“That little rat is not my dog.” As he spoke, he tentatively patted Shaggy on the head. After a couple of seconds, he withdrew and stared at his fingertips. Presumably finding them intact, he knelt and scratched Shaggy behind the ears.
The dog leaned into him. Sawyer took a step back.
“Maybe if you learned Kelsie’s dog’s name,” Ethan said, hiding a smile, “he wouldn’t gnaw on your ankles.”
“Don’t change the subject. What do you mean, Rue is leaving?”
Ethan shrugged. “She’s up for an internship that starts in a couple of weeks. They’d be crazy not to accept her.”
“And just like that, she’ll be gone?”
Ethan nodded. “Just like that. Hell, you heard her. She doesn’t need an internship to go off grid. She does it because she loves it.”
“Well, fuck.”
Ethan agreed. And that was dangerous. Even if he thought he could fall in love again, it would never be with someone who took Rue’s kind of risks. There were too many good-byes in that. Too much worrying if one might be tragically final. “It’s not like I’ll never see her again, but…just don’t let Mom get any ideas about things getting serious.”
Sawyer picked up his coffee. “If it’s not serious—and by the way, knowing you, it almost has to be—then how do you know you’re going to see her again?”
Ethan glanced down at Shaggy and shook his head. “Because I have her goddamned dog.”
…
The day after Rue had dinner at Ethan’s, most of her happy haze was obliterated. She clutched her phone so hard, she thought she’d break it. The grip was to keep her from throwing it, but she had a feeling throwing it would be a lot more satisfying than having it crack in her hand. “This is not up for discussion,” she told her mother. “I’m not going with Boyd. I don’t care how rich he is or where his connections lead. It’s his grandmother’s charity. He doesn’t need me to network.”
“But honey, your father and I do. One of your father’s business associates—”
“I don’t want to hear it. The associate in question can’t be much of a businessman if he bases his decisions on who I attend the gala with.” And could the stupid thing just be over with already? It was a perfectly gorgeous Saturday afternoon, and she was stuck listening to this same crap, only now instead of dreading it, she was just mad.
“Sweetheart, this is important to your father.”
“Boyd is an arrogant asshole who tried to railroad me into going to that stupid gala.”
“Stupid?” Horror raised her mother’s tone an octave. “They’ll receive millions in donations.”
“And the board will pat themselves on the back and pass around nice big bonuses that won’t ever get around to actually helping the animals.” Rue practically spat the words, knowing she was being unfair. In reality, according to an independent watchdog, over eighty-five percent of the Von Adler funds went directly to the cause, but that wouldn’t exactly translate into a reason not to listen to her mother. “Boyd has absolutely no respect for me. He doesn’t hear me. Is that what you want? For me to be miserable so dad can bank another million?” These people, her own family, were unbelievable. No wonder she wanted to get away from them. Far away.
“I think you’re over-reacting.”
Rue looked to the sky. It was hard to believe the blanket of blue that held the smog over the city was the same one the Rocky Mountains touched. That was a quick flight. She could breathe there, then come back in time for the gala. Only there was no Ethan anywhere else, and for once, the pull to be in New York was greater than the push to get away from her mother.
“I think,” Rue said evenly, “that your precious business deal has a much better shot of going through if I don’t punch the golden boy in his face in front of your posse of benefactors. Have you even asked Dad if his future depends on whether I go out with a man whose refusal to take no for an answer borders on harassment? I’m betting he’ll say no. Besides, I. Have. A. Date.”
“Oh, honey. Ethan Chase doesn’t date.” There it was, loud and clear. The pity Ethan loathed. And this time she loathed it, too.
“He does now. I’m hanging up. Have a great day.” Rue ended the call over her mother’s protests. Stupid charity. Not that she had anything against the cause, but she hated the politics that happened behind the scenes. She’d bet half the money they raised was a direct result of the high-brows trying to out jostle one other for the title of most generous. The causes were helped in the end, but the process felt more like middle school than a bunch of grownups with a genuine interest in doing the right thing.
