Stephanie Rand grabbed her and executed some complicated spin to get Lainey away from her latest admirer. Lainey wiggled her hips, curls bouncing around her face as she laughed.
Ethan’s gut clenched. She was gorgeous.
He rarely made an appearance at the limited but popular Brevia bar scene. When he’d heard from Steph that Lainey was going to be here, he’d decided to come.
Bad choice.
“I told you she was hot now.”
Ethan pushed away from the table and resisted the urge to shove his fist into something as he turned to Tim Reynolds.
She was hot before, you fool, he said to himself. “You did,” he answered, silently counting to ten and remembering his promise to his best friend to look out for his little brother.
Tim put down one beer and picked up another. “I asked her out.”
Ethan’s beer dropped to the table with a clank. “You did what?” On the dance floor, Lainey twirled and laughed.
Tim took a quick step back. “I didn’t figure you’d care. She and I have a lot in common, and the two of you are ancient history, right?”
Ethan leveled a look at his supposed friend then ground out, “Right.”
“She’s been giving me some big-time signals since she got back.”
Over the roar in his ears, Ethan heard the music change to a slow ballad. He didn’t care, he told himself. Lainey meant nothing to him. He wanted to erase the debt he felt he owed her. Nothing more. If Tim could help with that, so be it.
Tim rubbed his palms together. “Here’s my chance.”
Ethan would have stopped him, but a hand clamped down on his shoulder. Paul Thie, the young vet he’d hired earlier this summer, stepped closer.
“Hey, boss,” Paul said with his usual mile-wide grin. “This is awesome, huh? Reminds me of a few places in Amarillo.”
Paul was a native Texan who’d interned with Ethan the past two summers before being hired two weeks ago. As he talked to the young man, Ethan watched the crowded dance floor. Couples clung to each other, women resting cheeks on the shoulders of their partners. He craned his neck to catch a glimpse of Lainey and Tim. When he finally did, his blood pressure skyrocketed.
Tim held her way too close. The other man’s arms snaked around her middle while her fingers rested on the corners of his shoulders. Tim turned her with the music and leaned forward to whisper something in her ear. Her already huge eyes widened a fraction. She shook her head, and they disappeared again as the crowd shifted.
“I’ll talk to you later, Paul,” Ethan said, not waiting for a response as he strode toward the dance floor.
He elbowed his way through couples until he spotted Lainey’s caramel curls. Although the song hadn’t ended, she pushed away from Tim, who held tight to her wrist. Ethan practically threw another man into a wall trying to get to them.
“Mind if I cut in?” He tried to keep his voice even. Cowboys on a Saturday night was no place to make a scene. “For old times’ sake.”
He saw Lainey swallow. “Sure,” she answered.
“No way,” Tim said at the same time. “Our dance isn’t over.”
Ethan’s mouth thinned. “It’s over. Now.”
Tim let go of Lainey’s arm but didn’t step away.
“Remember what I said, buddy.” Ethan didn’t try to hide his anger. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
Tim’s eyes narrowed, but he turned away, knocking into several people as he stomped off.
Ethan felt curious eyes on them. Without a word, he put his arms around Lainey. To his surprise, she wrapped her hands around his neck without protest. The warmth of her body melded against his. Her hair tickled his chin as her head tilted closer to his neck. She didn’t look at him, which was lucky since his blood was now pumping for a different reason.
“What was going on with you two?” he asked.
She sighed, placing her cheek against his shoulder. His heart caught in his chest at the intimacy of the gesture.
“We were talking about high school and then...I don’t know. I think he may be drunk.” Her finger traced the side of his jaw. “I remember that scar,” she whispered, her mouth so close to his face he could feel her breath when she spoke. “I remember everything about you.”
He leaned back and looked into her eyes.
She blinked several times and gave him a lopsided smile.
“Are you drunk?”
She scrunched up her nose as her smile widened. “I don’t get out much,” she said with a giggle.
“Holy crap,” he muttered. “You’re drunk.”
Her mouth pulled down at the corners. “Don’t be a buzzkill, Ethan. It’s been a rough week. My mama’s sick. I agreed to be my sister’s birth coach. And I’m missing assignment after assignment because I’m stuck in a town where the only people who don’t hate me are just waiting until I mess up so they’ll have an excuse to start hating me.”
“Your Sunday’s going to be even rougher once that buzz wears off.”
The song ended and the music changed to a fast dance tune. Lainey grabbed both his hands and shook them back and forth. “Wanna dance?” she cooed.
“I want to take you home.” He hauled her toward the door.
“Are you putting the moves on me?” she asked, laughing.
He kept walking. “Absolutely not.”
She tripped and landed against his back. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a real party pooper?”
“I don’t think so.” He looked down into her face, her generous mouth curved into an irresistible pout, and felt his insides tighten.
He straightened her and put his arm around her waist to steady them both. “How much did you have to drink?”
