Welcome to Pembrooke: the complete Pembrooke series

by Prince, Jessica

  24

  Ethan

  It wasn’t until I got to Mabel’s Corner Market and began scanning the aisles that I started to feel anxiety knot in my stomach. That hope I’d been holding on to that inspiration would strike when I got there was nowhere to be found.

  “Fuck me,” I grunted, running my hands over my face. It was when I’d finally dropped my hands and the items in front of me lit up like a beacon, that inspiration finally struck. “Genius!” I hissed to myself as I grabbed the items and tossed them in the basket. I ran around the rest of the store like a mad man and got everything else I needed to make Eliza dinner.

  Just as I started for the register, something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention, stopping me in my tracks. I probably stood there for a good three minutes contemplating if I should toss them in the basket or not, and finally decided better safe than sorry. I didn’t have to tell Eliza I’d purchased the condoms. I wasn’t making assumptions about where the night might lead. But if things went in that direction naturally — Christ, please let them head in that direction — I’d kick my own ass if we had to stop because neither of us had any protection.

  I wasn’t even going to consider what I’d do if she just so happened to have condoms of her own. My head would probably explode. Better off to just grab my own box if we went down that road.

  “Well hey there, football star,” Mabel crooned, smiling that creepy smile at me.

  “Hey there, Mabel.”

  “Saw about you and that sweet Eliza on the interweb.” She winked, and good God, that wink made me shiver… not in a good way. “So is it true? Are you officially off the market and cozying up with the Sheriff’s daughter?”

  I didn’t hesitate in my answer. “Yep. We’re together.” I just left out the part where Eliza wasn’t totally onboard just yet. I had complete faith that I could get her there. And I was hoping sooner than later, because I was running out of patience.

  “So you’re grocery shopping for your new girl? That’s so cute.” She smiled as I slid my basket across the countertop for her to start scanning.

  “Thanks,” I grinned, feeling a new boost of confidence, “I’m making her dinner tonight.”

  At my admission, Mabel froze in the middle of emptying the basket. “You’re kidding right?” she asked, her weathered skin wrinkling even more as she curled her lip at me.

  “What?”

  Her gaze bounced from the items she’d emptied from the basket back to me. Her look screamed loud and clear that she thought I was an idiot.

  “Grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup are football season staples!” I argued.

  “You’re gonna feed a professional cook, a woman who went to culinary school, tomato-flavored paste in a can and white bread with melted, processed cheese.” It wasn’t a question, and if I was reading between the lines correctly, what she actually meant was ‘Have you lost your fucking mind?’. But I didn’t really have much of a choice.

  “Look, I’ve never cooked before, but I figured I couldn’t really screw up soup and a hot sandwich. It’s the best I could do on a time crunch, okay?” I didn’t know why I was defending myself to the woman, it’s not like her opinion really mattered in the long run, but as she stared me down — obviously finding me lacking — I just couldn’t help myself.

  “Mmmhmm.” Her hum was chalk-full of distaste. “Well, let’s just hope you’re better at it than your sister. And I’m fairly certain you won’t be needing these,” she held up the box of condoms. “Not with what you’ve got planned for dinner.”

  “Just ring everything up,” I ground out between my clenched teeth, thinking to myself that, never again would I engage Mabel in conversation. It never went well for me.

  * * *

  Eliza

  Oh God.

  Ohgodohgodohgod.

  What had I gotten myself into? I was standing in my bathroom, wrapped in nothing but a towel as water dripped from my hair onto my shoulders, losing my mind because I’d agreed to a date with Ethan Prewitt.

  And what scared me the most was that I was actually excited. The thought of him in my kitchen, making me dinner because he wanted to take care of me had a swarm of butterflies fluttering around in my belly. I felt that guard I kept up around him lowering, and no matter what I did to keep it in place, the damn thing just wouldn’t work.

