Page 54 of Breathe
Ellen lifted her head from his chest. He was smiling again, his dark eyes softened. “I’m glad you had him,” she said.
Kane let go of the newspaper to run a finger along her jawline. “I’m glad I have you.”
Ellen blushed but didn’t duck her head as she would have done a few weeks ago. “Any time,” she said, or tried to say, lightly. Forever, was what she wanted to say, but there was still the issue of her visa; and of just how serious Kane could ever want to be with her, when he had so many other commitments in his life.
The press were rabid now. Leo gave a statement, but it didn’t stop them calling or setting up shop outside Kane’s building, and seeing Ellen leave it early on Friday morning sent them into ecstasies. Megan counted three of them when she came to check on Kane that Saturday. Kane’s apartment was twenty stories up and faced the harbor, but just in case, Ellen had pulled the sheer drapes across his huge windows.
Kane’s friend Paul had called with supposed sympathy but actual plans on how to monetize the situation. “You know, if you guys had come to me first, we could have avoided all those awkward photos,” he enthused. “A few well-staged ops, that’s what you were missing.”
“Thanks, Paul,” Kane said, “but we don’t plan on staging anything. Staying out of spotlights, that’s us from now on.”
“You sure? I’ll bet New England Home would pay good money for a lifestyle piece.”
Kane snorted and said, “Lifestyles of the boring and congested. No, thanks. See you later, Paul,” and firmly hung up.
“Anyway,” Kane said now, “you’ll meet Carl yourself soon. He’s coming to visit in a couple of weeks.”
And then he had a sneezing fit. Ellen went to put the kettle on while he blew through a few dozen tissues. She decided to heat up some of the gallon of turkey noodle soup Megan had brought over yesterday along with more groceries, for which Ellen had been grateful, because it stopped her having to run the gauntlet of reporters again.
Looking back at Kane, who was now sitting with his head on the back of the couch, holding the bridge of his nose again and swearing, Ellen faced another problem. Even congested and disgusting as Kane was, now that his fever was down and her nursemaid instincts weren’t needed, her female instincts were getting louder and louder. Kane sounded like he was talking through a tube, and he smelled like eucalyptus, but the sight of him in plaid pajama pants, his bare feet propped on the coffee table, sent warm flickers through her belly, and she’d had to concentrate not to knead her feet into his thighs like a cat. She was glad to have her baggiest sweatshirt with her, because her nipples had been at attention all weekend.
But what could she do if he made a move? She’d told Penny the truth: the sheer number of his ex-girlfriends was disconcerting at the very least; terrifying at most. Just as she was hoping that she was becoming important to him, she didn’t want to fail at this most basic test of their compatibility.
So she stayed on her side of the kitchen counter and stirred the soup, and told her body for the twentieth time that day to calm the hell down.