“Not a lot. Two or three. I think. They were yummy.”
She giggled again and he shook his head. “You’re a cheap date.”
“This is not a date,” she said as they moved out the bar’s front door on to the street. Night had fallen, cooling the temperature enough to make it almost pleasant.
“Tell me about it.” He dropped his hand from her waist. “My truck’s parked around the corner.”
He started down the sidewalk then noticed she wasn’t following.
She stood in front of Cowboys’ entrance, light from the neon pink sign making her skin glow. She tipped her head to one side and studied him, her expression a mix of confusion and raw pain.
“Would you want to date me?” she asked, her voice so low he barely heard her.
He rubbed his hands across his face. How could he answer that? He’d wanted to marry her ten years ago and spend the rest of their lives together. They both knew he’d offered because of the baby, because that’s what a boy from Brevia did when he got a girl pregnant. Who knew what would have happened if fate hadn’t stepped in?
“Come on,” he said by way of an answer. He held out a hand. “Let’s go.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t think...” she started before taking several wobbly steps toward the street. She caught herself on a lamppost before tumbling to the curb.
Ethan was at her side in an instant. “Lainey?”
She hung on to the streetlight like a life raft. “I need to go home,” she whispered.
“I know, honey.” He rubbed his palm against her back. “I can help you.”
She raised her bright green eyes to his, still clinging to the pole. “You won’t let me fall?”
“I won’t let you fall.”
Tentatively, she released one arm.
He leaned forward and wrapped it around his shoulder. “All the way now,” he coaxed.
Her other hand slid around the lamppost, and he scooped her up. He heard a chorus of whoops and catcalls from the small huddle of smokers outside
the bar.
She squirmed against him, trying to look over his shoulder. “How embarrassing,” she mumbled. “I can walk, you know.”
“I know,” he agreed. “But give your feet a break after all the dancing.”
She seemed to ponder that for a moment. “Good idea,” she said and dropped her head against his chest.
He walked quickly to his truck, trying not to notice the feel of her rounded bottom pressed into his stomach. He didn’t want to remember what it felt like to have her arms curled around him.
At the corner, he shifted her, pulling out his keys. Bending at an awkward angle, he opened the passenger door and deposited her as gently as he could. He reached over her to buckle the seat belt.
He tried to back out of the truck’s cab, but she reached up, placing her cool fingers on either side of his face.
“I’m definitely drunk,” she said with a lopsided smile.
He held his breath. “Yep.”
“You could take advantage of me.”
The air drained from his lungs. “Nope.”
Her expression turned serious. “I could take advantage of you.”
He closed his eyes. “You don’t—”
Her mouth touched his and he froze. Her tongue traced the curve of his lips. He didn’t move.
“Kiss me back,” she whispered into his mouth.
And, God help him, he did.
He pushed his fingers through her short curls and slanted his mouth over hers, pressing her against the truck’s leather seat. If ever there was a reminder that she’d left Brevia a girl and returned a woman, this kiss was it.
A very drunk woman.
He broke away, pressing his forehead to hers for several moments until he gained control. Her eyes didn’t open, and a slight smile lifted one corner of her mouth.
“Lainey—”
She made a muffled sound.
“Lainey?” he repeated, realizing she was fast asleep.
She wiggled deeper into the leather. He adjusted the seat belt where it cut across her neck and closed the passenger door.
He shook his head and blew out a frustrated breath. “Woman, you are the worst thing ever to happen to my ego.”
* * *
Lainey struggled to open one eye. She immediately regretted it as bright morning light pounded against her head, frying her few remaining brain cells.
“Owww.” She pulled the covers all the way up.
After a few minutes, she tried again, driven by a bone-deep need for water and a handful of ibuprofen. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she sat up. The pounding in her head intensified, and she wondered if the percussion session behind her temple might actually find its way out.
A glass of water and bottle of pills sat on her nightstand. She washed down two orange pills with a long drink.
For a moment, she congratulated herself on having the foresight to leave them there. Then memories of the previous night rushed through her mind. Random images of Ethan, his hands on her, his breath on her skin.
She glanced down at the old T-shirt and boxers she wore. She could feel that her bra and underpants remained intact. That was a good sign, right?
Her outfit from the previous night was folded in a neat pile on the dresser. That was bad.
Her eyes shifted to the clock on the nightstand. Nine-thirty. She patted the empty space next to her. No Pita.
A noise from downstairs propelled her to her feet. The dog was used to eating by eight. Lainey couldn’t take the chance on Pita getting into something else that would require veterinary services.
She walked down each step trying not to bounce or jostle any part of her body. “Pita,” she called as she headed through the hallway. She winced as even that small noise exploded in her head.
In the kitchen she expected to find garbage strewn across the floor or food pulled out of the pantry—definitely not the sight that greeted her.
Ethan stood in front of her mother’s old gas stove, stirring what looked to be a skillet full of eggs.
