The Feud, page 24
“Yes and no. At this moment, with you in my arms, everything is perfect. If I think about my kid and what she’s going through, I’m not okay.”
“What can I do?” I ask softly.
“Don’t move a muscle. Just let me hold you.”
“I can do that,” I say, but I move a little. I burrow in closer to him, one hand going to the back of his neck to stroke him lightly.
As tired as I am, there’s not an ounce of me that’s drowsy. I’m hyperaware of everything… the feel of my body against his, the sorrow in his words and the knowledge that right now, I’m some measure of comfort.
It’s silent for a very long time and when Ethan finally talks, I’m surprised by the subject matter. “There was a time I thought my siblings hated me.” I jerk in his arms, lifting my face to look at him. Green pools of sadness meet me and he nods. “It’s true.”
“No way.” I shake my head. “I’ve seen you and your family interact. That is some deep-seated love.”
His smile is soft. “Yes, I know that now. But I didn’t always and that’s because I was too wrapped up in the chaos of my life to consider otherwise. I was standoffish, focused on work, unapproachable. I was put into a position of power but the weight of responsibility was crushing. It took everything I had to keep Blackburn Farms running when my parents turned it over to me, and that left no room in my life for anything else. The lack of attention I gave them, the invites to do things with them that I constantly turned down—it made it so we had a huge divide in our relationship. My siblings didn’t like me much at all.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I ask, my palm pressed against his cheek.
“Because when I say I had no room in my life for my siblings, I really meant I had no room in my life for anything. The farm was my everything. It was my one true love. It was where my loyalty lay.”
“But now you have Sylvie,” I say, understanding crashing over me like a wave. “And you see that you have far more in you than you thought, and it has paved the way to mend bridges with your siblings. For that matter, you—”
“I have you,” he says. Three words said as soft as a whisper carried on the wind, yet they punch into me like I’ve been struck by a sledgehammer.
“Yes, I’ve learned a lot these last several weeks, mostly how unfulfilled my life has actually been, and it’s brought me closer to my siblings. It’s opened up a part of my heart I didn’t know existed and where Sylvie will reside. And… there’s you.”
“There’s me,” I echo his sentiment, still not quite sure why he’s focusing on me when there are so many other important things going on.
“I couldn’t have handled any of this without you,” he says, and another epiphany hits. He wants to show his gratitude.
“You would’ve handled it all just fine,” I say dismissively and I start to drop my head back down to snuggle into him.
His hand moves to my chin, holding me in place, his green eyes now dark with intensity. “No, I wouldn’t have. But more than giving me strength and confidence with Sylvie, you gave me yourself. You gave me your smiles, your tenderness, your sass, your jokes and your serious obsession with reality TV.” His thumb strokes over my bottom lip, his gaze dropping there as he murmurs, “You gave me that mouth and your body.”
His eyes lift, pinning me in place. My heartbeat thunders in my ears so I barely hear him say, “I’m wondering if you’ll give me your heart?”
I’m so breathless, I can barely say the words. “You already have my heart.”
“Well, that’s good then. Because you most definitely have mine.”
I feel like I’m trapped, hypnotized by the intense expression on his face and the power of his words. “Something monumental is happening in our relationship.”
“Does that scare you?” he asks, head tilted slightly.
I shake my head but then smile sheepishly. “A little.”
“Would it scare you if I told you I love you?”
That sucks the oxygen from me and I can only stare at him until I feel like I’m going to pass out. I force a breath and let it out in a whoosh. “Oh, wow.”
“I’m not sure how to take that response,” he says, although I can tell he’s amused.
“I just… are you saying you love me?”
“I don’t know. Would it scare you away?”
I shake my head this time and there’s no bashful smile with it. “Won’t scare me away.”
His smile brightens, something I haven’t seen in a few days, and it sparks joy within me that, despite everything he’s been through, Ethan is latching on to a moment of happiness.
With me.
“I love you,” he says emphatically. “I do. And I can’t go another minute without you knowing that, and I need you to know that I need you, and whatever you need, I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you the moon if you ask for it. Now, you said you already gave me your heart, but I don’t read between the lines very well. I need you to be a bit more direct with me.”
Looping my arms around his neck, I grin as I brush my mouth over his. Leaning back so I can look him in the eye, I tell him what he wants to know. “I love you. So much. And I’m right by your side, through whatever storm is coming. I’ve got both you and Sylvie.”
