?”
“I promise.” She sat with Jean, drinking their wine. “I miss him,” she whispered a time later.
“I do, too, always,” Jean agreed sadly. “He was a good man gone far too soon, and he only wanted the best for you. For us.”
“You think Dad would still be okay with this arrangement?”
“Who do you think came up with it in the first place?” She winked. “You know what he told me? He said he saw something in that little boy, a spark of life that his parents didn’t have. Brody swore Hugh would do great things, be a good man, not like his dad.”
“Maybe Dad was wrong.”
“No, I think he was right, but I believe the light in him depends on having you back in his life.” Jean patted Blair’s leg and stood. “Don’t stay out too late. You’ll catch cold.” She kissed the top of her head and strolled inside.
Blair finished her wine in the company of the night sky, wishing her dad was alive so she could ask him what she should do. If she wanted to be honest, she wanted to make things right between her and Hugh, but she wasn’t the only one who made mistakes. He would have to own up to what he did, too, and she doubted he would. His dad’s arrogance had reared its ugly head these past few years. Unsure of what she would do, she carried her empty glass inside and hoped a good night’s sleep would help wipe out the confusion Hugh and that damn kiss caused in her head.
Chapter 3
“He kissed you?” Jesse squealed, and Blair rushed to shush her.
“Can you keep your voice down? Damn, why do I have to tell you to keep secrets secret!” She smiled nervously at the people wandering through the gallery. “I’m here to make a good impression, remember?”
“But he kissed you. Grabbed you and kissed you.” Jesse whistled, earning a glare from a nearby couple. “Sorry, please continue to enjoy the beautiful photographs on the walls. My friend is the artist who took them.”
