by Kaitlyn Rice
Callie wondered what story Isabel had told Ethan today. Perhaps that her baby was at the church day care or out with his “Aunt” Callie.
If Callie had been Luke’s aunt, she wouldn’t have seen him much. She lived too far away. She’d dote on her nephew.
Ethan would buy that story.
At the thought of seeing him again, a bubble of excitement lodged in Callie’s throat.
She couldn’t resist.
Callie gathered Luke and his things, and headed inside. She found Isabel and Ethan in the basement, transferring a large sheet of wallboard from one future room to another.
“Look who I brought to visit you,” Callie said, hoping to prompt Isabel to reveal the status of their story before she said anything more.
“Hi, Lukey,” Isabel said, sending a wide smile to Luke and a tiny wink to Callie. “Have you had a good morning with your auntie?”
Luke bounced in Callie’s arms and said, “Gaga,” which could be interpreted to mean just about anything. Callie was thankful that her sister was sharp enough to catch on quickly, and that her son was too young to catch on at all.
After Isabel and Ethan had leaned the wallboard against the far wall, Isabel asked Ethan to excuse her. Then she came across to take Luke from Callie. Murmuring as she carried the baby up the stairs, Isabel sounded motherly.
Callie often teased Isabel about getting attached to every child she met, but at this moment she felt lucky that Isabel was a born nurturer.
Alone with Ethan again, Callie watched him rotate his shoulders, stretching them.
“I know you’re going to say you don’t want me here,” he said in a quiet voice. “But save yourself the trouble. I’ve been here all morning and no catastrophe has happened. Think of it this way—an extra pair of hands will speed the process.”
He had a point.
He bent his head from side to side, working out a kink. When they were together, she’d have thought nothing of offering him a massage. He’d taught her how to find the tension and rub it with just the right amount of pressure. He’d often done the same for her.
What could one little massage hurt?
She stepped nearer. “Turn around,” she said quietly.
After he had, she reached up and started rubbing his neck and shoulders.
His skin was hot, his muscles firm.
Maybe others could touch this way and keep it casual. Apparently, she couldn’t. This connection of fingers to flesh felt dangerous.
Yet she couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop.
“Thanks,” Ethan said, his husky voice shooting erotic impulses through Callie’s limbs. As she kneaded through a knot, he groaned and relaxed his head forward.
Callie caught her breath, resisting an urge to press her body against the long, lean planes of his back.
When things were still good, she’d loved exploring those broad muscles. She loved his smell. His strength.
She didn’t know if she nudged him around or if he’d simply turned, but then they were kissing again. He tasted like coffee today—whenever he worked more hours than he should, coffee kept him going. He also tasted dangerously hot, like languid, second-time sex in a back-of-the-bar parking lot. Or like laughter-filled bedroom sex two hours before families were scheduled to arrive for Thanksgiving dinner.
Callie let her lips linger against Ethan’s, savoring memories of their time together before her mother’s death. Before her infertility woes.
Before Luke.
She backed up, her heart racing. She’d done it again! In remembering all the whys, she’d ignored a few important why nots. She hadn’t meant to kiss him. It was an old habit.
She opened her eyes and watched Ethan’s expression grow cool. Callie should be thankful. She needed to remember the problems in their past, as well as the pleasures.
But she wasn’t happy to see his desire for her lessen. She’d been Ethan’s first love and he’d been hers. They might have each broken a few promises, but he’d broken the biggest one.
He’d given up.
In this instant, with her mouth warm with his coffee taste and her limbs infused with his heat, she wanted Ethan to feel regret. Before he composed himself or ruined the moment by discussing it, Callie turned around and headed up the stairs.
Let him compare her kiss to any LeeAnn might give him.
Let him feel the tiniest hint of doubt that what he was doing was right.
Let him wonder if his leaving her at all had been right.
