Kiss Me Kate (The English Brothers Book 6) (16 page)

“Yes.”

“…and he only knows what Amy told him.”

Kate cocked her head to the side, considering this. “That’s probably true. He may have heard other gossip or conjecture, but his main source was Amy.”

“Off the topic of Amy for a minute, because I’m still building my argument…” Étienne’s eyes asked for lenience and she nodded for him to continue. “If I asked the Atwell sisters about Barrett, Alex, and Weston? What would they say?”

“Nothing good,” she said in a soft, firm voice.

“I’m not trying to put you on the defensive, Kate…but there are two sides to every story. Now in regard to Amy…do you want to hear my side?”

“I do.”

He could see it in her face: her pursed lips had relaxed, her eyes were open, her body had shifted a bit toward him in her seat. Like any lawyer worth his salt, Étienne knew that he won the first round of reasonable doubt, but one major roadblock still lay in the way of Kate really
hearing
him.

“I have to ask this because you’re prejudiced…Can you keep my history with Amy separate from
our
history?”

She flinched, taking a deep breath and holding it as she searched his face. “
Our
history. I’m not even sure what our history is anymore.”

“
Chaton
,” he said tenderly, refusing to be drawn into a conversation about them when she had only asked him yesterday if they could save it until after the deal. “Can you keep it separate?”

“I can try.”

He leaned toward her a little, speaking softly near her ear as she stared down at her lap, occasionally nodding to let him know she was listening. He told her how he met Amy at college and how he’d liked her initially until she’d become too clingy. He detailed Amy’s terrible loss—the night her parent’s had died and how it had been impossible to break up with her. He told her about Amy’s grief and how she’d changed as the years moved on, finally showing Étienne her true nature: fiercely possessive and unreasonably jealous. Kate didn’t ask him any questions as he related these details to her. Their breakfast came and they ate as he continued his story. He was almost finished as the flight attendant cleared their trays away.

“Amy and I were together for five years, Kate. Five
years
when we probably shouldn’t have even been together for one. We were young and we were wildly incompatible. We had our ups and downs, make-ups and break-ups; we were like any other idiotic college couple, but Amy’s jealousy made the relationship toxic. One day we’d be together, the next we’d be broken up. Did I sleep with other women during the times we were broken up for a few weeks? I did. So,
I assumed
, did she.”

“Did she?” Kate asked, finally looked up at him.

“I don’t know. She led me to believe that she did …with your cousin. But the more I think about it, the more I believe that wasn’t actually what happened, but instead what Amy wanted me to think that her behavior was technically above reproach, making her a victim and me a villain.” He paused for a moment. “I’m not going to lie: the lines were probably blurred here and there. There were times, after explosive or ridiculous fights, when I wasn’t sure if we were together or not. And during those times she may have believed I had cheated on her.

“It was exhausting. It was confusing. But, look at me, Kate. Look in my eyes.” She did and hers were so searching—so beautiful and blue and clear—that his breath caught, hope and desperation mingling in his heart as he gazed back at her. “I swear to you…When Amy and I were
together
, I was faithful to her.”

***

Kate couldn’t explain how she knew he was telling the truth, but she did. Perhaps it was because her job compelled her to be able to sort out the veracity of situations and testimony, to know when a witness was reliable, and to know when she couldn’t put someone on the stand because they simply weren’t credible. It didn’t matter how she knew, she just did. She believed him.

“I believe you,” she said. “And you have to believe me. Stratton never slept with her. Never. Not once. I promise you that.” She smiled, chuckling softly, ruefully. “He wanted to. But he didn’t.”

“I think you’re probably right,” conceded Étienne.

“I have to re-frame all of this, and that’s hard for me, because Stratton was sure that you were mistreating her. So positive. And he wouldn’t lie to me. I don’t think he’s capable of it.”

“You believe he’s pure-hearted?”

“I do.”

“Then he wouldn’t know if he was being manipulated, Kate. Didn’t it ever seem odd to you that she strung him along like she did? Sleeping over at his place, but never dating him? Running to him when she was sad, but leaving him in the dust the minute she and I were back together? Every time we broke up, Amy insinuated that she was sleeping with your cousin. You insist they never slept together, and I’m more inclined to believe you than her. And if I do, the pieces will fit together for both of us. Think it over. Think about what you know, not what you heard. She played him like a fiddle, Kate. She played me like a fiddle, too.”

Based on everything she knew, especially the way Amy had used Stratton, which had always bothered Kate, Étienne was telling the truth. She leaned against her seat back, her cheek against the slick leather as she gazed at him, searching his face, and asked him one last time, “So, you
never
cheated on her?”