Except Ethan’s family. And probably quite a few others. And dammit, she wanted to be one of the ones making a real difference.
She thought of Ethan holding a puppy, and her suggestion that he do a beefcake calendar came back to her with force. She pulled up his name on her phone and swooned. She’d already attached the photo of him and Shaggy to his contact page, and she spent more time looking at it than she should. No reason to deprive the world of such a sight.
I’m going to pitch Mimi Von Adler about doing a calendar for the Von Adler charity, she texted. Want to be my Mr. July?
Shortly after she hit send, his response arrived.
No.
Undeterred, she tried again.
Which month do you want?
No month. Not happening.
Dammit. She so wanted him in a calendar, but if she couldn’t have him, she’d make do with Plan B. Ethan might not know what hit him, but that would probably be the best part about Plan B.
How’s Shaggy?
Lying on her back in a patch of sun.
Huh.
You’re not at work?
Granted, it was Saturday afternoon, but the Chase family would work seven days a week if they were needed.
No, he replied. I’m at the park, terrifying small children with the sight of this dog.
Rue laughed out loud.
Want to join us? I’ll buy you an iced coffee.
She hesitated long enough for another message to come through.
Two iced coffees?
It was just cruel that this man wasn’t available. Because if someone had asked her to sketch the perfect guy, he’d have an awful lot in common with Ethan Chase.
That’s an offer I can’t refuse, she replied. Darn coffee addiction.
He responded with the name of the park within easy walking distance. Closer to her place than his. She wondered why that was, then remembered he and his wife had lived on her street. It was probably somewhere they’d gone together. The thought made her wistful. She was glad she’d met Ethan. Between the anniversary of his wife’s death and Mrs. Angelo’s assault with the water hose, the circumstances had been a bit lacking, but she and he had connected. That felt good, even if he had her wanting all the wrong things. And he had her wanting them with him, which made them doubly out of reach.
Wrong. She might want him in the carnal sense—because she was a woman and she was, well, conscious—but she didn’t want the forever part. Mind-blowing sex was another story, but that was a chapter in a book she’d have to write somewhere else. Maybe some foreign country where the natives didn’t have green eyes and the tourists were few and far between.
She wasn’t at the park two minutes before she spotted Ethan. He held two iced coffees while Shaggy lolled in the grass at his feet.
“What are you doing to me?” she asked in mock frustration as she approached. “I can’t drink two of those.”
His expression called B.S. “Yes, you can.”
She balked. “Not at the same time.”
He laughed and handed her one. “This dog loves the grass.”
Rue knelt to say hello. Shaggy barely glanced at her before closing her eyes to continue her basking. “Clearly,” she said as she sat on the warm grass. “I don’t think she got much at the shelter. It’s not exactly situated in the middle of a grassy meadow.” More of a dirty city block, but that was beside the point. “I’
m surprised you asked me here.”
“Why?” Confusion shadowed his face. Rather than stare down at her, he eased onto the ground by her side. His eyes, she noted, were even brighter than the tender new growth on the lawn, and she to fight the urge to crawl on top of him, to feel those long limbs tangled with her own.
Why, indeed. Did he really not get it? “Something about torture,” she said.
His brow lifted. “I thought we established not all torture is bad.”
She took a long drink before she answered. “Trust me when I say it’s still torture.”
He gave her an odd look. Maybe the attraction she felt really was one-sided. He couldn’t be that oblivious. Maybe, their arrangement notwithstanding, he really was just a nice guy without an agenda.
Of course he was. Under her breath, she muttered, “But they don’t call it sweet torture for nothing.”
Ethan shook his head. “There are some days—and believe me when I say before I met you they were few and far between—that I wish I could be more like Sawyer.”
“How’s that?”
“He’s not afraid to go after what he wants.”
