by Susan Hatler
Interesting. The distant way he spoke about her made it sound like they’d never gotten touchy feely. Even though she was pretty and he looked as close to an Italian god as a mortal man can get. And, did he know that his hand was still on mine? Because every part of my body knew it. Even places that are so not appropriate for a history bud.
Pulling my hand away, I tucked my hair behind my ear. “Feel free to work while I’m here. I’m just supposed to shadow and observe.”
He eyed me a moment, then rose to his feet. “Let me give you a quick tour first, so you can see the law in action. Very exciting stuff.”
Ethan showed me both floors of the law office—he was right, a lot of people worked past five at this firm. He introduced me to a real estate lawyer upstairs, Tiffany, who seemed nice. She was on her way out to drinks with her friend, Amanda, who gazed up at Ethan, and hung on every word he said.
She had to be the girl Ethan asked me about at the gym. If so, the answer was obviously yes. Amanda was way into him. Tiffany lowered her voice and asked me if Ethan and I were dating, but I assured her we were just friends. Watching Tiffany’s friend chat with Ethan, it was easy to see why she’d wanted to know if he was a free agent. What I couldn’t tell, was how Ethan felt about Amanda—which unnerved me.
I mean, wasn’t he supposed to be helping me with my Career Crush task?
Finally, after explaining to Amanda (several times) special damages versus general damages in civil lawsuits (that I’d swear she understood the first time around), he bid them good-bye and led me to the conference room downstairs where he had a bunch of manila file folders piled in various stacks.
“Let me know if you have any questions,” he said, then dove into his work, pouring through a file labeled Discovery Documents (whatever they were). He typed notes onto his laptop, using two fingers, I noted. He was actually fast with them and the tap tap tap of the keys went on and on, until I’m pretty sure he forgot I was there. Ho hum.
Needless to say, I found lawyering to be, in one word, boring.
There was no human interaction. Nothing to stimulate me. Slumping onto the conference table, I supported my head with my hand, and studied him. I’d known Ethan around nine months, but still hadn’t figured him out. He seemed too focused. Too together. What was really going on behind those intense mocha eyes? Maybe he was hiding body parts in his briefcase. Which would be a shame, since his briefcase appeared to be genuine leather.
You never knew though. The man admittedly had secrets.
That he refused to show me.
Unable to stand the silence between us any longer, I squinted. “Your secret can’t possibly be as cool as you think it is.”
His fingers froze over the keyboard, and the corner of his mouth turned up as his eyes flicked to mine. “You held out longer than I expected. I knew you still wanted to see it.”
His immediate response, and the look he’d given me, made it clear he hadn’t phased me out while he’d been working. No, he’d been aware of me the entire time.
The realization made me smile. “I didn’t say I wanted to see it. I just doubt it’s as riveting as you claim.”
“It is.” He swiveled until he was facing me, then the corners of his mouth tipped up. “I’m not showing you, though, until you admit you’re dying to know about it.”
I pursed my lips, and shook my head. “Not really.”
Dying might be overstating it. Or not.
He checked his watch. “I’m pretty much done here, and I have an errand to run. Before we go, do you have any questions about the office? Or the law?”
My heart sank, but I sat up quickly. “Nope. I’m good.”
“Okay, then.” He closed his laptop, slid it next to one of the files in his briefcase, then slipped his hand into mine. “Let’s get some dinner.”
Dinner? With me? And did he notice he was holding my hand?
My pulse sped up as my heart battled with my head over going to dinner.
Heart: It’d just a meal. We have to eat.
Head: Right. Like I’m buying that.
Heart: His hand feels all warm and cozy.
Head: Yeah, but what about Amanda’s hand? Or, whoever else he might be dating?
Heart: Good point.
I cleared my throat. “Just to be clear, this dinner would be as friends. Right?”
As he led me out of the building, he turned, and smiled. “Of course.”
But he didn’t let go of my hand.
****
Forty-five minutes later, we’d picked up take-out from Cafe Bernardo in midtown, then headed south on Highway 99 in Ethan’s SUV. The music was low, but on a light rock station I often listened to. Unfortunately, the relaxing tunes did nothing to soothe my nerves.
Why had Ethan held my hand? More importantly, why had I let him? And why were we having dinner together? Although, people had to eat. And I did love Cafe Bernardo. Still, there was nothing history-related about sharing a meal together. Did this mean he was interested in me? If so, why the sudden change?
We exited the freeway, and the city lights of Elk Grove disappeared behind us. “Since I have no idea where you’re taking me, I feel it’s only fair to ask if you have an axe in the trunk?”
With his hands on the steering wheel, he stole a quick glance at me. “No axe.”
I watched the sunset over the open fields on the left side of the road as we headed into Wilton. “Machete?”
He chuckled. “The only things in the back are golf clubs, and a case of wine.”
“A golf club makes a great weapon.” I pointed out.
