The cash register in her brain started to chime. How had he been able to afford that? And what about the Lasik he’d claimed to have had ten years ago? Or his Ivy League law degree? Yeah, there were scholarships, but even Evel Knievel would have been hard-pressed to make the leap from foster care to the University of Pennsylvania.
The accountant in her ran a quick spreadsheet—and didn’t like the number she came up with.
Who was Ethan Webb? Weren’t you supposed to find answers in church? Not today. Today only brought questions, and she had no idea where to start looking for answers.
IT TOOK THEM NEARLY ten minutes to make the forty-foot walk from their pew to the social hall. Every three or four steps, someone tugged on Ethan’s arm and he bent to let them whisper into his ear.
He responded to all of them with, “Talk to me later.”
Finally, he set Pete’s car seat on a table in the social hall. He pulled out her chair, helped her settle in next to Father Jim, then took a seat across the table.
Almost immediately, a gangly, awkward teenaged boy set a tray with two chocolate chip muffins, two cups of coffee, and two bowls of fruit in front of them. Ethan reached for the cream. “Thank you, Manuel. You remembered how much I like chocolate chip muffins.” He gestured toward her with his other hand. “This is my... friend, Stephanie.”
Friend? Hurt and anger flashed through her. Was he ashamed to claim her as his wife? Hadn’t she risked everything when she’d gone full-on public with him? And he couldn’t return the favor? The truth struck her square in the heart: she meant nothing to him. She swallowed hard, pushing her emotions down. This was a business deal, and CEOs didn’t cry. No matter how much they wanted to. She somehow managed a smile and extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Manuel.”
The teen stared at Stephanie’s hand, then back at Ethan. Confusion painted his thin face as he made eye contact with Ethan.
Ethan blew out a short breath. “We’ll talk later. For now, remember the business handshake I taught you? This is the time to use it. It’s automatic with another man, but always wait for a woman to make the first move like she has. Take her hand, make sure the webs of your thumbs meet, grasp it firmly but not too hard, that’s it. Two gentle pumps and drop it. Good! Now, why don’t you show me your report card first?”
Manuel pulled a dirty, crumpled ball out of his pocket. He sheepishly handed it to Ethan. “Manuel,” Ethan shook his head with a sigh. “We’ve talked about this. Your report card is an important document. Important documents need to be taken care of. What do you think a judge would say if I handed his clerk a document that looked like this?”
Manuel mumbled, “He wouldn’t like it.”
“He wouldn’t like it at all. But I am proud of you for remembering to bring your report card to show me today.” Ethan smoothed out the ball of paper on the table in front of him. “Wow! This is impressive. Another four point-oh. Good, job, my friend, now go see Father Jim for your paycheck.”
Stephanie could have sworn the boy who walked away from Ethan was different from the one who’d brought their breakfast moments earlier: straighter, taller, more confident. “Paycheck?”
Ethan nodded with a frown, but his eyes shone with pride for his young friend. “They understand that learning is their job, and people get paid for doing their jobs. It’s merit-based, the better the grades, the more they earn. A C is neutral, anything less, they owe the parish. They have to work around the church or the neighborhood to pay us back. It teaches them a sense of responsibility, what it means to be part of a community. They get to atone with dignity. Next quarter is a clean slate. I’ve promised to pay for college for every kid who graduates with a three-point or better. For some of these families, report card money means the difference between having electricity or not. It’s kind of a big deal.”
Stephanie watched Manuel hand his cash to an older woman. “He’s you.”
The older woman tried to give Manuel a bill back, but he refused. Ethan’s smile grew; his glistening eyes met hers. “They all are. I got out. I plan to pull as many behind me as I can.”
The rest of the students lined up respectfully. They glowed when Ethan praised them. The few he chastised left with a smile, believing Ethan’s assurances their mistakes wouldn’t be held against them.
She watched the mothers, some of them crying, others waiting their turn to speak with him privately, all seeking the world-class legal advice worth hundreds of dollars an hour he gladly gave them for free.
