I gave him a budget of each of my projects, and he stopped me. “We have a slimmer budget for each of my rentals,” he said. “And it looks like you’re used to higher budgets.”
I nodded in agreement. “But I’m flexible. I’m used to higher budget projects, but I can make your places a dream with whatever you give me.”
Ethan examined the folders again, breaking down each of the budgets. While he examined my past work, I watched him. His dark brown eyes scanned the pages while his forearms flexed with each flipped page. I found myself pausing on his fingers—the long, calloused and capable fingers that could excel in any task assigned. I bit my lip and exhaled.
Ethan and I lost a friendship because of the tension between us—because I left the possibility of us behind. I needed to control myself, especially now that I had experienced my one love of a lifetime.
“I need proof that you can do it before I give you an entire contract,” he admitted. “If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t have even set up this meeting.”
“Let me do your house on a budget,” I proposed. “I can prove my efficiency on a budget, and if you like it, hire me.” The idea was out of my mouth before I could think to say anything else. It was an idea in the back of my mind from the moment I saw the house, but I didn’t plan on voicing it.
He looked between me and my folders for a moment before nodding. “Let me draw you up a budget, and we can get to work.”
I knew exactly what I stood to gain with the deal. I couldn’t decide how I felt now that I was working in close contact with Ethan Jones again—the man who almost kept me from leaving our small-town years ago with promises of a life together.
Chapter Three
I realized that the family cookout was a bad idea halfway through the week when I couldn’t get it out of my head. Derrick kept asking when he’d see Garrett again, and I kept wondering about Ethan. What had he been doing with his life since I left for New York? Why did his energy feel so different? Was it the fire that changed him, or was it time?
I had split away from Ethan and his entire family when I left, and I hadn’t rekindled a relationship with any of them, so as I pulled into the crowded field of the senior Jones’s home. I hesitated as I sat in my car. The opportunity that I was working for was career-making in a town as small as Brunswick, Georgia. Until me, interior designers weren’t even thought of, so publicizing my business in one of the biggest summer barbecues was a wise career move. Publicizing myself through the rental properties and apartment complex was equally as wise.
So why was I hesitating?
I turned in my seat and smiled at my little dark-skinned boy. His dark curls were tame compared to usual. “Ready to go?” I asked.
He nodded excitedly and clutched his toy car to his chest as I pulled myself from the car and sat a homemade cheese dip atop my roof. I began unfastening straps. He sat the toy on the seat of the car as I lifted him and stood him on the gravel. “Can I bring my truck?” he asked, reaching for the toy he had just placed on the seat.
I blocked his path. “You don’t want another kid to take it, do you?” I asked.
“No. It’s mine,” he said, confused at the insinuation that someone else may claim it.
I lifted him into my arms and gave his cheek a little peck before closing the door to the car and locking it. I grabbed my dip and made my way into the back yard where I knew the cookout was in full swing. Country music, laughter, and conversations met my ears far before I reached the party itself. All of the Jones family came from across the country for this cookout each year, and I was shocked at how many more people there were than a few years ago. There had to have been over a hundred people scattered through the large yard. Some sat and tanned by the pond while some stood under a series of canopies in the shade.
Half a dozen kids were running around near the pond. The oldest looked no older than six or seven, so when Derrick began wiggling in my arms, I released him to go play. A figure approached me quickly from the side, so I whipped my head up and immediately smiled.
“It has been so long since you’ve stopped by, Miss. Elena,” Ethan’s mom, Pam, chastised. She stood taller than me. Her age was clear in the lines on her face, but her smile made her appear younger.
“I’m sorry,” I admitted as she reached forward and gave me a tight motherly hug.
She laughed off her statement and grabbed the bowl from my hands. “Go sit with Ethan and his brothers.” She pointed at them, sitting beneath a canopy near the pond. Garrett caught her eye and waved.
I nodded. “We’ll have to catch up later,” I promised.