“Not willfully,” he said. “Kate, I stood by her side when her parents died. I held her hand and dried her tears and carried her to bed when she couldn’t stand up anymore. I cared for her, even though she was hell to get along with. I know what she said about me. I know she painted herself as a victim and me as a villain. I always told myself it didn’t matter who knew the truth, because
I
knew it. But for the first time, it’s important to me that someone else knows it too, so here it is: When I understood Amy and I to be together, I never cheated on her with another woman. Not once. Never.”

Kate couldn’t help the small smile that spread her lips and made her eyes feel soft. He leaned his cheek on the back of his seat too, mirroring her, staring at her with heartbreaking tenderness and something that looked a lot like relief.

“Closing arguments?” he asked her, cracking a smile.

Her grin grew bigger. “Go for it.”

“We’d been broken up for twelve hours when she left on a business trip for Japan for two weeks. While she was there, she got engaged…to a stranger.” Kate had heard about this, but now it made her see Amy in a whole new light. Not as someone who finally had found well-deserved happiness, but as someone who wasn’t nearly as committed to her relationship with Étienne as she would have had the world believe. “Does that sound fickle or faithful to you,
chaton
?”

“Fickle,” she said, her hand suddenly reaching for his as her mind processed what he’d endured at Amy’s hands. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” he answered softly, lacing his fingers through hers.

***

Étienne let her take his hand because he would never refuse Kate his touch or his body or his heart or his soul. It seemed they belonged to her now as they had then, so long ago. He raised her knuckles to his lips, smiling into her glistening eyes.

But he realized, as his heart swelled with a never-forgotten love, that he
had
cheated on Amy. In fact, he’d been cheating on Amy since the day he met her, from the very beginning. Staring into Kate English’s bright blue eyes, the truth slammed into him like a freight train and he knew: all along, he’d been cheating on Amy with his heart, because his heart had always belonged to Kate.

After two straight days of making out in the sunny nooks and crannies of Westerly’s gardens, during which he refused to think about Saturday, Friday had finally dawned, and it was impossible for Étienne to avoid its tragic reality: Kate was leaving tomorrow.

Before meeting Kate, he hadn’t known that it was possible to fall for someone so quickly, so completely. But the deep feelings he had for Kate were more real than anything he had ever felt before. He was falling in love with her, of that he was certain.

Since Wednesday, their physical relationship had moved at break-neck speed, manifesting itself at a level commensurate with their growing feelings for each other. Last night, wrapped up in a thick blanket he’d brought from his house, they’d been almost naked together in the Winslow’s secret hammock, his plaid boxers rubbing against her white cotton underwear as he rocked against her, cozy in their intimate cocoon.

By now, Étienne had touched all but the most sacred parts of her body—tenderly, reverently—with his lips and fingers, trailing both along the secret recesses of curves and folds, peaks, valleys and plains, dropping gentle nuzzles and passionate kisses, discovering her, exploring her, learning what made her sigh and what made her giggle. Unlike the other girls he’d been with, Étienne was completely aware of Kate all the time, almost as though they were plugged into each other—two halves of a greater whole that was only complete when they were touching, seeking, finding love.

Between kisses and touches, they lay next to each other under the stars, wrapped in each other’s arms, talking about their hopes and dreams. Both wanted to be lawyers one day. Neither wanted a marriage like their parents had, which felt more like business than love. They talked about the sort of parents they’d like to be one day. Kate said she’d trust her own children more, let them make mistakes, and be a soft landing for them when they were hurting. Her own parents, she said, were both stifling with their affection and overly controlling with their rules and expectations. His, on the other hand, were more lenient, but had almost no tolerance for trouble or mistakes. So, Étienne could do what he liked, as long as he didn’t cause a ripple on the water. The minute he did? Their judgment was harsh and their sentencing grave.

Her arms had tightened around him. “But you take so many risks! What if they found out you use their car?”

Étienne had shrugged. “I honestly don’t think they’d care…as long as I don’t
make
trouble or
get into
trouble. If I can drive it to town without having an accident or getting pulled over? I don’t think they could care less.”

“And if you
did
get caught?”

“There would be consequences and I would accept them.”

“Just like that?” Kate had asked.

“Just like that,” he’d murmured, smiling at her reassuringly before bending his neck to kiss her some more.

This morning, she’d pushed through the hedge a little after seven as planned, early enough to avoid the English Inquisition and for him to arrange for their breakfast.