More than once, she saw cash or a business card migrate discreetly from Ethan’s hand to another with a gentle squeeze.
Her professional asshole was a professional angel, and he trusted her enough to share this part of himself. Somehow, she knew trust wasn’t something he gave freely. But, at least on some level, he trusted her.
But he didn’t love her, and he never would.
“You’re good for him,” Father Jim whispered into her ear.
She jerked toward his voice.
The old man’s eyes twinkled. “You didn’t think I’d miss those shiny, new wedding rings, did you?”
Stephanie covered her left hand. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
Father Jim waved her off. “He’ll tell me when he’s ready. He’s a special man. He’s much admired here. We can’t give him what he needs, but I think you can.”
Stephanie frowned. “He introduced me to Manuel as his friend. He doesn’t want anything I can give him.”
The priest paused to pay a teen. “Give him time. I assure you, he’s worth waiting for. What did you think of my homily?”
Stephanie struggled with her response. “I can see how some people in a neighborhood like this might feel like giving up.”
Father Jim nodded. “In today’s world, you might be surprised how many affluent people feel the same way.”
Her head snapped back. It didn’t make sense.
The old priest smiled. “Sometimes, my words are like live grenades. There’s a delay before they go off. It’ll come to you.” He turned to pay the next student.
Father Jim’s words weren’t the only things that could explode on her.
CHAPTER 35
ETHAN SET THE GROCERY bags on the kitchen island next to the baby’s car seat and started pulling out the lunch ingredients they’d purchased on the way home. “You’ve been quiet since we left St. Al’s. Is something wrong? Did someone say or do something to upset you?”
She freed the baby from his car seat and folded him into her arms, tucking his head under her chin. “Father Jim said he thought I’d—” her voice quavered, “—be good for you.”
His brows knit. “And that made you sad?” Maybe it was her time of the month, which would mean this whole grand experience would be over. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.
A single tear traced its way down her cheek. “No, it didn’t, friend.” She clutched Pete to her chest like a shield.
Oh, shit. “You’re mad at me? What did I do?” That was a stupid question. Whatever she came up with, he’d admit to it and beg her forgiveness. Anything to keep her happy. Anything to keep her by his side.
She stared at him over Pete’s head. “You never introduced me to anyone as your wife. You told Manuel we were friends. Farther Jim commented on our rings but then made a lame excuse for you.” Her tears flowed in earnest, her shoulders heaving. She clung to Pete the way a drowning woman latched onto a piece of flotsam after a shipwreck. Her chin quivered and her voice shook as she stumbled over the words. “A-are you ashamed of me?”
Him. Ashamed of her. Now wouldn’t that be an ironic twist? He crossed the room in two long strides and pulled her and Pete into his arms, tucking her head under his. They probably looked like Russian nesting dolls, but it felt so right standing there as a family. He could almost see a tiny, redheaded spitfire in her arms instead of Pete. Him. Her. Their baby. Together.
Would it be so bad to have someone to come home to every night? To have som
eone to love and make love to? To raise a family with? If she didn’t love him, could it be enough that he loved her? He loved her. Yeah, it was happening again. All aboard the crazy train; he might as well settle in and enjoy the ride while it lasted.
He leaned back to make sure they weren’t smothering Pete and kissed her forehead. “No, Steph. No! I could never be ashamed of you. You have class and style. You’re beautiful and sexy and kind and smart... everything any man would be proud to call his wife.” And I’m not good enough for you. “But you’re right. I should have introduced you as my wife. It’s just that, yeah, well, um, about Manuel—”
“I’m waiting.” She cupped the back of Pete’s head as she bounced him gently.
“It’s just that, um,” he hesitated to assemble the right words. “Manuel came out to me a few weeks before I met you by telling me he was in love with me and wanted to, uh, you know, be with me. You know, like be with me.”
She sniffled. “That must have been an intense conversation.”
