“You finished with Patrick’s order? He’s out there having a cow, the impatient fool.”
Marion snorts. “I’m finished. If he gives you any grief when you get back out there, you tell him I know where he lives.” She waves her spatula around threateningly, making me laugh.
“Yes, ma’am.” I go through the door, back into the hum of chatter. It’s been a long day, and lunch hour is no joke. There are only three more hours remaining in my shift, but today three hours seems extra long.
I serve and clean up tables non-stop until I feel like my feet will explode. No doubt they will be the size of balloons by the time I get home. Finally, the crowd dwindles, and I slow my pace. My phone vibrates in my apron pocket, and I fish it out. Glancing around to make sure Mr. Edmond is nowhere in sight, I check the caller ID. My lips purse as I contemplate taking the call or not.
Amanda. The name flashes across the screen. My finger hovers over the icon to accept the call, but I lose my nerve and shove the phone back into my pocket. I close my eyes briefly and let out a breath. Guilt assails me for ignoring her call. She’s my best friend. But things changed after high school, and it’s all my fault. I’m the one who distanced myself from her and just about everyone else. What else could do I do? All of my childhood friends have left Lakeville, Connecticut and moved on to live amazing lives. And here I am, an utter failure.
It’s my shame that pushes me to turn away from everyone. I have ignored countless calls from people who were once a part of my life. Admitting that I haven’t gone on to become the brilliant artist that everyone thought I would be was beyond humiliating. Hell, I didn’t even go to college. My phone vibrates again. I don’t bother to answer, knowing it’s Amanda calling again. I don’t avoid her calls all the time; occasionally I have to pick up, so that it doesn’t look so bad. Then, I lie and tell her how busy I’ve been, and that’s why I often miss her calls. Yeah, I’m a liar, and I’m going to hell. When I speak to Amanda, she always asks how my life is going. She doesn’t know the pain the question causes. Plus, there is the fact that the father of my child is none other than her older brother. She has no idea, of course, and neither does anyone else. Although someone might figure it out one of these fine days. Casey looks more like her father with each passing day.
I push the thought of my daughter’s father aside, until I get home, anyway, where I can pine over him in private. I wonder what Amanda was calling about. With a slight shrug, I get back to cleaning tables. She usually leaves a message so more than likely I’ll find out.
Chapter Two
Lindsay
At the end of my shift, I gather my things and make a beeline for the door. Customers begin to file in again, and I quicken my steps before the boss asks me to stay a bit longer. I would gladly do over time, since I need the money, but not today. I’m ready to drop because of exhaustion, and I haven’t seen much of my daughter in a week. Running from one job to the other is taking its toll.
Sitting in my ancient Toyota, I take out my phone, remembering that Amanda had called. There’s a voice message. “Let’s hear what it’s about.” As I listen to Amanda’s excited voice, a smile appears on my lips. She was always so full of energy. By the end of the message, my smile has fallen away. My heart begins to race. It’s not because Amanda has just said she’s getting married. That’s great; I’m happy for her. The problem is that she wants to have the wedding here. That means her brother will be here as well. “Oh, my God,” I whisper, as memories overtake me and I spiral back into the past. The last time I saw Ethan Taylor was almost four years ago.
I was eighteen, graduating high school. I found out from Amanda that Ethan would be flying in from Texas to attend our graduation. Excitement to see him after so many years mounted in my chest. It wasn’t because I grew up around him and he was a great guy, but because I had a massive crush on him. I had since the day I hit puberty and was old enough to know what goes on between boys and girls. Ethan was five years older, so I knew I didn’t have a chance. I didn’t mind admiring him from afar and in secret, though. Not even Amanda, who I told everything to, knew I was in love with her cool older brother.
Ethan was always nice to me. The day he left for college, I was heartbroken. I wouldn’t set eyes on him again until my graduation. By that time, he was an up and coming NFL player. I didn’t like football much, but I kept up with it because of Ethan. I didn’t see him during the ceremony, but knowing he was in the crowd watching made me sweat just a little.