Chapter Six
Ethan punched the keypad next to his garage door, then ducked through the opening. It was his first Saturday off this month, and he had a ton to do. His morning run finished, he wanted a shower. Then he was headed to Augusta again.
Contractors had finished installing the major systems in Isabel’s basement—she had a new furnace and water heater—and now those basement walls could be replaced. If drywall dust and sweaty skin weren’t such an appalling combination, he’d skip the shower and get going.
He rushed through it, though, and dressed quickly, too. When he went into his living room and sat in his favorite chair to put on his socks and shoes, he noticed his blinking answering machine light.
He crossed the room to the side table, touched the play button and swore. LeeAnn had called while he was showering. Her message, while phrased to sound charming, was sullied by the strained tones in her voice.
She was obviously growing tired of his neglect. She had waited an hour at the Beacon this morning, she reported, and she’d finally left to meet River’s Bend for a practice session. She’d be busy all week at Wichita’s annual River Festival, but she wanted to know if he was all right.
Aw, hell. He’d missed their standing Saturday breakfast date. He’d worked the last two Saturdays, but today he had no excuse. He’d simply forgotten.
Obviously, she hadn’t.
He grabbed the phone, thinking he’d try her cell number, then thought better of it. LeeAnn would try to talk him into dropping by to watch her practice, then spending the day with her at the festival.
He dropped the handset in its holder. He’d contact Lee-Ann later, when he was home and after he’d showered again. He’d make up for his negligent behavior after her concert tonight.
Today, he wanted to help Isabel.
A half hour later, he drove up to the old Blume place. Both Isabel’s car and Josie’s truck were parked at the roadside, along with several other vehicles. However, the rental car Callie drove was nowhere in sight.
Ethan was disappointed. He’d missed her on Wednesday. Isabel had said she was babysitting Luke again.
Go figure. Ethan would have expected take-charge Callie to do more of the physical work. He’d have expected child-loving Isabel to be so involved with her baby that she’d let her sisters repair the house.
That particular role reversal wasn’t a complete shocker, though. Callie also loved babies, and she was a strong woman. She hadn’t let her childless state keep her from being a doting aunt. He was proud of her for that.
He’d been thinking about her more than usual lately—especially after that basement kiss. Had she noticed his arousal? After another minute or two of kissing, they might have initiated the recently dried floor of Isabel’s basement. He’d have risked a return to the hellish end of their marriage for just one more time in the haven of Callie’s body.
Would he ever make love to her again?
Of course not. He shouldn’t even think that way. A hot early sex life hadn’t protected them against the intense fighting that had torn them apart later.
It wouldn’t resolve anything now.
If Ethan helped Isabel, he’d be speeding her recovery from the flood, and ergo his divorce from Callie—which was exactly what he needed to do.
Then, he’d pursue a robust sex life again, with LeeAnn or whomever else came along. Then, this drawn-out obsession with Callie would end.
He hoped.
When Josie emerged from Isabel’s fr
ont door a moment later, she looked surprised to see him. She stopped on the porch step, and looked as if she might turn around and go back in. Finally, she squared her shoulders and stepped down, meeting him halfway across the lawn.
“Hi, Ethan,” she said, smiling. “It’s gorgeous out here today, isn’t it?”
Ethan perused the dazzling blue sky and the leafy shrubs and trees in Isabel’s yard. The pile of flood debris had finally been carried off by county crews, and the grass was freshly mown. “It is,” he said. “If those inspector’s placards weren’t taped to all the doors, you might forget that this area was underwater a little over a month ago.”
“Probably. Hey, give me a hand,” Josie said as she crossed the yard toward her truck.
“That’s why I’m here,” he said as he fell into step beside her. “To help.”
Josie continued across the lawn. “We’ve had a lot of help,” she said. “Izzy will be living at home in another month. Maybe sooner.”
That was true. Isabel’s list of flood-related needs was dwindling. “I heard she was ready to install wallboard in the basement,” Ethan said as he watched Josie pull a tub of laundry supplies from her truck bed.