Pam smiled and gave me a small shove toward her boys. I glanced at Derrick and found him playing with the other children without a problem. As I made my way across the yard, nobody stopped me. Most of the faces were unfamiliar, but when I was close enough to Ethan and his brother, my heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t just Ethan and Garrett there. To the left sat Lance Jones, the third of the Jones brothers.
The Jones brothers were widely known in our town for their good looks and kind hearts. All close in age, bagging one of the brothers was thought of as the ultimate win in life. When I was close with Ethan years ago, I struggled to understand the hype, as he was my best friend and the novelty had long worn away. But seeing them all sitting together—each as handsome as the last—reminded me of why our town loved the Jones’s.
Lance Jones leaned forward, one hand on his girlfriend’s knee. He was in the navy, and I knew he was an expert with computers. As the only Jones brother with slightly lighter than black hair, he stood out. His tattooed biceps were on full display in a muscle tee, and his purple haired girl sat expressionless at his side. From afar, she was not someone I’d choose to befriend. Her resting expression was something of nightmares, and her pale skin and colored hair made her vibe more intimidating.
Garrett stood shirtless in nothing but flip flops and neon green swimming trunks. His black hair was cut shorter than Ethan’s—no more than half an inch long on top. While his stomach wasn’t chiseled, he had a few bulges that surely represented abs. They were masked by more fluff than I remembered, though. His genuine happiness oozed toward the sweet-looking woman in his chair. He stood behind her and rubbed her shoulders while talking to Ethan.
Ethan was the first to notice me approaching. A smile pulled at his lips and his right dimple grew prominent. His clothes were the most conservative. He wore a long sleeve black dry-fit shirt and blue swimming trunks. His charcoal black hair was damp and tousled. He showed less skin than his brothers, and his clothes were less flamboyant and noticeable, but he was, without a doubt, the most mesmerizing of the three.
He stood and gestured at his chair. “Ladies first,” he said.
I smiled and shook my head. “I’m good standing. I need to keep my eye on the little man,” I said. All three of the brothers looked toward the group of kids, attempting to build a human pyramid.
“Which one’s yours?” Lance asked, scanning the children with squinted eyes.
I chuckled. “The one trying to get to the top of the pyramid.”
Lance’s laugh boomed, and the girl at his side scowled at him. He turned as if he could feel the heat of her glance. “Nobody’s going to jump out and kill you at our family barbecue, Linds,” he told her sarcastically, but his hand on her knee tightened before he turned back to me. “He doesn’t look much like you.”
I nodded and watched as Ethan turned the chair so it was angled toward Derrick. I threw a smile at him and sat. His skin was far darker than mine, and he was a carbon copy of Bruce. There was no disputing that we looked nothing alike. “He looks just like my husband,” I said. The memory was sweet, hardly tinged in the sadness I was used to. I cleared my throat. “By the way, it’s nice seeing you again. How’s the navy? You look way different.”
“Loving the navy,” Lance said, leaning back in his chair. “I’m stationed up in Chicago right now. And I bulked up, baby,” he said, flexing through his muscle shi
rt.
The girl at his side scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Don’t let him fool you. I could take him.”
Lance didn’t argue as he looked at her. His eyes narrowed in an expression that said “don’t shit on my moment. I’m trying to impress my friends.” Something between them told me that she was right. I had no doubt that the little purple haired women could take us all on and win. “Are you in the navy, too?” I asked her.
She shook her head but didn’t verbally respond as she stared me down.
“Ignore Lindsey,” the other woman said. She sat beside me as Garrett rubbed her shoulders gently. “She’s not exactly well-versed in proper manners. I’m Sylvia, Garrett’s wife.” She extended a hand and I took it with a polite smile.
“Elena.” I eyed Lindsey, expecting a rude rebuttal, but she only smirked at Sylvia’s words.
The men all resumed conversation around us, and I felt Ethan’s deep rumbling voice above me as he spoke and laughed with his brothers. I couldn’t help but be hyper aware of every word as Sylvia continued talking. “You mentioned you’re married?”
“Was,” I replied. “He passed away.”