After graduation, I finally saw him. He was talking with a few of his old high school friends. I was alone with my gushing parents. My mother fussed over me as usual, fixing my collar and smoothing my hair.
“Mom, stop fussing. Have you forgotten I’m eighteen now?”
My father chuckled, pride shining in his eyes. “Leave her be, Janice. She wants to go and chat with her friends.”
“And don’t forget that I’m going to Amanda’s party after, daddy,” I reminded him.
He sighed, not too happy about me attending some wild graduation party. “Right,” he murmured. “Just be careful, sweetheart, and don’t stay out too late.”
“Okay, daddy.” I kissed him on the cheek and skipped off, flying high on my excitement. I had just completed a major life milestone. Exhilaration coursed through me, giving me the courage I needed to approach Ethan.
He had his back turned as I came to a stop behind him. “Um, h-hi Ethan.” The words came out so low than I didn’t think he had heard me. But he turned and looked down from his six feet, four inches height. He seemed not to recognize me for a second, and then recognition flashed in his mesmerizing green eyes. I could tell he was shocked. Anyone would be if they had known the skinny kid with braces I was years ago. At eighteen I had grown into my own. I didn’t look too bad with my five foot seven slender frame and full breasts.
“Lindsay? Holy hell, I barely recognize you.” He looked me over from head to toe appreciatively, and then pulled me into an embrace. He pulled back and studied me. “Look at you, all grown up.”
I blushed. “I’m happy to see you, Ethan. How are you?”
“I’m alright. It’s great to see you, too. Congratulations on graduating. You’ll be at my sister’s party, right?” I nodded. “Great. We can catch up later then, huh?”
“Uh, y-yeah, of course.” I blushed again, annoyed that I had been reduced to a stuttering idiot. So much for the air of sophistication I tried to put forth.
All through Amanda’s party, I searched for Ethan. He was nowhere to be seen. Disappointed, I had detached myself from a group of girls and stepped into the backyard. Thankfully, everyone preferred to stay in the air-conditioned house, so I had a moment’s peace. Parties weren’t my thing, but I couldn’t miss my best friend’s party. She would never forgive me.
“Bored with the party already?”
I gasped and wheeled around, clutching my chest. “Oh, Ethan, you scared the hell out of me.”
He chuckled. “Sorry.” He was reclining on one of the patio chairs with a beer in his hand.
“I didn’t get bored. I just wanted a little quiet, you know?”
Ethan sighed and sat up. “Oh, yeah, Lindsay, I know the feeling. I haven’t had this much peace and quiet in a while. I prayed that none of Amanda’s giggling friends made their way to the backyard.”
My shoulders fell. I supposed I was in the category of giggling friend. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone was out here. I’ll go back in.” I turned to leave.
“Lindsay, wait. I didn’t mean you. You can stay. Have a seat, kid. We haven’t talked since you were what, fourteen?”
“Yup. But I’m not a kid anymore.” I took the chair beside him and crossed my legs. My dress hiked up to expose my thighs.
He cocked a brow. “I can see that,” he drawled. I nearly swooned when his lips curled upward. “Skinny little Lindsay Williams is now a woman. I bet you have boys fighting over you.”
My cheeks colored. “I wouldn’t say that.
I mean, I’m okay looking I guess, but the boys aren’t interested in girls who like art and reading. They prefer blonde cheerleaders with big boobs like you do.”
Ethan stared at me, and I was afraid I had offended him. Me and my big mouth. When he let out a roaring laugh, I smiled. “What gives you the idea that I like blondes with big breasts, Lindsay?”
“I watch TV and read magazines,” I said, with a shrug. “Mr. Big Shot Quarterback dating some dancer, model or the other. I know your type, Ethan.”
He smirked. “I see your mouth has grown just as well as the rest of you.”
I let out a giggle and quickly clamped a hand over my mouth. “I almost forgot, you don’t want any of your sister’s giggling friends disturbing your peace.”
He tilted his head and gave me a strange look. “I suppose your giggle is fine. It’s cute.”
There was a look in his eyes that I couldn’t identify at the time. The way he continued to stare at me was disconcerting. I squirmed in my seat. “What?”