  He said he loved me. Somewhere deep, deep down I believed him. It was just that giving him my full trust again was harder that putting my heart in his hands. Because if I were being honest with myself, he already had my heart. Always had.

  That was part of the problem. Ever since my mother abandoned me, giving someone else the power to hurt me that way was something I’d always shied away from. I’d let Ethan in once before and look what had happened. Would allowing him in a second time really be smart?

  And what would happen once he went back to Denver.

  There were so many questions swirling around in my head, questions I couldn’t figure out the answers to, that I couldn’t think straight.

  But despite all the questions, all the doubt, one thing was standing out in my mind the most. I wanted to give this a shot. I wanted to believe him. And most of all, I wanted to see where this would go, if I were strong enough to survive whatever was to happen.

  With a frustrated sigh, I swiped the fog off the bathroom mirror and stared at my reflection.

  “You can do this,” I whispered to myself. “You’re a strong, independent woman. It’s just a date.” I pulled in a breath and closed my eyes for several seconds. “Just a date with a really, really gorgeous guy that you’ve loved pretty much your whole life that’s hurt you once already.”

  Shit, I really sucked at this pep-talk stuff.

  I gave myself a whole body shake and looked back in the mirror. “You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve—”

  I ended on a small shriek when my cellphone on the bathroom counter began to ring, startling me from my monologue.

  “Hello?” I answered without looking at the screen, holding a hand to my chest in an effort to calm my erratic heart.

  “You’re in troooooouble.”

  I pulled the phone away from my ear and looked to see who the caller was. “Chloe? What are you talking about? Why am I in trouble?”

  “Your father is going to flip when he sees those pictures that are floating all around the internet of you and Ethan.”

  “Shit,” I hissed out a breath, propping one hand on the counter to hold myself up. “Has he seen them yet?”

  “Not yet, seeing as he’s all man and doesn’t peruse trashy magazines online on a regular basis. Is it true?”

  “Is what true?”

  “You and Ethan,” she shouted through the line. “They’re saying you’re a couple. Is it true? I mean, I saw the pictures. You two look quite cozy.”

  “Oh my God, Chloe,” I whisper yelled, not wanting Ethan to overhear in case he’d already made it back from the store. “You were there the night of the football game. You know those pictures were taken out of context.”

  “So… it’s not true then?” she asked, sounding somewhat defeated. Damn it, how had this become my life? I actually missed the boring days where I went to work, came home, drank wine, and went to bed.

  “No… yes… Ugh! I don’t… I don’t know, okay. I’m a little confused right now.”

  She remained silent for several seconds. “Well what does that mean?”

  I turned and rested my butt on the counter, using my free hand to massage my forehead. “Things are… a little complicated right now.” I blew out a breath and admitted, “Ethan’s making me dinner tonight. It’s kind of a date.”

  “Kind of a date?” she asked incredulously. “How is something kind of a date? I swear to God, I don’t understand young people these days.”

  I let out a small laugh. “Okay, so it is a date, all right? Happy now?”

  “Extremely,” she answered exuberantly. “But you’re going to need to tell
your father before he finds out from someone in town. You know how he gets. How a man as hotheaded as he is was ever granted access to firearms is beyond me, I swear. He’s not going to like that Ethan didn’t come to him first.”

  My back straightened and I was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to defend Ethan. “Well he’ll just have to get over it. I’m not a little girl anymore, Chlo. I’m twenty-two.”

  “I know that, sweetheart. And you know that. But when, in all your life, have you known your father to be rational when it comes to his girls?”

  “I just…” God, I couldn’t handle any more stress. “I need you to cover for me for a little while longer, okay? I just need to get my head around this before I talk to Daddy…” I trailed off before giving her the honest truth. “I’m scared,” I said in a quiet voice. “I’m scared, and I have no clue what I’m doing. I just need a little more time.”