Hel-lo. And just like that, the air between them was once again thick and muddled. “And what is it you want that you’re afraid to go after?”
“I want to feel free,” he admitted. “Like I do with you. It’s like it’s okay with us because we’re temporary. It’s like going to a costume party where you can be whoever you want to be for a little while, then when it’s over you slip back into your routine, no one the wiser. That’s us. The rest of the time, with everyone but you, everything I do is painted in a different light because it’s me doing it. And I feel as if it’ll always be that way. I feel like I can’t move on from Amy because then I’m the jerk who left his wife in the ground. But when I don’t move on, I’m the idiot who won’t let go. It’s like when she died, the middle ground died with her. It took away my normal for good.”
For a long time, Rue didn’t say anything. Shaggy rolled and wiggled on the grass, drawing her fair share of attention, but for the most part the world seemed oblivious to their mismatched union. A woman who couldn’t wait to leave the only place she’d ever called home and a man who needed someone stable in his life but would run a mile before he’d ever let that happen. Briefly, she wondered what he’d think of the world she loved—the one not drenched in concrete—and whether he could find his freedom in a place like that. And while she might not be able to change the way the world saw him, there was a chance she could change how he saw the world. “So you lost your groove,” she said. “Anyone would have under those circumstances. Stop worrying about what it isn’t, and let’s get it back. Let’s find your new normal.”
He blinked. “How do you propose we do that?”
“Let’s do something crazy.” Excitement bubbled inside her. Already, the idea of untethering from the city made her insides leap with joy, but it was the prospect of sharing the adventure with Ethan that really had her pulse skating around corners.
Him, probably not so much. Dubious was a gross understatement for whatever expression he had going on. “You want to find normal by doing something crazy?”
“You want to feel free,” she said, like it was the most natural connection in the world. “So blow the restraints.”
“Got any ideas?” His tone was a tad suspicious. Clearly he’d been paying attention, and that made her smile.
As for ideas, hell yeah, she had them. “Pose for a calendar?”
“No.” His answer was somber, resolute, and without hesitation.
That didn’t bode well.
“Sky diving!” An inspired idea, if she did say so herself.
He shot her another deadpan look. “Also a no.”
A breeze lifted her hair, the air too hot to offer much relief. “You suck at blowing restraints,” she told him.
He didn’t relent, but he did have a rather adorable hell no expression. “Come up with something that doesn’t leave me plummeting to my death,” he said, “and we’ll talk.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I can see why the calendar is out.”
“Funny.” He leaned back against the grass and his shirt settled into the grooves of his abdomen. He had to be doing that on purpose. Two seconds after refusing to pose, he did so with perfection.
She wiped some imaginary drool from her chin and tried a new approach. “Are you afraid of heights?”
He cast her a dubious, knowing look. “No, but that doesn’t mean I’m jumping out of an airplane.”
With a touch of misplaced jealously, she watched Shaggy roll against his leg and scooch along its length. He counter attacked, rubbing her belly. Lucky dog. “Are you free tomorrow?”
He looked up and grinned—for the dog, she was certain. “I think I can get out of my plans.”
She stood and wiped her shorts, then collected her things. “Good. Find a babysitter for the dog. I’ll pick you up at one.”
Chapter Nine
The minute Rue pulled up in front of Ethan’s apartment building the next afternoon, he knew he was in the worst kind of trouble. The woman was gorgeous with her weird not-Barbie hair and sky blue nails decorated with a chevron pattern. She was also double parked. She climbed out of the car and tossed him the keys without the slightest indication she’d looked for a storm grate or anything else they might fall into if he missed, and without batting an eyelash, she climbed into the passenger side. “You coming?”
“I’m driving?” He stared, bewildered. “Because I’m pretty sure you said no one drove your car.”
“If you can follow directions,” she said, “then yes. You’re driving my car.”