He blinked. “Nothing, I just- you’re- nothing.”
“Come on, Ethan. You can tell me. It’s not like I’m some stranger.”
He sighed. “I find myself attracted to you, Lindsay, and it feels wrong.”
My heart leaped and I sat erect. “What’s so wrong about that?”
“I’m twenty-three years old, Lindsay.”
“And I’m eighteen.” My voice sounded breathless. I couldn’t believe Ethan had admitted that he was attracted to me.
“I watched you grow up with my sister, for Christ-”
I have no idea what gave me the courage to move, but I was suddenly perched on Ethan’s lap, kissing him. My lips moved over his with a confidence that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. I had only ever been kissed once before, and the thought crossed my mind that Ethan would find my lack of skill less than impressive. Self-consciousness replaced bravado, and I began to pull away.
Ethan’s arm wound around my waist, holding me to him. Apparently he was enjoying the kiss as much as I was. A small moan of pleasure escaped my lips and Ethan gently pushed me away, as if his senses had returned. He sprang up.
“Shit. That wasn’t supposed to happen.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “You should go inside, now,” he roared.
“Ethan-”
“Go, Lindsay!”
I stood up, lips trembling. “I-I’m sorry.” Utterly humiliated, I wheeled around. Instead of going inside the main house, I headed for the pool house. To my relief, the door was open. I sank onto the couch and sobbed. I had foolishly believed Ethan was into me, after he’d seen that I was an adult and admitted that he was attracted to me. I froze when the slight creak of the door announced someone’s arrival. I knew it was Ethan without looking up. Keeping my head down, I tried to hide my tears. I felt ridiculous for crying, and had no doubt he would think me an idiot as well. I heard the click of the lock being turned.
“Lindsay, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout at you. You didn’t deserve that.”
“Whatever, Ethan. Just go, please. I didn’t come here so you would follow me.”
“I know.” The couch dipped and I felt the warmth of his body. I made an attempt to move away from him, but he grasped my chin, forcing me to look at him. “You’re so young and innocent. I don’t want to corrupt you.”
Snorting, I wrenched my face away from his grip. “How do you know I haven’t been corrupted already?”
His brows rose. “Have you?” I was confused as to why he seemed so upset by the idea.
“No,” I sighed, hating that I had to admit to him that I was a virgin. That could only make me look even more childish in his eyes. “I want you to be my first,” I blurted out. “I know it won’t happen, but that doesn’t stop me from wishing for it.”
“Why would you want someone like me to be your first lover, Lindsay? I think you deserve much better,” he finished with a small laugh.
Perplexed, I glanced at him. “Someone like you? You’re perfect. I’ve had a crush on you for years.” Okay, maybe crush was an understatement, but he didn’t need to know that.
Ethan rubbed a hand over his face. “Wow, my visit home sure has taken an interesting turn,” he murmured. Turning to me, he said, “Lindsay, I’m a player, and I’m not talking about sports. I’m nothing but honest with myself and women. Your first time should be special.”
“It will be more than special if it’s with you,” I whispered. “It’s okay, though. I know I’m not what you usually go for. I get it.” I understood perfectly. I wasn’t his type, and I was young and inexperienced.
He let out a sigh. “No, you don’t get it, Lindsay.” That was all he said before I found myself plastered to his chest, staring up at his gorgeous face. His mouth captured mine in a searing kiss, melting me on the spot. My heart raced with excitement and a tinge of fear. This was it, one of my dreams come true. I gave myself completely to Ethan.
My heart pounds now just at the memory of what Ethan and I shared that afternoon years ago in his pool house. It was the second most beautiful experience of my life, the first being the birth of our daughter, the daughter Ethan doesn’t know exists. If he shows up to for Amanda’s wedding, what’s going to happen?
Chapter Three
Ethan
The sun filters through the thin curtains, lighting up the room. I throw a hand over my eyes and groan as the sunlight attempts to penetrate my eyelids. I can already feel a massive headache coming on. This is what I get for partying too hard and drinking too much. Again. I roll over and freeze, feeling a warm body beside me. Shit. She stayed the night. She, whose name I can’t remember, stretches and snuggles closer against my back. Squeezing my eyes shut tightly, I let out a breath, preparing myself for the awkwardness to come.