Josie balanced the container against her hip, then pointed to a small box of cleaners. “Grab that, would you?”
He did, then he followed her toward the house.
“Some of my buddies are working on those walls,” Josie said on the way. “I got kicked upstairs to help Isabel with laundry.” She stopped below the steps and turned around. “They won’t have room for you, either.”
How disappointing. “How many guys are down there?” Ethan asked.
“Eight. They’re pretty cranky, too. Everyone’s hot and sweaty. I’ll be surprised if they don’t get into a brawl before they’re finished.”
Considering the size of Isabel’s basement, eight would be two or three too many. Ethan shifted the box to his other side and considered his options.
He should go home and get hold of LeeAnn.
“At any rate, Callie’s not here,” Josie said. “She took Luke to the City Park today.”
Ethan might have argued that he was here to support the entire family, and not just to see Callie, but Isabel opened the door just then. “Josie, what’s taking you so long?” she asked.
Then she spied Ethan. “Oh, Ethan. Um. You can’t…uh…” She colored.
“We were just chatting,” Josie said. “He showed up to work in the basement, but I already told him we couldn’t fit one more guy down there. He’s leaving.”
“Oh!” Isabel’s cheeks turned pinker. “Well, that’s true, and I’m so sorry.” She stepped outside and took the box from him. “I hope you know how much I appreciate your help.”
“No problem. I should have called Josie’s apartment before I drove all the way here. I have things to do at home, anyway.”
“Then you’re heading back to Wichita?” Josie asked.
“Yes. He is,” Isabel said with uncharacteristic certainty. “See you later, Ethan. My phone service will be restored sometime this week. Call first, next time.”
“Good idea. Well, bye, ladies.” Ethan headed for his car.
“Because if you weren’t going straight home,” Josie hollered after him, “you could drop by the park to wish Luke a happy birthday.”
The baby’s birthday was today?
Ethan swiveled around to watch Callie’s sisters, who stood on the porch glaring at each other. Neither acted as if they realized he was studying them.
Isabel murmured something about Callie being upset.
Josie responded by saying something about an insane plan.
“His first birthday?” Ethan asked, to regain their attention.
“Yes. His very first.” Josie beamed as if she’d just won this silent sister-battle.
Isabel rolled her eyes, then said, “That’s right. You know how it is—a doting aunt and a busy mom. Callie knew I’d want to work here today, but we’re celebrating as a family later this evening. I wouldn’t neglect my own son. You know that.”
Not one of the Blume sisters could be considered a chatterbox, but when Isabel was nervous, she tended to prattle. She must feel guilty about working on her baby’s birthday—a forgivable sin. Ethan smiled at her. “Enjoy his party tonight, and take lots of pictures.”
A while later, Ethan carried a large, brightly wrapped present toward the playground equipment at City Park, near Augusta’s northern tip. Kids and mothers were everywhere, but he’d spotted Callie easily.
Her long, sunlit blond hair made a stark contrast to Luke’s dark, newly cropped cut as they sat together at the top of the slide. As Callie scooted forward, her laughter blended with the little boy’s.
She saw Ethan when she was halfway down. Obviously startled, she came to a stop at the bottom and sat for a moment, her gaze moving between Ethan and the gift.
“Wady, it’s my tuwn,” the little girl at the top complained. “You hafta get off.”
“Oh! Sorry.” Callie hopped up with the baby and approached Ethan. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“Nothing.” He shrugged. “I came to offer Isabel some help with the basement, but she didn’t have room for me. Josie mentioned that it was Luke’s birthday.” He shifted the oversize package and grinned at the little boy.
“You didn’t go in?” Callie asked.
He shook his head. “No. I spoke to your sisters outside.”
“Oh. Okay.” She nodded toward the package. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know, but think about it,” he said. “If we were a couple, I’d be his uncle, right? Technically, I am still his uncle for the time being.”
Callie peered at Luke. “Guess that’d be right.”
