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Fatal Dreams (COBRA Securities Book 17)

Page 10

by Velvet Vaughn


  “Sure.” Sophie reached over to drag an unoccupied chair from the couple beside them while the other brown-haired man did the same. They scooted and squeezed until all six fit around the table.

  “Hi,” the blond greeted Esme. “My name’s Ethan.”

  Esme’s jaw dropped. No. Freaking. Way. Was this the universe’s way of poking fun at her? She couldn’t have the Ethan she wanted so a replacement had been sent in his place. “Esme,” she responded, shaking his hand on autopilot. Nothing. No shock or anything. Not even a tingle.

  The other men introduced themselves as Oliver and Chad and conversation picked up around the table. Esme tried to keep up with her end, but her heart wasn’t into it. All she really wanted to do was go home, put on her jammies, climb into bed and drown her sorrows in a gallon of rocky road ice cream.

  Fake Ethan, as she’d named him in her head, leaned close and she fought the urge to scoot away. Even the scent of his aftershave was offending. “So, what do you do for a living, Esme?”

  “I own a…” Her words trailed off when a tall, muscular, blond man strode into the restaurant—with a golden-haired beauty on his arm.

  “Is something wrong,” Fake Ethan asked. “You’re white as a ghost.”

  “Esme?” Concern was evident in Sophie’s tone.

  “I’m, uh, fine. Good. Great. I just need to use the restroom.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Sophie offered.

  “No, stay. I’ll be right back.”

  Tossing down her napkin she shoved the chair back with a deafening screech and shot to her feet. She hadn’t planned on confronting Ethan, but now she was on a collision course. The waiter had seated the couple at a booth and handed them menus. She marched right up to the table.

  “I guess now I know why you haven’t called me for a second date.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Ethan looked up at Esme with confusion and a total lack of recognition in his eyes. “Excuse me? Do I know you?”

  Esme’s mouth dropped open. The nerve! He’d kissed her breathless just a few days ago and now he suddenly develops amnesia? “How can you ask…” Something niggled in her brain. The man looked exactly like Ethan, right down to the faded bruise on his forehead, but she didn’t feel the crackling awareness that sparked her nerve endings when he was close. And, wait—wasn’t Ethan’s bump on the other side of his forehead? What the heck was going on?

  “Do you by chance think he’s Ethan?”

  Esme’s eyes shot to the woman seated across from him. Humor had laced her voice when she asked the question. For the first time, she noticed who she was. “Oh my gosh, Peyton Durant.”

  Snippets of conversation floated around in her head. Ethan had been headed to Chicago to help his brother with a case involving the Golden Girl, as she’d been dubbed by the media for her record number of Olympic gold medals. She jerked her gaze back to the man. “Oh my God, you’re his brother.” The man smiled and her breath caught. They looked so much alike.

  “Noah Addison,” he said, holding out his hand. “You already know Peyton, obviously.” Esme sheepishly shook their hands. “And you must be Esme.”

  She gasped. “How did you know?”

  “Ethan,” he simply said. She wanted to ask more questions. What had Ethan told him about her? Was it good or bad? Did he know why his brother hadn’t called her for a second date? But Sophie came over and tugged her arm before she could voice any of them.

  “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I need to leave. They just called me in to work. Two more nurses went home sick and they’re short-handed.”

  “Hold on, I’ll grab my purse and walk out with you.” She turned to Noah and Peyton. “It was a pleasure to meet you both. I’m so sorry I interrupted your dinner.” She bit her lip. “I don’t suppose this can stay between us?”

  Peyton grabbed her hand. “I’d like to say it will, but I’m afraid I saw Noah covertly texting under the table.”

  He held up his phone. “Busted.”

  She winced, bid them good night and followed Sophie back to the table.

  “I’ll drop your outfit by in the next day or two after I have a chance to do the laundry. I might be able to run by the cleaners before my shift tomorrow night.”

  “There’s no hurry.” Esme grabbed her bag.

  “You’re not leaving, too, are you, Esme?” Joelle asked. “We haven’t even eaten yet.”