He gently traced her spine. “It was, indeed, but I let him down as easily as I could. He’s already experienced enough rejection, and I didn’t want to be another one. I told him I was flattered, but that I wasn’t wired that way, and even if I was, I wasn’t ready for a relationship. I did everything I could to make sure he knew I didn’t judge him. This morning, when I saw the hurt in his eyes, I didn’t want to add to that by telling him I’d married someone else so soon after he’d poured his heart out.”
She hiccupped. “Underneath all of that bluster, you’re as soft as Pete’s mink teddy bear, aren’t you?”
Great, she was starting to sound like Megan. Did that mean she... understood him? Accepted him? Liked him? Something cracked deep inside; he could almost hear the clatter as parts of the public mask he’d worked so hard to mold fell away. “Please, don’t let that information leave this house; I have a reputation to uphold. I only attack people who deserve it, and Manuel’s a kid who confused friendly attention with love. To tell you the truth, I’ve made the same mistake myself a time or two.” He rolled his eyes. “Or three. But I’ve spent so much time helping him build the confidence he needs to complement that huge brain of his that I didn’t want to send him back into his shell. I’m sorry I hurt you.”
She secured Pete back into his car seat and turned, her pain as obvious as the sun pouring in through the kitchen window. Pain he had put there. More pieces of his defenses fell away. He opened his arms, inviting her back to him.
She hesitated, and in that heartbeat, he admitted to himself that one-sided love wouldn’t be enough. He needed her to love him. He had to find a way to make that happen, but the process couldn’t start until she came to him.
She approached like a timid rabbit. He held his breath until he felt her head snuggle in under his chin. He closed his arms around her with a deep sigh. They fit, and they had since she’d tumbled into his arms that first morning in his office.
“I know my life has been damned near perfect, but I have confidence issues too,” she mumbled into his chest.
He wouldn’t have believed her yesterday. Hell, he wouldn’t have believed her an hour ago. He believed her now, but what was he going to do about it?
“Let me get lunch started while you feed the baby and put him down for his nap. Then, we can have some adult time.” It was as good a place as any to start.
CHAPTER 36
THE FIRST KISS CAME out of nowhere. Her ear, oh Lord how she loved it when he found the spot behind her ear. She heard it almost before she felt it, the nanosecond of anticipation telegraphed the coming sensation to the rest of her before the groan she couldn’t keep contained escaped.
“No peeking. Sneak attacks are always the best.”
She couldn’t argue with that. She didn’t want to argue at all. What difference did it make who he told or what he said? As long as he used his lips and tongue like this, she wouldn’t complain.
She nearly rocketed off the bed as the soft scrape of his teeth assaulted the juncture of her shoulder and neck. That alone had her ready to attack him. She tried to turn over.
He pushed her gently back onto the bed. “Not yet. This is about the journey, not the destination. We will get there, but not until you’ve enjoyed every scenic detour along the way.”
He certainly knew all the strategic spots.
Supple warm hands, slick with scented oil skimmed over her shoulders, pausing near her nose.
“Take a deep breath. Lavender relieves stress.” His lips, millimeters from her ear, claimed her lobe.
Stress? After that, the only stress she had nestled between her legs, begging to be released. “It smells divine.”
Another kiss landed on her shoulder. “The best part is it’s edible.” His tongue traced across her shoulders. “Delicious.”
He pulled back. She immediately missed his warmth, the connection. She whimpered.
“Patience, my love.”
My love? It almost sounded as if he meant it. And in this moment, he might have. Incrementally, he worked the fragrant oil into her back, poking, prodding, sliding; his hands seemingly everywhere at once yet concentrating on a single spot.
“Hello, freckle. I’m glad to meet you.” He kissed a spot near her hip.
She giggled. “I’m a redhead, if you stop to kiss every freckle you see, we will never leave this bed.”
He licked at a second spot near the first. “Is that a problem?” He nipped at a third spot.
Not at all. “Carry on.” He was nearing the spot that craved his touch next. Anticipation filled her as he barely brushed her ass and skipped to her thighs. “Go back!” she begged.