“You left a note?” he asked, pulling her into his arms and sighing into her hair as she leaned into him, clasping her hands behind his back and laying her cheek on his chest.

“Mm-hmm,” she murmured. “In the kitchen. I said that I was jogging with Betsy, then getting breakfast in town.”

“You’re sure Stratton won’t tell?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed. He trusted Stratton English about as far as he could throw him.

“No,” said Kate. “He promised he wouldn’t. Besides, I’ll run back at lunch to check in.”

They’d learned that if Kate checked in periodically for meals, her aunt and cousins weren’t as suspicious about her activities. But today, their last day, he hated thinking about any moment not spent together. He tightened his arms around her, resting his cheek on top of her head and breathing in the clean, fresh scent of her shampoo.

I’m going to miss you,
he thought, unable to detach himself from the finiteness of the moment.
I’m going to miss you so fucking much, it’s aching like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

“This is brutal,” she finally murmured, the movement of her jaw soft on his chest. “Tell me you have something good planned for today.”

“Not much,” he admitted, feeling as miserable as she, and yet fighting that feeling because he didn’t want to waste the day feeling sad when they still had time together. “Just you and me. Talking. Walking. Watching bunnies fuck in the sky.”

She’d giggled softly then, and he relaxed a little.

“And making out?” she asked looking up at him.

“Lots of that,” he confirmed, dropping his lips briefly to her nose. “Plus, Friar uncovered the pool and said we could use it if we wanted to swim…since it’s our last day.”

“I didn’t bring a suit,” she said.

“I grabbed one from the laundry room. It’s Jax’s…or Mad’s.”

“Who are both tiny compared to me,” said Kate, giving him a look.

“Which just means I get to see more of you,” he teased.

“Part of your evil plan?” she teased with a smile, darting a glance to the picnic basket at his feet. “Breakfast?”

He nodded. “In the rose garden or the copse?”

“The patio,” Kate suggested. “A proper breakfast.”

“Very good, Miss English,” he said, stepping away from her and picking up the basket. He offered her his free hand and she took it.

All things considered, it had been a good day. They’d spent the morning sitting at the cast iron patio table on the Winslow’s back terrace, eating croissants and sharing coffee from a thermos. Kate told Étienne all about the summer camp she attended in New Hampshire with Betsy and he told Kate about his grandparents’ apartment in Paris that had views of the Eifel Tower, promising that someday they’d go there together. He showed her the finished portrait which, he felt, still needed a lot of work, but her eyes misted as she touched the brush strokes reverently.

“Someday it’ll be yours,” he’d said, and she’d lurched across the table to kiss him.

As the sun rose higher, they put on swimsuits and got in the pool, playing games that always ended with Étienne grabbing Kate and kissing her as she wrapped her legs around his waist and buried her fingers in his dripping hair.

She never returned to Haverford Park for lunch, so she insisted on returning for dinner, despite his pleas that she stay with him. Promising to return as soon as possible and meet him at the hammock in the copse, she’d finally kissed him goodbye and slipped back through the hedge.

Étienne had run back to Chateau Nouvelle to shower and shave quickly, avoiding J.C. who’d returned last night, before heading back to Westerly. As he ambled across the lawn at twilight, he’d finally surrendered to the immense heaviness of his heart. Tonight when he told her “Goodnight” he’d essentially be saying, “Goodbye.”

He reached the hammock and unfurled the thick blanket, laying one half across the netting carefully and letting the other half, which he would wrap around them later, droop to the ground. And then he lay down, staring up at the growing darkness of the sky and emerging stars, telling himself to live in the moment and enjoy the time he had left with Kate instead of  grieving the time ahead when they’d be apart. But for Étienne, who had many acquaintances but no close friends with whom to share his deepest thoughts and dreams, losing Kate was hurting on several levels: he’d miss fooling around with her—the warmth and pliancy of her body—of course, but he’d also miss his friend.

“Room for me?” she asked from several yards away, picking her way through the shrubbery that concealed the quiet grove.

“Always,” he answered, shifting over a little to make room for her and propping himself up on one elbow that sunk partway into the netting.

She was barefoot, wearing jeans and T-shirt, with her hair back in a ponytail. Simple and innocent and breathtakingly lovely, just looking at her made his chest hurt.

Sitting down on the edge of the hammock, she reached up and pulled the elastic from her hair, shaking it a little, then swung her legs up and lay down beside him on her back, looking up at his face.

“This is it, I guess,” she said, her voice thin. As she locked her eyes with his, the hammock swayed gently.