  “Okay, honey,” she answered softly, giving me the sweet, nurturing Chloe I needed just then. “I’ve got your back, you know that. I always will. But let me just say this… sometimes the things that scare us the most are the things that turn out to mean everything. You open yourself up to what’s happening between you and Ethan, and I have a feeling you’ll get the kind of happy you’ve always deserved, but never allowed yourself to have.”

  I wasn’t quite sure I believed in what she was saying as much as she did, but that ball of tension that had been coiling in my chest began to loosen ever so slightly. I opened my mouth to thank her when a sudden loud, piercing screech filled the air all around me.

  “Shit! Chloe, I have to go.”

  “What’s happening?”

  “I’m not sure, but I have an idea.” Boy, did I have an idea. Ethan was Harlow’s brother, after all. “I’ll call you later, promise. Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  Rushing from the bathroom to the bedroom, I dropped my towel and snatched on a pair or loose, cotton sweats and a tank before taking back off in the direction of the kitchen. Because a Prewitt and smoke detectors did not bode well.

  25

  Eliza

  Coming to a grinding halt at the sight in front of me, I couldn’t do anything other than slap my hands over my mouth and stare, wide-eyed, as I tried my best to suppress my laughter.

  “Son of a fucking bitch, mother of sweet Hell,” Ethan growled as he stood on a chair in the middle of the kitchen, one of my floral patterned hand towel’s in his hands as he waved it frantically back and forth in front of the smoke detector. The kitchen and living room were steadily filling with smoke as Ethan continued to curse and fan the still chirping detector.

  Finally losing the war against my laughter, I dropped my hands and began giggling hysterically. His gaze shot to mine. “Open the door and windows!”

  I spun on my bare feet and ran to the front door, jerking in wide open before moving to the living room window to do the same. Once finished with that, I rushed back into the kitchen, skirting Ethan where he stood on the chair… still waving the towel, and twisted the nobs to the burners, turning them off. I grabbed the now ruined skillet and pot and tossed them both into the sink. I turned the water on and let it cool the scorched metal with a loud hiss as the smoke finally began to clear from the room and the loud screeching thankfully stopped.

  Ethan slowly climbed down from the chair, put it back at the dining room table and made his way to where I stood by the sink. “You destroyed my Emeril Lagasse cookware,” I said in a choked voice, trying not to burst into another fit of laughter as I picked up the skillet and studied the charred-beyond-recognition food that seemed to be permanently bonded to the bottom. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was looking at, but at first glance it looked like a brick of tar.

  I felt his breath on the back of my neck as he said, “I’ll by you more.”

  His low, gravelly voice danced up my spine, sending a shiver through my body. I dropped the skillet and picked up the pot. I couldn’t even begin to guess what had been in there. “What were you cooking? Or trying to cook?” My giggle turned into a yelp when Ethan’s hands came to my waist and he began to tickle.

  “Grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup,” he answered once he was finished with his tickle torture.

  I couldn’t have stopped my face from curling in disgust if I wanted to… which I really didn’t, because eww.

  “It’s a football season staple!” he shouted at the ceiling before finally looking back down at me. “Okay… so I might have over exaggerated my skills in the kitchen.”

  I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face. He just looked so cute and disheveled. “Exaggerated by how much?” I asked, having a feeling I already knew the answer, but wanting to make him sweat a little more just for the fun of it.

  Reaching up, he scratched at the back of his neck uncomfortably before stating, “In the sense that I’ve never cooked anything before.”

  Those walls around me just kept getting lower and lower. But at that very moment, I felt way too good to stress about it. I felt light, carefree. Standing in my smoky apartment with my ruined cookware, I actually felt… happy.

  “Come on,” I said, grabbing Ethan’s hand and pulling him toward the door that lead to the interior stairs.

  His fingers tightened around mine as he asked, “Where are we going?”

  “To my real kitchen. It’s time for your first cooking lesson.”