Ethan watched the little boy’s face. “Hi, Luke,” he said in a gentle tone. “I’m Ethan. I came to wish you a happy first birthday.”
The little boy pointed at the box and said, “Dat!”
Ethan chuckled.
“I think he knows the humongous package is for him,” Callie said.
“Smart kid.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Shall we sit somewhere?” Ethan asked. “I can’t stay long, but I want to watch Luke open his present.”
Callie glanced around. “How about over there?” She carried Luke away from the equipment and sat in the grass with the boy in her lap. Ethan put the package in front of them, then sat on the opposite side.
Luke patted his chubby hands against the gift, obviously content to bang on the box. He pointed to a picture of a tricycle-riding bear on the paper. “Dee?”
“It’s a birthday present, Lukey,” Callie said. “You have to open it.”
“He doesn’t know about opening gifts?” Ethan asked. “Was he too young at Christmastime, then?”
“Yes, he was.”
“Then this is very exciting, isn’t it?” Ethan asked. He was glad he’d driven past one of the town’s few discount stores. When he’d seen the shiny tricycles, bicycles and play equipment lined up along the front walkway, he’d realized that Luke must have lost a few toys in the flood.
He hadn’t been able to resist going inside to find an appropriate gift for a one-year-old. He’d figured he’d drop it by, then get on his way.
Callie’s sober expression suggested that she had a world of troubles on her mind. After a minute, she bent down to Luke and showed him how to tear the paper. “See? Just rip this paper right off the box,” she instructed.
The little boy caught on quickly, and soon had the package unwrapped. As Ethan gathered paper scraps and wadded them into a ball, he heard a deep intake of breath, followed by a shudder.
It was Luke. The little boy’s eyes had filled, and he was beginning to whimper.
“Uh-oh,” Callie said. Pulling the baby around into her embrace, she patted his bottom and smiled at Ethan. “Guess he thinks the fun’s all finished.”
“No, Luke. This is your present,” Ethan said, thumping his palm again
st the box. “The toy inside is for you. It’s a basketball and goal.”
Luke pushed away from Callie and turned in her arms to stare at Ethan with soft brown eyes.
Ethan took his keys from his jeans pocket and slit the tape at the package end, hoping to heaven the basketball goal didn’t require construction.
He got lucky. The plastic toy was intact, inside the box. Ethan lifted it out, then spent a little while showing Luke how to toss the ball through the hoop. “I thought you might approve of this toy,” he told Luke. “The first time I saw you, you were playing with a ball.”
“Ba,” the baby said.
Ethan and Callie laughed, then Ethan began to retrieve the ball while Luke stood braced in Callie’s arms, tossing it. After a while, Luke handed the ball to Callie and focused on Ethan. He pointed to the nearby swings. “Dat.”
“You want to swing, Luke?” Callie asked.
Then Callie glanced at Ethan, still sitting across from her. “I know you have to go,” she said. “If you don’t mind, could you repack the toy and set the box in my passenger seat on your way past? I left the car unlocked.”
“You shouldn’t do that,” Ethan said. He started to remind Callie that bad things happened even in small towns, but Luke interrupted.
“No, no, no,” the baby said, shaking his head. He shoved away from Callie, looked directly at Ethan and pointed to the swings. “Dat.”
“Somebody’s getting cranky,” Callie said, chuckling as she lifted Luke into her arms.
Luke stared at Ethan, pointed to the swings and said, “Dat-dat-dat.”
Ethan chuckled and stood up, too. “No. Somebody just wants me to take him to the swings.”
“You don’t have to,” she said. “He’ll be all right as soon as you’re out of sight. I promise.”
Ethan reached for the baby. “Want me to take you?”
The little guy catapulted away from Callie.
Ethan pulled Luke into his arms. “This is no problem, Cal. Really. I can spare an hour.”
Callie stuffed the toy and wrapping paper into the box. “I’ll go put these in my car.”
