Turn on a Dime - Blane's Turn
said. “I’ll take care of your car.”
    Her eyes jerked back up to his and Blane could see her blush in even this faint light.
    “You don’t have to do that,” she weakly protested.
    “It would be my pleasure,” Blane said, wishing he was just talking about the damn car. His gaze dropped unwillingly to her mouth. She licked her lips and he nearly forgot his resolve not to touch her.
    Time to go.
    “I’ll need these,” he said, slipping the key ring from her fingers. “Good night, Kathleen.”
    She seemed too dumbfounded to say anything, though her throat worked as she swallowed. Blane stepped away, reluctant to leave. But if he stayed, he knew what would happen. He’d have her naked and in bed before she could slip off her shoes. But he’d regret it tomorrow, and likely she would, too.
    He felt her eyes on him as he walked down the stairs.
     

     
    It was the matter of a phone call to get someone out to tow Kathleen’s car and replace the battery. The cost wasn’t much, a couple hundred dollars, but Blane thought that might not have been a paltry sum to Kathleen and he was glad he’d happened to be around when her car broke down.
    Blane agreed to meet the towing company at the firm, which was fine with him because although it was a Saturday, he still had work to do in the office.
    He didn’t know why he suddenly swung into the hardware store as he drove by, having them make an extra set of keys from the set he’d taken from Kathleen. It was early, the store had just opened, and Blane was the only one there. He stood by, impatiently waiting, wondering what the hell he was doing.
    Blane was briefly tempted to take the car by himself once it was fixed, but he had work to do and really needed to stay away from Kathleen for his own peace of mind. His dreams last night had showcased a woman with blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair, and he’d been doing things to her that he was pretty sure were illegal in at least a dozen states.
    With that decision made, Blane got to work, losing himself in his cases until his stomach growled, reminding him it was time for lunch.
    He was eating a sandwich one-handed from a local shop that delivered while he flipped through files with his other hand when his cell rang.
    He glanced at the caller ID before answering.
    “Kirk,” he mumbled, swallowing down a mouthful of turkey and swiss on rye.
    “Yo, Cap’n, how’s it hangin’?”
    Blane snorted at his friend Todd’s idea of urban slang. “What are you? Fucking fifteen? Talk like a man, for chrissake.”
    Todd just laughed. “I figured with all the lowlifes you hang with, that’d make you feel more comfortable and shit.”
    “Fuck off,” Blane said without heat, taking a swig of the Coke he’d gotten from the vending machine downstairs.
    “What’ve you got planned for tonight?” Todd asked.
    Blane thought a moment. For once, nothing, which sounded just fine to him. God, was he getting old when staying at home on a Saturday night was something to look forward to?
    “Nothing,” he answered. “I’m at work now. I might stay late.”
    “You broke up with Queen Bitch, right?”
    “Kandi,” Blane corrected, not bothering to reprimand Todd’s pet name for her. None of his buddies liked her and he didn’t see that changing anytime soon. Not that it mattered anymore, he supposed.
    “Whatever. She’s out of the picture, right?”
    “Yeah, why?”
    “I need a favor man.”
    Blane’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What kind of favor?”
    And that’s how Blane found himself on a blind date with Todd, some girl named Jenny, and her best friend Tory. Todd had met Jenny at the grocery store and they’d supposedly hit it off. However, Todd didn’t want to do the first date alone in case she was psycho or had their children’s names picked out by dessert.
    Tory was easy on the eyes with curves in all the right places, shown off to best advantage in a dress that fit her like it was painted on. Her makeup was bold

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