“I know you do. And I love you even more for it.”
Ethan kisses me, none too gently but immediately consuming. It can’t go anywhere, because Sylvie is upstairs sleeping. But it’s enough to tide me over until we can have time alone.
In the quiet of the Blackburn home, steeped in history and hate, love and redemption, closed doors and worlds of possibilities, I sink into the man who’s shown me that it’s possible to love again.
CHAPTER 26
Ethan
I’ve timed the end of afternoon carpool very well, allowing me to pull into the parking lot after the long line of cars has moved out. I’m not here to pick up Sylvie, as she’s in Louisville for the day with my mother and Kat. They’ll be back after dinner and I took the entire afternoon off from the farm so I could spend it with Marcie.
Despite the fact that Lionel was arrested two days ago upending our world, and despite the fact that Sylvie is having a bit of a difficult time processing things, we are doing what Blackburns do best.
We’re handling it.
Sylvie hasn’t returned to school yet, but we figured her missing two days wasn’t a big deal because she’s smart as hell and diligent in keeping up with her work. She had a visit with a therapist yesterday that Marcie arranged, and I sat in with her. I needed the guidance as much as she did and what I learned during the session, more than anything else, is that my kid is resilient.
It seems that after the initial shock of understanding someone—her own family member—wanted to hurt her, she’s chosen to draw strength from the family unit that she knows will protect her from all the bad things in the world. She’s settled in as a Blackburn and is leaving the Mardraggons behind.
The thing that has surprised me the most is that Sylvie seems to be the one out of all of us who has managed to make sense of what’s going on. Maybe that goes back to the resiliency of children or maybe she’s got the benefit of idealism, but she appears to have rebounded from the horror of Lionel’s actions. That doesn’t mean she’s not without fear or she doesn’t have moments of sadness that life can be so cruel. I’ve been at the ready with hugs and reassuring words. My mom and dad have been there as the grandparents Sylvie needs—gentle, accommodating, fun and loving. My sister and brothers have doted on her the last two days, making Sylvie feel extra secure.
And Marcie… well, she’s been the linchpin in my world. She’s the one I can turn to if I suspect I’m doing things wrong, the one who can reassure me things will be okay, and her gifting her heart to me has bolstered my strength.
I have no regrets about my decision to take the afternoon off from work as it’s inherently more important for me to spend some quality alone time with her, even if only for a few hours, because it feeds my soul.
I get out of the car and immediately spot Marcie standing at the curb, helping a stray student into a parent’s car. She’s talking to the mother behind the wheel, her smile broad and eyes sparkling. She leans into the back seat to help buckle the kid in and waves goodbye.
A few other teachers linger outside talking, but Marcie’s eyes come to me when I shut the truck door. She hadn’t noticed me until now and her eyes drop to the large clutch of spring flowers I’ve brought. I’ve never been a romantic man but never has anything felt more right than stopping at a florist to get this bouquet for Marcie. I knew it would make her happy and she’d feel cherished. That happiness would reflect back to me, because I’m finding, just like Sylvie, my most important mission in life is not the farm anymore.
It’s caring for these two ladies.
I hold up a hand, start her way and have to stop as another car whizzes up to the curb to grab a student. Marcie stares at me over the top of the car as another teacher helps the kid in. When the path is clear, I move to her.
“Hi,” I say as I step onto the curb. “Is it inappropriate if I kiss you?”
Head tipped back, lips slightly parted in a smile, she shakes her head. “But no tongue. Still a few students milling about.”
Chuckling, I put my hand behind her neck and lower my mouth to hers. There’s no tongue, as requested, but it’s not a peck on the lips. I breathe her in as I linger, heart thumping as she presses a hand to my chest and sighs.
When I pull back, she looks flushed and starry-eyed and fuck, I wish I could take a picture of her right now. But that would just be weird.
Instead, I hand her the flowers, again wishing for a snapshot of her face as it softens with delight. She dips her head, inhales and then her eyes lock with mine. “Thank you. What’s the occasion?”
“Pretty much you’re the occasion,” I reply, tucking my hands into my pockets. “So I did a thing.”
“A thing?”
I nod, rocking up on my toes and back again with a sly grin. “I took the afternoon off.”