“For now,” he answered, watching a tear slide from the corner of her eye into her hair. It glistened like a moving diamond, and strangely, it broke his heart and comforted him at the same time. He didn’t want her to be sad, but he wanted her to love him as much as he loved her, and her tears somehow felt like tangible proof that she did.

She clenched her jaw, looking away from him, beyond him, at the sky.

“I’ll go home. You’ll move on,” she said softly, pursing her lips together like she was trying to stop crying.

“Kate,” he said gravely, “look at me.”

She blinked, turning her head a little to focus on his face.

“I won’t.” He felt miserable and desperate, his throat thick and his eyes burning as he tenderly palmed her cheek. “I promise I won’t move on. I won’t because I can’t. Because I…I love you. You’re the only girl I’ve ever loved.”

She flinched, her breath catching as she searched his eyes.

“I love you, too,” she murmured, reaching for his face and pulling his head down to hers.

Her lips tasted salty from her tears, and they were a little slippery, so he licked them gently, nipping softly until her mouth opened to him. She whimpered as his tongue found hers, stroking the slick heat in a gentle rhythm as his hands moved to her T-shirt. He pulled at the hem and Kate shifted, struggling to pull it over her head. Their mouths were only apart for a moment, but when they collided again they were feverish and wild, his hands reaching behind for the clasp of her bra as he shifted to settle on top of her. Kate wiggled under him, and he pulled the straps from her shoulders, sliding his hands down her arms before covering the soft, sensitive skin of her breasts with his palms. Her nipples beaded immediately, and her hands found the bottom of his shirt, pushing it up, her nails grazing the skin of his chest as she frantically tried to bare his chest to hers. Étienne reached behind his neck and pulled off the shirt, throwing it to the ground and kissing her fiercely, his fingers gently pinching and massaging the taut peaks of her breasts as his hips thrust forward. He skimmed his lips to her ear, sucking the lobe between his lips and grazing it gently with his teeth.

“Kate, Kate, Kate,” he murmured into her ear, and he felt her shudder beneath him. When he drew back, he saw that her face was glistening with tears and he reached up to cup her cheeks, gazing at her with all the tenderness in his heart. “Please don’t cry.”

“I love you,” she said softly in a broken voice. “I’m so glad I met you, but I’m so sad I have to leave you tomorrow. It’s so unfair. It’s so…terrible.”

“I love you, too,” he said, bracing an elbow on the netting and rolling off of her a little so that his full weight didn’t rest on her. He pulled the blanket around them and looked into her eyes, trying to be brave for her as the hammock swung gently from his movements. Despite the sadness he shared with her, he couldn’t bear her tears. He had to try to reassure her. Pulling her into his arms, he whispered near her ear, against her hair, “
Chaton,
this isn’t an ending, it’s just a beginning. You’ll go back to New York, but we’ll still talk. I’ll call you and when you can, you’ll call me. We’ll write. We’ll see each other, too. I’ll take the train up whenever I can, and when you come back to see your cousins, I’ll be waiting.” He drew back to look at her, and her eyes were wide and sad, and he felt his courage failing. His voice broke as he confessed, “If I think of tomorrow as an ending, I’ll go crazy, Kate. I’ll go crazy.”

“Étienne…” She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, her glistening eyes locking on his, “Remember last night? When I stopped you?”

During an especially passionate kiss, he’d wiggled out of his boxers, then reached for her panties, pulling them down a little so that his erection could rub over the soft curls that concealed her sex. It had been hell to stop, but Kate had slid her fingers between their bodies, pulling up her underwear first and then his, and Étienne had respected her gentle refusal.

He nodded, his heart thundering with hope. “Mm-hmm.”

“Tonight…I don’t want to stop tonight. I want to do it. I want my first time to be with you.”

“Kate,” he groaned, his already-hard erection thickening in his jeans and pushing against her thigh. “I don’t want you to regret anything. Maybe we should…wait.”

“Why?” she asked, another tear slipping out of the corner of her eye and running into her hair. “We love each other. We won’t see each other again for a while. I want the memory of us…” She paused, searching for the right words, “…doing it. I want to remember what it felt like to feel you…like that…inside of me. I’m going to live on it until I see you again.” She swallowed, her eyes wide and luminous in the moonlight. “Have you ever done it?”

He briefly considered lying so that one of them would theoretically know what they were doing. But this was Kate. It was impossible to deceive her. He dropped his lips to the warm valley between her breasts and whispered against her skin, “No. Not yet.”