As I make an attempt to shift, my bedmate stirs again and I know she’s awake.
“Morning,” she purrs.
“Uh, morning.” She sits up, giving me space to maneuver. Swinging my legs over the mattress, I stand up and turn to look at her with a forced smile. She smiles up at me with sleepy brown eyes. Her blond hair hangs on her shoulders in a tousled curtain. She doesn’t make any effort to cover her nakedness. When her eyes lower and her smile widens, I remember that I, too, am naked. Clearing my throat, I grab my pants from the floor and pull them on.
“I have to get going,” I say. At the same time, I wrack my brain, trying to recall her name. I’m pretty sure it starts with an N, or maybe it’s an M. Oh, hell.
Her lips form a pretty pout, and she bats her eyelashes. “Already? You told me last night that you didn’t have any practice today.”
Me and my big mouth. “I have other business to attend to.” I really don’t. I’m just trying to get rid of her without hurting her feelings.
She huffs and gets up, flaunting her nude form. And what a nice form it is. That’s why she ended up in my bed last night. A group of women were lounging outside the stadium after practice yesterday evening, and this woman approached me. She charmed her way into my hotel room with her full red lips, ample breasts and long legs. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so easy, but damn, what fun I had last night. After we had dinner and a few rounds of drinks- okay, many rounds of drinks, we ended up in bed. That same scenario plays out much too often. Some women are just fascinated with bedding professional athletes, or perhaps it’s the money they’re more interested in. Frankly, I’m tired of it. I have been for some time now. But I keep up the charade of enjoying having a different woman in my bed every other night. After all, that is what is expected of me. I might as well give the tabloids something to write about.
“Maybe we can get together again tonight,” she suggests.
“Er, I can’t.”
“You sure, handsome?” She saunters to me and winds her arms around my neck.
Taking hold of her hands, I pry them from around me. How do I tell her that I was only ever interested in one night without sounding like a total asshole? I sigh. “Look, um…” Damn,
I just can’t remember her name.
She steps away, placing her hands on her hips. The look on her face indicates that she is no longer amused. “You don’t remember my name, do you?”
I rub the back of my neck. And here we go. “I’m sorry.”
Wheeling around, the irate woman searches the room for her clothes. I watch her dress with angry, jerky movements. I feel bad that she is upset, but at least she’s leaving. As soon as she is fully dressed, she grabs her purse and heads to the door. “I thought we hit it off, you know,” she says, sending a glare my way.
My brows crease. Hit it off? Only a certain type of woman usually hangs around the football stadium, waiting to dig their manicured nails into players. What was she expecting from me after one night of sex, a marriage proposal? “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I don’t do relationships.”
She shrugs. “Your loss. And the name is Melissa.”
Right, that’s it, Melissa. Before I can respond, Melissa slams the door shut, leaving me staring at it, stunned. “Well, she took everything fairly well.” I let out a breath, feeling like I need a drink. The pain in my head reminds me that I had enough last night. I just never learn. My feet move toward the mini fridge in the lavish hotel room, but the ringing of my phone stops me. Going toward the nightstand instead, I swoop up my phone, already knowing who it is.
“Hi, Amanda.” My mood instantly lightens.
“Big brother! I wasn’t expecting you to answer. It’s early. I was expecting you to still be passed out from your wild night.”
I grin. “Well, I guess it wasn’t so wild after all, huh? What’s up?”
“I’m just giving you a gentle reminder that you need to get your ass to Connecticut in three weeks.”
Rolling my eyes, I grunt. “Do you seriously think I would forget about your wedding, baby sis?” I don’t see why I have to fly to Connecticut an entire week before the wedding. Returning home isn’t something I’m looking forward to. After I escaped the small town where nothing ever happens, I rarely returned to visit. “Hey, why can’t I just show up the night before or on the morning of the wedding?”
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