“Scandalous,” Marcie says, eyes flared wide and a hand fluttering at her throat. “Whatever will people think?”
“I imagine they’ll think I am a pretty smart guy since I intend to spend this afternoon with my girl. Sylvie’s in Louisville with Mom and Kat, the farm is in good hands with Trey, Wade and my dad, and I have no obligations other than to chill with you.”
Eyes twinkling and another inhale of the sweet flowers, Marcie purses her lips. “You do understand that I am still at work.”
“Well, yeah… I’m here at the school, right? I thought I’d just hang out quietly in your office while you finish up whatever you need to.”
“And you also understand I often have a lot of stuff to do that could take another two to three hours?”
“Yes, I understand that as well.” I step into her, put my arm around her back and pull her into me. “But I was also hoping that when I got to your office, we’d close the door and make out for a bit, and I could convince you to play hooky—that’s a term you should understand as a principal—and then we’d go do something fun for the rest of the day.”
Marcie laughs as she goes to her tiptoes. I’m shocked and then tumbling further into love as she kisses me with abandon, and yes… there’s tongue. When she pulls back, she says, “Okay… you’ve convinced me to take the afternoon off. I’ll just catch up tonight.”
“Yeah… about that.” I take her by the hand and lead her into the school so she can get her purse and we can start our time together. “I was kind of hoping you’d join us for dinner. Just trying to rally the forces around Sylvie with the entire family for a while, and well… you’re family.”
Marcie halts, pulling me to a stop. “How was she this morning?”
I shake my head slightly, the marvel of my kid humbling me. “Brave, introspective, determined. She wants to come back to school tomorrow but I’m not sure.”
“I think she should.”
“I don’t want her to get bullied. You know the story made national news.”
“I’ll protect her at school. She’ll be fine. I think it’s important for her to maintain a regular routine. It will help normalize her life.”
I nod in understanding. The therapist said it would be important to not let this become the center of our world. “Okay… she can return tomorrow. But you didn’t answer me about dinner.”
Marcie squeezes my hand. “Of course, I’ll come to dinner tonight and any night you want me there.”
“That would be every night,” I assure her, and she blushes. I bend to get closer, my eyes fixed on hers. “I love you and that means I want you as close to me as much as possible.”
Her hand jerks in mine and she ducks her head only briefly before returning her gaze to mine. “It’s just shocking to hear those words. Thrilling, awe-inspiring, overwhelming and just the best words ever.”
“I’ll make sure to say them often then,” I assure her.
“That makes me a very lucky woman. I love you, Ethan.”
“Guess I’m a lucky guy.” I bend down to kiss her again, but I keep it brief. “But time’s a-wasting and I want to maximize every minute with you. Any thoughts on what you want to do, and if you say something like we go to your house and spend the afternoon in bed, I would not be opposed.”
Marcie laughs and tugs me toward the door again. “That’s a possibility in a little bit, but I think first, I’d like you to give me a riding lesson.”
“Thank you, Lord Jesus,” I murmur, and when she glances back at me, I wink.
“I mean riding a horse, Ethan,” she drawls.
“You did call me a stud once—”
Her hand pops me in the stomach playfully. “Enough with the horse jokes.”
Laughing, we step inside her office, hand in hand. Despite the horror of the last few days, I’m not sure that my future has ever felt brighter or more packed with promise. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt more confident or empowered to not only be a dad and a businessman, but to be a partner to Marcie. I know without a doubt I can handle any tough days ahead, and it’s thanks to the woman by my side.
The feud between the Blackburns and Mardraggons is far from over. The bitter battle continues as Kat Blackburn and Gabe Mardraggon are thrust together for business but forced to face some very personal truths about their dealings in The Forbidden, book two of the Bluegrass Empires series by Sawyer Bennett. CLICK HERE for details.
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New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author Sawyer Bennett uses real life experience to create relatable stories that appeal to a wide array of readers. From contemporary romance, fantasy romance, and both women’s and general fiction, Sawyer writes something for just about everyone.
A former trial lawyer from North Carolina, when she is not bringing fiction to life, Sawyer is a chauffeur, stylist, chef, maid, and personal assistant to her very adorable daughter, as well as full-time servant to her wonderfully naughty dogs.
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Sawyer Bennett, The Feud