That was the point in the conversation where things typically grew awkward and tense. Her expression didn’t grow pitiful, though. “How long ago?” she asked.
“Three years,” I admitted. I didn’t like talking about it, so I didn’t offer more.
“Are you and Ethan together now?”
I snorted. “Absolutely not. I’m designing his house.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re that girl,” she remarked. “Garrett told me that they were considering hiring a girl to redecorate their rentals. That’s so exciting. Is it a fun job?”
The change in subject was appreciated. I raised my head and peeked at Ethan above me, hoping he wasn’t listening. His eye contact and amused smile told me all I needed to know. Why was he amused?
“It’s great. It’s hard to find people who need a decorator around here, but when I do find them, it’s a fun gig. What do you do?” I asked.
“Hair stylist,” she said. “It’s also a fun gig, and everyone around here needs someone. I’m not used to this small-town thing yet.”
“Where are you from?” I asked. She didn’t sound like a northerner.
“Raleigh.” I nodded in understanding. “Garrett made me move here when we got married, and how could I tell him no?” she joked, throwing a feigned scowl in his direction. He reached down and kissed the top of her head, not missing a beat. It was a small gesture, but one that sent a pang through my heart. Bruce used to be the same way.
Ethan began kneading my shoulders behind me, and after seconds, the tension had left me. He had no way of knowing what ran through my head. I looked up at him, and just as before, he was gazing down on my face. I furrowed my eyebrows and he leaned forward and whispered in my ear. “We were friends for years. I know when something is bothering you.”
I bit my lower lip and leaned into his hands. I wasn’t betraying Bruce by allowing a friend to massage my shoulders.
I glanced toward Derrick briefly and made eye contact. He came rushing toward us and sprang onto the back of Garrett’s legs. “Tall man,” he shouted, pounding at Garrett.
Sylvia covered her mouth. “Isn’t he the most precious thing you’ve ever seen?” I laughed as Derrick laid it on thick with a smile to her. He knew when he was being fawned over, and he ate it right up.
“Mommy, can tall man and me go swimming?” he asked. I eyed the lake wearily before looking at Garrett.
“I think we should invite everyone swimming,” Garrett proposed. I glanced at Lance, who smiled wildly and lifted Lindsey in his arms.
“I agree,” Lance shouted, running toward the water. For all she struggled, Lindsey couldn’t break free of his bear hold as he dove them into the lake.
Sylvia laughed out loud at Lindsey as she resurfaces with a scowl permanently fixed on her face. If looks could kill, the one she gave Lance would have dropped him in a heartbeat. “I could use a dip,” she said, standing. Sylvia looked down at Derrick and her smile widened. “Want to race to the pond?” she asked him. He looked at me and I nodded.
Derrick’s gaze went up to Ethan before he spoke. “You too. You have to take off your shirt or it will get wet. Leave it with mommy/”
Ethan shook his head. “I burn if I take it off, kid,” he said. Ethan’s earlier words rang true when I realized that I was still able to read him like an open book just as he had read my discomfort. He wasn’t being entire truthful. His tanned complexion told me that much. I read discomfort in every crevice of his face.
“You’d better go chase Sylvia before she beats you,” I told Derrick, patting him on the behind and sending him off. He struggled to peel his shirt off as quickly as he could, tangling his arms in it. With my help, he raced toward the pond. “Be careful,” I shouted.
“I won’t take my eyes off of him, mama,” Sylvia shouted. I felt much more comfortable when she grabbed a pair of arm floaties before entering the water. Derrick was a good swimmer, but things sometimes went wrong in water, and I couldn’t be too careful.
I kept my eyes glued on Derrick for a few minutes before I was confident that he was safe. “Garrett wouldn’t let a fly harm that kid,” Ethan promised, sitting at my side.
“I know. I just have to make sure.”
“So how does it feel coming back around? Everyone missed you,” Ethan asked. I shrugged. It was nice being around people who had been close to me before my life with Bruce, but it also felt like two worlds were colliding. My world with Bruce was always so separate from my world with Ethan, and I kept them that way intentionally.