He wasn’t sure he wanted to. “Where are we going?” Simple question, but way more behind it than he wanted to admit. He was still stuck on her trusting him with the vehicle no one was allowed to touch. Except her, who kicked it.
“Jersey.”
“For?” In retrospect, he probably shouldn’t have been so surprised that she wanted to cross the state line, at least with the answer coming from a woman who’d trekked pretty darn close to the Antarctic Circle.
“Just drive.” She dropped her sunglasses to her nose as if he hadn’t any other choice and the matter was settled.
And it was. He didn’t have much choice. They were double parked, and he had an aversion to traffic violations.
“Take the Holland Tunnel,” she said after he’d maneuvered back into traffic. Not the most difficult of tasks considering he was blocking some of it, but he still felt a palpable sense of relief once they were on the road. Or he did until Rue spoke again.
“Tell me about Amy.” Her soft, sweet voice was like a balm.
The topic, not so much.
He braced himself for the usual shadow of grief to wash over him, but it didn’t. And that left him speechless. The sun still shone. The sky was still blue. The half-crazy woman with the choppy hair still sat next to him, her sunglasses doing little to shade the heat of her appraisal.
“You don’t have to talk about her if you don’t want to,” Rue said.
“No, that’s not it,” he said, finding his voice. “You just caught me off guard. Most people kind of avoid the topic.”
“But you specifically told me not to. Why don’t you have any pictures of her up in your apartment?”
To his surprise, the questions were kind of refreshing. Much more so than the filth of the road and the stench of exhaust that permeated the Mustang.
“I did,” he admitted. “I took everything down to paint and haven’t put them back on the wall.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.” In all honestly, he hadn’t given it a second thought. He enjoyed the bright walls. Liked not looking into the tunnel of his past at every turn, but it hadn’t been a conscious decision to leave them down. And he didn’t need pictures to see her. She was still there. Still a part of him.
“So she loved animals?”
“Yes,
but she was allergic, so we never had any pets. I guess she’d have loved Shaggy.” He snorted as the bitter irony of that washed over him. “She never did any hands-on volunteering, but she did what she could. She probably latched onto the rainforest thing because volunteering didn’t actually require contact with dander, which made sense since she was so allergic. It was nothing like we did at the shelter.”
“What did she look like?”
Traffic thinned enough to actually move forward at a steady pace. He settled back in the seat and stared straight ahead. “Long blond hair. Blue eyes. Not bright like yours, though. Pale.”
“I bet she was really pretty.” There didn’t seem to be an undercurrent to the words. No tell me I’m pretty, too.
“Beautiful. Cancer never took that from her.” The familiar ache that invaded wasn’t its usual self. This time some of it belonged to the woman next to him, and he wished things could be different between them. He couldn’t hold on when that meant letting go, and regardless of where things went, they could only end one way. He might be wavering on his insistence that he was happy alone, but he sure as hell hadn’t budged on the prospect of good-bye.
There’d been enough of those.
Rue didn’t say anything else, and he wondered if she’d intentionally left him alone with his thoughts, or what she’d think if she knew the direction his thoughts had taken. That, of course, brought him back to Amy, who, oddly enough, was the reason Rue was now in his life.
“I’ve never talked about her,” he said. “Can you believe that? People ask how I’m doing, and the only thing I can ever say is I’m fine.”
“You don’t have to be fine, Ethan.”
“I wasn’t,” he said. “But I have been for a long time. The thing is, she’s gone, but she’s still my wife. How do I ever forget that?”
“You don’t ever forget it.”
The words came as a comfort. It wasn’t that he needed Rue’s vote to know his own mind, but it felt good to have someone on his side. It felt good to not feel alone.
“How far are we going?” he asked after a moment. He was asking about the drive, but realized after he’d spoken that he could have been talking about so much more. But if Rue picked up on that, she didn’t indicate it. Instead, she consulted her phone and gave him an exit number.
The Three-Week Arrangement (Chase Brothers) Page 10
