Just a Little Heartache (The Brotherhood #5) - Merry Farmer Page 0,73

and most of his things hadn’t been unfolded or pressed yet. He packed everything, not particularly wanting to return to Blake’s estate once their mission was completed, no matter what the outcome. The kiss they’d shared in the parlor still burned on his lips. He could still feel Blake’s hands on his flesh as if he’d been scorched. His heart ached as though the wound of their love being ripped apart were new, and he was certain that if Dobson and Miss Yates hadn’t stopped them, he would be in Blake’s bed that very second, fucking as though his life depended on it. And it probably did.

But he couldn’t bear to put himself back in a position where he would be hurt all over again. If the supper party at Lady Inglewood’s had proven anything, it had proven that even if Annamarie divorced him, Blake would be expected to marry again. And after the way Blake had behaved, the bastard would go along with everyone else’s plans, smiling and being affable and dying on the inside. Niall wasn’t going to stick around to see it. He would help Blake get his children back, then he, too, would return to his life.

The journey to Blackpool proved far more arduous than Niall had the patience for. They only just managed to catch a train heading west at the late hour once they reached Leeds, but it was far from being a direct route. After switching trains twice, they arrived in Liverpool by midmorning, then were forced to wait for hours, drinking copious amounts of coffee to keep from passing out with exhaustion, until they could take a train to Blackpool. Niall managed a few minutes of restless sleep on that leg of the journey, but was no more refreshed when they reached the seaside town than if he’d stayed awake the whole time.

“I’ve always thought Blackpool was a holiday town,” Blake commented when they departed the station and stared dumbly up and down the street, no idea where to go or what to do next to find Annamarie, Ian, and the children. “It doesn’t look like much.”

Niall sent him a flat, sideways look. “It’s October,” he said. “No one goes to the beach in October.”

Blake made a small sound as if conceding the point. “So where are they?”

Niall turned to stare at him fully. “They aren’t going to meet us at the train station with the children dressed in their Sunday best, ribbons in their hair.”

Blake’s eyes flared with indignation as he dragged his gaze away from the traffic and met Niall’s eyes. “I wasn’t expecting a welcoming committee.”

“With a question like that, you could have fooled me,” Niall snapped in return. He spotted several signs for hotels near the train station and started forward.

“I’d forgotten how pissy you can be sometimes,” Blake said, trailing after him.

“Me?” Niall skittered to a stop, waiting for Blake to catch up so that they could walk on side by side. “I’m the pissy one? I’m not the one who’s spent the last twelve hours complaining about uncomfortable train seats, cold coffee, and biscuits without chocolate.”

“I’m worried,” Blake snapped in return. “Who knows what Annamarie and Ian plan to do? If they take the children out of the country, I might never see them again. So forgive me for not being my usual, jolly self.”

“Is that who you were being at Lady Inglewood’s party?” Niall snorted as he picked the hotel that looked the most discreet from the selection down the street in front of him and headed toward it. “Your usual, jolly self?”

“They expect things from me,” Blake complained. “I oblige. And what’s so wrong with that anyhow?”

“It’s not who you really are,” Niall said distractedly as he paused at a street corner and watched traffic for an opportunity to cross.

“No one would accept who I really am,” Blake said sullenly.

“Did you ever even try?” Niall muttered, seeing his opportunity and crossing.

Blake kept up with him, frowning and looking half his age. “I was never given a chance.”

“Well, you have a chance now.” Niall stepped up onto the far curb and turned to face Blake. “Who are you going to be?”

Blake blinked and stumbled back as though Niall had elbowed him. A lost look came over him. “I don’t know,” he said at last with a shrug, shaking his head.

“That’s your problem.” Niall moved on, stepping up to his hotel of choice’s front door. “Once you’re ready to stop being who they tell you to