  She’d planned on it but changed her mind at the pleading look on Joelle’s face. Settling her purse on the table, she retook her seat. Surely, she could suffer through one uncomfortable meal.

  #

  “She’s stunning,” Peyton murmured.

  “She is,” Noah agreed, watching the dark-haired beauty walk away from their booth. Now he understood why his brother was out of sorts. The woman was not only striking, but passionate, if her heated temper was any indication.

  “Noah.”

  He snapped his head to Peyton at the demanding tone of her voice. “What do you know that I don’t?”

  “Nothing, really.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Noah. You know something. You knew her name, for goodness sake. That totally surprised me. You’d better not be keeping secrets from me.”

  “No secrets. I just found out about her before we left for dinner. I haven’t had time to share.”

  “Well, you do now, so spill.”

  He smiled at her petulance. “I caught Ethan with an expression on his face that I knew well from looking in a mirror after we hooked up in Chicago.”

  “Yeah? What kind of look was that?”

  “Confusion. Wonder. Happiness. I could tell he was tied up in knots and that meant there was a good possibility it had to do with a woman.” He gave her the rundown on the two chance meetings on the side of the road.

  “Wow, it sounds like fate.”

  “Whatever it is, Ethan’s running scared.”

  “To look so much alike, you two obviously have very different tastes. She’s pretty much my opposite.”

  Noah reached over and grabbed her hand, twining their fingers together. “She might be lovely, but she pales in comparison to you.”

  Peyton smiled. “You don’t need to butter me up, darling. You’ve already got me.”

  “Not buttering you up. I’m telling you the truth. You are the most remarkable woman on the planet. I plan on reminding you of that every day, for the rest of our lives.”

  He loved that he could make her blush.

  “You’re trying to distract me from your brother’s predicament. I’m guessing by her comments when she stormed up to the table, he hasn’t called her.”

  “In Ethan’s defense, he was moving out of the apartment so we could have it to ourselves.”

  “He’s such a sweetie. Maybe I’ll go over and tell…uh-oh.”

  Noah followed her gaze to see the man seated next to Esme move closer. There were three men at the table and two women. He snapped a photo just as the man leaned in to whisper in her ear. That ought to kick his brother in the pants. Esme wasn’t the kind of woman you left alone for too long. With her exotic beauty, she had to have dozens of men lined up for the chance to date her.

  “What are you doing?” Peyton asked suspiciously.

  “Giving my brother a nudge. I didn’t have a chance to send the text earlier, but this one ought to do the trick.” Noah hit send and sat back to wait. He didn’t have long. His phone buzzed fifteen seconds later.

  “What the hell, Noah? Who’s the man with Esme?”

  “Hello to you, little bro. I’ve no idea but I’m guessing her date.”

  “Date? She’s on a date.” He paused. “How do you even know who she is?”

  Noah chuckled. “She thought I was you.”

  Ethan groaned. “And you walked in with your beautiful girlfriend.”

  “I think she was a second away from punching…” His voice trailed off when he glanced over and caught Esme staring daggers at him. She absolutely knew he was talking to Ethan.
“I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “No, Noah, wait—”

  Noah disconnected the call. Peyton’s phone began to buzz, and she smiled.

  “Don’t answer.”

  “I can’t do that to him.” She put the phone to her ear. “Yes, Ethan. No, Ethan. Okay, talk to you later.”

  “Let me guess, he wanted you to punch me?”

  She smiled. “You guessed right.”

  #

  Fake Ethan, who she learned was a lawyer, had been droning on about a trial that just wrapped up today. Apparently, he’d gotten his client off through a little-known loophole and he was obviously proud of himself. He was in the process of explaining said loophole when Esme’s spine began to tingle. She glanced up to see Noah chatting on his phone and she instantly knew he was talking to Real Ethan. If she hadn’t sensed it, the guilt that flashed in Noah’s eyes when they met hers confirmed it. So did her phone ringing three minutes later.