Several shopping bags sat on the tile counter. Pita lay sprawled under the kitchen table, her tail thumping.
Lainey rubbed at the crusted drool stuck to the side of her chin. “What are you doing?” Her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton.
Ethan glanced over his shoulder. “You’re awake,” he said, then turned his attention back to the stove. As if being in Vera’s kitchen making breakfast on a Sunday morning was normal.
More than her aching head threw her off balance. She sucked in an irritated breath, but the scent of coffee brewing distracted her.
Following her gaze, Ethan gestured toward the coffeepot. “It’s fresh.”
She poured a big mug and took a drink. The hot liquid felt smooth on her dry throat. She prayed the caffeine would kick in quickly and tried to get a handle on what was going on in her mother’s house. “You don’t cook,” she said, using her mug to point to the skillet.
“They’re eggs, Lainey. Not exactly five-star.”
“The only eggs you ever had were sandwiched between a McMuffin.”
“I was in med school. No one cooks in med school.”
That was one of the things he’d liked about her when they were together—how she’d cooked for him. It made him feel cared about he’d told her.
Lainey had taken the words to heart. She’d made sure the cupboards in her tiny dorm room were stocked with his favorite snacks. Anything to keep him coming around. Even when her soul ached for someone to love her for who she was and not because she made it so easy.
He chopped a handful of mushrooms and dropped them into the pan as the theme from The Twilight Zone played in her head. He stirred the eggs and lifted the lid on another fry pan.
“Is that bacon?”
“I thought you could use a greasy breakfast to soak up some of last night’s demons,” he answered, adjusting a knob on the front of the stove. “I got donuts, too.”
“From Three Rivers?” She hadn’t had anything from her favorite bakery in years.
He pointed to a box on the kitchen table. “A dozen jellies.”
That news made her temporarily forget the strangeness of the morning. “My favorite.”
“I remember,” he murmured, his attention focused on the stove.
She sank into one of the ladder-back chairs that circled the table, still moving slowly although the coffee had numbed the pain to a dull ache.
Flipping open the cardboard box, she inhaled the sweet, doughy aroma. Her first bite was like returning to heaven and worth the ten-year wait. She licked out a dollop of jelly with her tongue and noticed Ethan watching her, his mouth tipped up on one side.
“Thanks,” she said around a mouthful.
“Anytime.” His voice was low.
A flush spread from her toes to the top of her head. She rubbed her feet against Pita’s soft fur under the table.
“So did we...you know...?” she started, wanting to get the difficult conversation out of the way. She concentrated on the doughnut. “Parts of last night are fuzzy for me.”
He set a plate piled high with a perfect omelet and several strips of bacon in front of her.
“Did we get down and dirty?” he prompted.
She glanced up, heat pouring into her cheeks. “These aren’t my clothes from last night.”
He took the chair across from her. “Let’s see,” he said, rubbing his chin. “Would that have been before or after you passed out in my truck?”
“What’s wrong with me?” she asked with a groan. “I never get out of control.”
He tapped her plate with his fork. “Eat your eggs and stop beating yourself up. It’s been a crazy week. You let off a little steam—no big deal.”
“You’r
e doing it again.”
“What?”
“Being nice.”
He studied her over the rim of his coffee mug. “It makes me an idiot, I know. But do you want me to stop?”
Lainey couldn’t answer that question so she took another bite. Her eyes drifted closed. The omelet was perfect—light and creamy with the perfect mix of veggies and cheese. “This is so good.” It tasted familiar. “How did you—”
“Your mom.”
Her forked stopped midbite.
He shrugged. “I hung around here at mealtime for so many years, she eventually made me learn a few things. It was a lot better than being with my dad. And since my mom left...”
Lainey thought about what Steph had told her. “Did you stay at the clinic because you thought you’d wrecked my family?”
His shoulders stiffened. She thought he wouldn’t answer, but he took another drink then said, “At first, maybe. You know I didn’t like med school.”
She nodded.
“I was almost grateful for an excuse to drop out. Then after...” He paused. “After you left and Julia was gone, I felt bad for your parents. They seemed shell-shocked by everything.”
“That was a big club,” Lainey murmured, hoping old bitterness didn’t seep into her tone.
“The thing was, I liked working with the animals. I liked helping their owners. Taking care of them—it was good for me.”
She thought about his strong hands holding Pita. Lainey had been so consumed by her own loss after the miscarriage, she’d barely considered Ethan’s feelings. She’d assumed he felt relief at being released from his obligation to her. Now she could see that healing the animals had helped mend his scars.
He’d gone forward with his life, made a home and place in this community separate from the identity a small-town life thrust on its natives.
She’d moved forward, too, but kept the world at an arm’s—or camera’s—length away. Familiar resentment clogged her throat as she thought of the relationships she could have, the community and home she might have missed because of that.
Still the One Page 9