“It’s weird, but nice,” I admitted. “It’s been so long that I don’t feel like I have a place anymore. And I don’t know how to approach you. You’re different.”
I spared a glance at him before looking back at the water where Derrick sat on Garrett’s shoulders. “Different how?” he asked. He looked genuinely curious.
“Grown up, I guess. You aren’t as playful, and you never would have passed up an opportunity for some water fun,” I teased, poking him on the chest. “I can’t put my finger on it, but you’re more reserved.”
He nodded. “A lot has changed. You’re different too—grown up, I mean. We’re not the young partiers we used to be,” he claimed. “It’s nice having you back. It took a while to readjust to a life without you.”
He looked unsure with himself as he made the claim. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I couldn’t come back. It would have been too much with Bruce,” I told him.
“We were just friends.”
I shook my head. “I recall being a little more than that when I left.” He didn’t say anything. The last thing he said to me was that he promised he’d wait for me. I knew I couldn’t promise the same. I loved him, and I thought we could be together after I returned from New York, but then I met Bruce. “We both know that’s not true,” I said.
I wished I hadn’t let go of our friendship. “It’s not,” he agreed. “We don’t have to go back to not talking.”
I nodded and glanced at his shirt. “Why won’t you take off your shirt?” I asked compulsively. I hadn’t intended to say anything about it, but it was the one thing I couldn’t figure out. He used to walk around without a shirt at every outdoor event. He was never shy about the six pack that he worked hard to maintain. I knew he’d gotten burned from the fire that saved my son and me, but was it so bad that he thought he needed to wear a shirt?
“It will scare the kids,” he said seriously. The lack of humor in his voice broke my heart.
“You couldn’t scare the kids if you tried.”
“You haven’t seen me.”
My heart shattered at the confidence lost in such a beautiful man. “Show me.”
Ethan looked at me for a moment and shook his head. “I can’t show you,” he told me. He grabbed ahold of my hand and slowly slid it beneath his shirt. I didn’t break eye contact
. The first thing I noticed was the hot ridges on his smooth stomach. My cheeks reddened as I moved to the location where he was attempting to guide my hand. As he moved my hand to his left side, I felt it. The side was not as smooth as the skin of his stomach. Inconsistent dips and grooves of his skin met my fingertips. I trailed my fingers lightly up his entire side and around his back. The entirety of his left side was destroyed. “It goes down my leg and up my shoulder.”
I didn’t know what to say. “You got that for us?” I asked.
He nodded. “It’s my job.”
I realized my fingers hadn’t left their place on his stomach, and I flinched away. I cradled my hand in my lap, unsure of how to respond. I had no idea he gave so much. I’d never blamed him for Bruce’s death, but I had also never realized that half of his body was covered in brutal scars from the fire.
“Yo, Ethan!” I turned at the shout and found three men rushing through the barbecue. Ethan’s face dropped theatrically when they neared.
“Can’t you see I’m having a conversation?” Ethan huffed, placing his hand on my knee in the way Garrett had earlier done with Sylvia.
Each of them smiled and nodded at me, all tossing “nice to meet you” in my direction. “Half the family is in the pond and you’re sitting here?” the taller, dark skinned man asked, playfully punching his shoulder. “Come on grandpa.” He looked much younger than Ethan, and I laughed.
“Gain some damned weight, Nehemiah,” Ethan chastised, pounding his slender stomach. The boy had clearly worked out heavily, but he was slender.
“If you’d stock the fire station with enough food for a shift, I’d gain some weight.”
“Or hire a chef so we can have dinner one or two nights a week,” another man chimed in. He clutched a can of beer in his hands, and Ethan chuckled.
“I don’t run the station shit. Talk to Scott,” Ethan said, gesturing to the third man. Ethan reached forward and took the nearly full beer from the man’s hand. “Benji, stop being a dumbass. You’re on duty.”
Hearts Ablaze (Courageous Hearts Series Book 2) Page 2