  She’d been waiting on the call for days and now she had the urge to send it directly to voice mail, which she did. Ha. So there. When it rang again, she sighed, knowing if she didn’t answer, he’d probably show up at the restaurant. Scooting her chair from the table, she said, “If you’ll excuse me, I need to take this. It’s my boyfriend.” Shock registered on Fake Ethan’s face and she felt slightly guilty. He was a nice guy, but she wasn’t interested. Best he discover that now. Joelle was staring at her with a questioning look. Hopefully she didn’t blow the whistle on Esme’s white lie.

  She avoided Noah and Peyton’s booth as she headed outside to take the call. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Esme.”

  “Who is this?” Petty, sure, but she didn’t care. He’d hurt her feelings by not calling.

  “Ethan.”

  She sighed, unable to be mean to him. “I know.”

  “I hear you met my brother.”

  “I did.”

  “He said you were having dinner with friends.”

  “I am.”

  Now it was his turn to sigh. “I’m sorry I haven’t called in a few days. I’ve been busy.”

  “It’s fine,” she lied. “It’s not like I’ve been sitting by the phone, waiting for your call,” she lied again. And he might not have called but he did text her, so she shouldn’t be mad. But she wanted to see him, spend time with him. She missed him.

  “Who’s the guy?”

  “What guy are you talking about? You’ll have to be more specific.”

  “The one fawning all over you.”

  Her eyes darted around the parking lot. “Where are you?”

  He chuckled. “Crashed on my sofa, but Noah sent a picture.”

  “Oh, you mean Ethan.”

  “Uh, you do realize it’s me, Ethan, you’re talking to right now.”

  “What, you’re the only man in town with the name? It’s his name, too.” She wouldn’t tell him that she’d nicknamed him Fake Ethan.

  “Ah. Okay. Are you dating him?”

  “Would you care?” She winced. Why was she being so snarky with him?

  “Esme, is everything okay?”

  She turned to see Fake Ethan step outside to check on her. “I’m fine, Ethan.”

  “I know you are,” Real Ethan murmured. “And yes, I would care.”

  She promptly forgot all about the imposter. “You would?”

  “Yeah, I would.”

  Her heart fluttered in her chest. “I’m not dating him. I don’t even know him. He and his friends crashed our girls’ night out.” She risked a glance over her shoulder, glad to see that Fake Ethan had gone back inside. She wasn’t interested in dating him, but she didn’t want to hurt his feelings either.

  “I don’t blame him,” Ethan surprised her by saying. “Any man would be lucky to be with you, Esme.”

  “Apparently not you.” She cringed again. Damn, her big mouth. She really needed to rein in her temper.

  “Especially me,” he murmured. “I haven’t called because I’ve been busy. I didn’t lie about that. But I’ll also admit to being a little freaked about that kiss.”

  “What was wrong with it?” She might not be the most experienced woman on the planet, but she’d kissed enough men to know when it was special. And the kiss she shared with Ethan was extraordinary.

  “Nothing. Everything. Let’s just say you rocked my world and leave it at that.”

  She liked the sound of that. “If it helps, you rocked my world, too.”

  His deep chuckle sounded through the phone and she shivered. This man affected her. “I’d better get back inside. I left Joelle alone with three strange men. She probably wants to wring my neck.”

  “I should have everything settled in the next couple of days. I’ll give you a call.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  Esme couldn’t keep the smile from her face as she reentered the restaurant. She caught Peyton’s eye. The woman had obviously been waiting for her to return. She smiled and Peyton gave her a double thumbs-up before whispering something to Ethan’s brother.

  She headed for the table, only to realize Joelle was alone and looking forlorn as she sipped her margarita. “What happened to…” She blanked on the men’s names, except for Fake Ethan. She settled for, “The guys?”

  Joelle jerked a thumb over her shoulder. Esme followed the direction to see the men seated at a different table, this time with four new women. Fake Ethan caught her gaze and gave her a half shrug. Good for him. He’d been fighting a losing battle talking to her.

  She retook her seat. “They just left you?”

  Joelle settled her glass on the table. “Yeah. After you announced you had a boyfriend, they all lost interest. What the heck was that about, anyway? I thought we were friends. I’ve never seen you with a man or heard you talk about one.”

