Page 62 of Blindsided
Despite everything, I laugh. “Just a little.”
Kat’s expression softens. “Look, I’m not judging. God knows we could all use something good in the middle of this mess. I just...” She hesitates. “Kane’s been through a lot, even before all this Tomasrevelation stuff. He doesn’t let people in easily.”
“I’m not trying to get in anywhere,” I protest, though the words feel hollow even to me. “I’m just helping a friend.”
“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Kat asks with a raised eyebrow. “Because that was definitely not a ‘just friends’ embrace I witnessed.”
I sigh, sitting back down on my bed. “I don’t know what it was, okay? Everything’s happened so fast. A week ago, I was in Toronto discovering my husband’s affair. Now I’m in some border town in Ireland with a strange family that I have nothing in common with except the fact that we are all from Toronto.”
“Life’s weird like that,” Kat agrees. “One minute you’re planning your anniversary party, the next you’re kissing a tattooed Irishman with daddy issues.”
“I didn’t say we kissed,” I point out.
Her smile is knowing. “You didn’t have to.”
I flop back on the bed, staring at the water-stained ceiling. “I’m still married,” I say, more to myself than to Kat.
“Technically,” she concedes. “But your husband forfeited any claim to faithfulness when he slept with your sister.”
She’s right, of course. Mark shattered our vows long before I kissed Kane. Still, something isunsettling about the speed at which my life is transforming. I came to Ireland to escape, to hide, to lick my wounds in private. Instead, I’ve been swept up in a family drama that makes my marital problems seem almost trivial by comparison.
“What happened at the castle?” Kat asks, changing the subject. “Kane said you had a panic attack.”
I nod, the memory still fresh and raw. “We found a skeleton in one of the lower rooms. Between that and the confined space, I just... lost it. My asthma didn’t help.”
“Jesus,” Kat mutters. “That’s rough. Are you feeling better now?”
“Yeah,” I say, and I’m surprised to realize it’s true. Despite everything—the skeleton, the panic attack, the kiss—I feel more alive than I have in months. Maybe years. “It’s weird, but I am.”
“Nothing like mortal terror to put things in perspective,” she says sagely.
I sit up, curious about something. “Can I ask you a question? About Kane?”
Kat’s expression turns wary. “Depends on the question.”
“What did he mean when he called me ‘A stór’? I know he said it means ‘my treasure,’ but...”
Kat’s eyebrows shoot up. “He called you that. Seriously?”
I nod, suddenly uncertain. “Is that... bad?”
“No,” she says slowly. “It’s just... Kane doesn’t speak Gaelic. Not casually, anyway. They all learned a bit growing up, but Rory told me that Kane always refused to use it. Said it was pretentious bullshit.”
“Oh.” I’m not sure what to make of this information. “Maybe he picked it up from his mother?”
“Maybe,” Kat says, though she sounds unconvinced. “Or maybe you’re bringing out a side of him none of us have seen before.”
Before I can respond, there’s a soft knock at the door. Kat opens it to reveal Wren, holding a stack of towels.
“Thought you might want these,” she says, stepping into the room. “The owner said there’s hot water if you want to shower, but we should be quick about it.”
“Bless you,” I say fervently, taking one of the towels. After the day we’ve had, a hot shower sounds like heaven.
“Kane’s asking for you,” Wren adds casually, not quite meeting my eyes. “He’s downstairs.”
I glance at Kat, who gives me an I-told-you-so smile. “Thanks,” I tell Wren. “I’ll go down after I clean up a bit.”
Once Wren leaves, Kat gestures toward the small en-suite bathroom. “You go first. I’ll head down andsee if Rory is all snug as a bug.”