“Not yet. I’m saving that for a delectable dessert.” His deep chuckle filled the room. “Okay, so this is a little bit about me.” He lightly tapped each cheek. “Later, darlings.”
Darlings. Such a sweet, old-fashioned term of endearment. Something from a different time and place. But there was no other place she’d rather be.
His mammoth hands circled her thighs. Digging deeply into the muscle, he worked his way down to her calves before claiming first one foot, then the other. With strong, sure strokes, he worked his thumbs into her arches before caressing each toe. He worked his pinky finger between each toe, thrusting in and out, mimicking what he would do once he turned her over. The man sure loved feet. Thank you, Jesus.
Her hips bucked in response, the sheet barely making contact with her swollen nub, taunting, teasing; a frustrated growl escaped her. “Please.”
He let her foot slip from his hands. “Since you asked so nicely.” He planted a knee on either side of her and nestled himself between her thighs. Gently, he massaged her ass as his hips rocked in time with his hands. Over and over the heels of his hands dug into her pliant flesh, his palms resting on the soft rise as his fingers made slow circles.
“So good. Don’t stop.” Her climax built, creeping closer.
He pulled away. “Turn over.”
Was that gurgling noise coming from her? Desperate for release, she complied. This might have been about her, but he was in control. And she liked it.
His hoarse whisper filled her with anticipation. “Let me savor this view.”
Her view wasn’t bad either. Filtered by lust and desire, his features blurred and blended as he closed in for a kiss. Butterfly soft, his lips brushed hers, then the tip of her nose, and each closed eyelid before scorching her lips with a blistering fury. A kiss she felt in her well-loved toes.
He reverently took a breast in each hand. “So perfect, so beautiful.”
It was nice to know his language skills were equally impaired. But he didn’t need language; he let his hands weave his story of passion, preparing her pebbled nipples for his greedy mouth.
“Close your eyes. Don’t watch, feel. Anticipate. Enjoy the surprise.”
She did as he asked. Where would his lips land next? Or would it be a caress? Or a pinch? It was all of those and more. She hissed as his tongue lapped
at her nipple. Her body tightened and convulsed as his tongue snaked down to circle and penetrate her navel.
“Please.” Her voice barely a whisper.
“Your wish is my command, my fair lady.” He gerrymandered his way through her fiery curls, drawing slow patterns with his fingers.
She struggled to keep her eyes closed, concentrating on the points of heat radiating from his fingers, rocking her hips with the rhythm of his caresses, willing them closer to the throbbing mass of nerves just beyond his touch.
His lips closed over her without warning, sucking her aggressively between his lightly clenched teeth, only to segue to staccato taps of his demanding tongue before it forced her back through his teeth, sucking her back into his mouth. The sharp nip, the soft lips, the lashing tongue unleashed subtle sensations that contrasted yet complemented as she built to a shattering release.
“Please, I want you inside me when I come.” She needed to feel his power, his strength. She wanted his size to stretch and fill her, to drive her beyond her endurance, to lead her gently home.
She cried out with his first deep thrust, the leading edge of her climax hanging barely out of reach. She matched his next move with one of her own, reaching for the sweetness now brushing at her fingertips before retreating.
He rose to his knees, pulling her feet over his shoulders, pummeling her without mercy until her moans of frustration became screams of satisfaction and blended with his.
She collapsed into his arms and laid beside him for long minutes, neither able to form words. Words? Did they still exist? The intensity of her orgasm baffled her. It was more than a physical release; it encompassed her mind, her heart, her whole being as well as her body. It was nearly a religious experience.
No, there weren’t words, only actions and reactions. As her heart rate slowed, a blanket of peace settled over her. She drifted in the space between waking and sleeping with her arms around the man she loved.
For Pete's Sake: An Enemies to Lovers Marriage of Convenience Standalone Romance Novel (Tobin Tribe Book 1) Page 18