  Esme flinched. She felt bad the men deserted Joelle. She looked like she was having a good time with Chet or Chaz or whatever his name was. “We are friends. I haven’t mentioned him before because it’s still new. I just met him.”

  Joelle perked up. “Really? What’s his name?”

  Esme really didn’t want to talk about the relationship since there wasn’t one—yet. “His name’s Ethan.”

  Joelle’s brows dipped. “You mean the guy who was just here?”

  “No, a different one. Same name. I met him when I had car trouble last week.”

  Joelle reached across the table and grabbed her arm. “The man who came to your rescue in Chicago?”

  Before she reached Chicago, but close enough. She nodded.

  Joelle sat back in her seat. “I didn’t know you spoke with him again.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

  She hadn’t held out on purpose. Until tonight, their friendship had been working-casual. Esme was a private person anyway, not the kind to discuss her life with everyone. She’d been opening up more lately, revealing details of her first meeting with Ethan to her friends. She’d even shared her run-in with Merle McDougal at the supermarket. Lyra hadn’t had the pleasure of witnessing one of his torch-carrying, megaphone-blaring, off-the-wall protests, but Joelle and Sophie had, and they sympathized with her.

  Their meals arrived, saving her from revealing her deep feelings for a man she barely knew. By the time she was finished, she was ready to go home and crash. When Joelle suggested going to a club for drinks, she politely declined, hoping the other woman wasn’t too disappointed.

  She picked up the check since it was pretty much her fault Joelle’s plans with the men were dashed. She stopped by Noah and Peyton’s booth to bid them goodnight. They didn’t know it yet, but she’d picked up their check, too. It was the least she could do after storming up to their table and making a colossal fool of herself.

  Traffic was nonexistent so she made it home quickly. No lights were shining in Sophie’s side of the house, which made sense since she’d been called into work. Esme’s phone chimed a text as she unlocked her door.

  Are you sti
ll at the restaurant?

  Kicking off her shoes, she headed to the kitchen for the open bottle of wine in the fridge. She poured a glass of the full-bodied Merlot and texted Ethan back. No, I’m home now.

  There was a pause, then: Alone?

  She toyed with the idea of playing with him, but why bother? The sooner he realized they were meant for each other, the quicker they could actually be together. Yes.

  Good. I can sleep. Sweet dreams, Esme.

  Sweet dreams to you, Ethan.

  She had no doubt her dreams would be sweet, and Ethan would be the star.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Hi Merle, this is Esme. Esme Jovanovich.”

  “Esme Jovanovich? Well, well, if it isn’t the wicked witch herself.”

  Merle McDougal couldn’t keep the suspicion out of his voice. Why would Esme be calling him? The woman was a minion of the devil and she’d made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him. “What do you want?”

  “I’m sorry I’m calling so late, but I’ve haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we ran into each other at the store. I’ve even dreamed of you. You were right. We do belong together.”

  She’d dreamed of him? His heart started to pound. He’d dreamed of her, too. Every single night. Maybe the adage was true. There was a fine line between love and hate. He gritted his teeth and admitted, “I don’t see how that can happen when you do Satan’s work and I’m a solider of God.”

  “But Merle, I want to be with you. I’m willing to give up my shop so I can marry you and become the perfect pastor’s wife.”

  Merle’s heart rate soared into triple digits. Could it be possible? Were his fantasies coming to fruition? “Do you truly mean that, Esme?”

  “Oh Merle, I do. But the problem is, I’m afraid if I tell my aunt, she’ll be mad. She’ll forbid me from leaving.”

  He was too close to his goal. He’d take care of the old bat himself if he had to. It was for the greater good, after all. “Do you want me to get rid of her?”

  There was a sharp inhale. “Do you mean kill her?”

  “If needed.” God would forgive him, he was sure. Murder was a mortal sin, but God had chosen him to spread his message and he’d sent Esme to him to be his faithful wife and stand by his side. He’d want Merle to eliminate any roadblocks in his path.

 

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