  We walked down the stairs in silence, Ethan’s hand gripping mine tightly as I lead him down the hall and through the door that led into the kitchen of Sinful Sweets Café. The restaurant was closed for the night so we had the whole place to ourselves, and as I flipped the switches, turning on the lights, I released a deep breath, feeling at peace, at home in the place of my dreams. For me, there was nothing better than cooking…

  Or at least that’s how I felt before Ethan came back into my life.

  I had to tug my hand twice to get him to let it go, but once he did I walked over to the shelf and pulled two, freshly laundered and folded aprons down, tossing one to him. “Put this on. You’re going to cook in a legit kitchen, you have to dress the part.”

  With a sexy smirk that did crazy things to my insides, Ethan doubled wrapped the strings of the apron around his waist and tied it off in the front. I did the same as I headed for the walk-in to start pulling out everything I needed.

  “So what are we making?” he asked as I moved past him and over to the prep counter, where I dropped all my ingredients.

  “I’m going to start off easy on you—”

  “Thank fuck,” he muttered under his breath, causing me to laugh again. My laughter instantly died when, in two quick steps, he was directly in front of me, his hand coming up to rest against my cheek as his thumb dragged gently across my lower lip. “I love it when you laugh,” he said softly. “So beautiful all the time, but when you laugh…” He gave his head a small shake. “Fucking gorgeous. Most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

  My body shivered at his declaration, and I found myself swaying closer to him as if my body had a mind of its own. I cleared my throat and tried to shake the sudden cloudiness taking over my head at Ethan’s close proximity.

  “Um… okay. I’m going to teach you to make spaghetti,” I tried to speak confidently. “You’ll be surprised at how easy it is. Just… do everything I tell you… and maybe stay away from the stove unless I’m right next to you,” I teased, earning myself another one of his killer smirks. Good Lord, I was in trouble.

  I spent the next hour — between all the teasing and laughing —teaching Ethan everything he needed to know about making spaghetti. He chopped the herbs to add to the sauce, he sautéed garlic, I even taught him how to make homemade meatballs. Surprisingly enough, he was a pretty fast learner, picking up everything I was telling him with ease. It was the most fun I could remember having in years, and it was almost like Ethan and I had slid seamlessly back into the friendship we used to have… almost. Because that charged undercurrent t
hat kept crackling through the air every time we touched most certainly hadn’t been there back when we were kids. That was something altogether new, and I would have been lying if I said it didn’t add an element of excitement. It was thrilling, almost like we were doing something we shouldn’t and were at risk of getting caught. And as the evening pressed on, I found I struggled to keep my eyes off of him.

  The meatballs were ready, the sauce simmering on the stove when I told him, “Okay. You did it! All that’s left to do is strain the pasta, and we’ll be set.”

  I stood back and watched as he carried the pot over to the sink and dumped the contents into the colander I’d put down for him. The way his biceps bulged as he lifted the heavy pot made his t-shirt pull across his broad chest and back. His muscles rippled and flexed in a hypnotizing manner as he poured, and with his attention momentarily diverted, I was able to stare at his perfect ass in his faded jeans. I’d never considered a man to be beautiful before. I’d seen rugged, handsome, hot, but those words didn’t properly describe Ethan. He encompassed all of that and so much more. He truly was beautiful.

  He turned from the sink, and by the knowing grin on his handsome face, I knew I hadn’t diverted my gaze in enough time. He knew I’d just been checking him out. Ignoring the low, rumbling chuckle he released, I pulled some plates down for us. We piled our dishes high with food and I went and grabbed a bottle of red wine and two glasses from the bar to drink with our meal. We sat on stools pulled close to the counter and dug in.

  As soon as the first bite hit my mouth, I let out a moan, the slight tang of the tomatoes wasn’t overpowered by the garlic and basil in the slightest. It was fabulous. “Ethan, this is really good,” I said through a mouthful of food. “Definitely an A plus worthy meal.”

  I swallowed and lifted my wineglass to take a sip. He remained silent, and when I placed my glass back on the metal counter to meet his gaze, what I saw staring back at me made my chest tighten.