“You’re safe with me.” His eyes were on the road, but he reached for my hand, and laced his fingers through mine. “Why are you so nervous?”
Millions of flutters danced in my belly. “Because this feels like a date.”
“Would that be so bad?” he asked, seriously.
More like so dangerous. “Yes.”
“Then, it’s not a date.” His voice was calm and sure, but his thumb brushed back and forth over the top of my hand in a way that sent tingles through me.
Ethan was holding my hand. I didn’t hate it exactly. But I didn’t want to like it, either.
I swallowed, but couldn’t make myself pull away from him. “Where are we going? And don’t say on an errand, because I already know that part.”
He turned right, down a desolate road where the mailboxes were few and far between. “To my friend James’s house. He’s another associate at the firm. I’m dropping off the case of wine.”
Thinking of the obvious, I asked, “Why didn’t you give it to him at work?”
Giving my hand a little squeeze, he released it, then used both hands to turn down a gravel driveway. “He took the week off. He’s staying at his girlfriend’s tonight, but tomorrow they’re taking the boat out, and he’s going to propose. This is their favorite wine, and I thought it would be a fun surprise for them.”
Wow. That was so . . . thoughtful. And nice. Men just weren’t this freaking perfect, though. Ethan had to have some kind of angle.
Not that it mattered, since he was only a friend, and this wasn’t a date. It also didn’t matter that Rach had left me a voicemail earlier saying she’d gone through Noah’s entire apartment and found nothing suspicious what-so-ever.
Ethan pulled up to the side of the house, next to the boat, and turned the engine off. Leaving the keys in the ignition, he popped the back. “Hang here a sec, while I take the wine up.”
The music wafted through the speakers, and a familiar love song came on. When I found myself humming along, I bopped the button to turn it off. What was Ethan doing to me?
My heart battled with my head again.
Head: We need clear boundaries.
Heart: But Ethan’s so sweet. Let’s go for it.
Head: We’ve been wrong before.
Heart: Maybe this time you’re wrong for holding back.
Head: Actually, that does seem like a logical possibility.
Just as I reached for the handle on my door, Ethan opened it. He helped me up, and when I was standing . . . we were way too close. My eyes were level with where his tie had been, but he’d taken it off, and unbuttoned the collar. He smelled clean, like laundry soap. I had the urge to nuzzle his neck and breathe him in.
Instead, I ducked back into the car, and grabbed his keys from the ignition.
“Ready?” He pushed my door closed behind me, then opened the back passenger door, and retrieved the bag of take-out. Taking a step forward, he crunched across the gravel toward the back of the boat.
I followed close behind. “This isn’t the secret, is it?”
He gestured for me to climb the ladder first. “Are you asking to see it?”
“No,” I said, quickly.
His forehead wrinkled, and he shook his head. “Too bad. You’re going to love it.”
“Eh.” I waved a hand as if I couldn’t care less, even as I wracked my brain. Stolen stacks of cash? A letter from a stalker? Wait, why would I supposedly love that? I was losing it. . . .
Less than a minute later, we were on the boat, in Ethan’s friend’s side yard—basically in the middle of nowhere. The sun was almost done setting, so the dim light cast a rusty-yellow glow across the horizon. I eyed the case of wine he’d set on the floor. “This is your boat, I take it? We’re not breaking and entering?”
He laughed, then pulled our pasta containers out of the bag. “Yes, it’s mine. I own it with James and another guy from the office. Do you like it?”
“What’s not to like?” Instead of a ski boat like Noah had, Ethan owned a pontoon boat, which was bigger and more plush—as plush as you could get and still be water-resistant, anyway. I walked around, checking things out, then came back to where Ethan had set the table.
“We keep the boat here, because James has the most space in his yard.” Pouring red wine into two clear plastic cups, he gestured toward the nearest bench. “Have a seat.”
My feet refused to move. “You paid for dinner. That makes this a date.”
He shook his head, then set the bottle on the small table. “We’ve bought each other’s tickets before. You can get dinner next time.”
My tummy rumbled, so I relented. “Fine.”
The meal was delicious. As always. Loved Cafe Bernardo. Our conversation was easy—we mostly talked about things we’d viewed on the History channel, but would love to see in real life. Like The Duomo and The Ponte Vecchio for me, and The Great Pyramid of Giza for Ethan.
While he refilled our cups, then gathered the trash together, I rolled onto my belly on the bench. “This is so comfy, I could sleep here.”
Ethan smiled, a wicked glint in his eye. “Want to?”
The thought was enticing. “I meant theoretically.”
“Me, too.” The smirk he wore told me otherwise, and goose bumps prickled along my neck. Setting the trash bag aside, he sat down on the floor next to me, leaning his right side against what I assumed was some kind of storage cabinet. He took a sip of wine. “How’s the career search going?”
Propped on my elbows, I sipped my own wine, then peered up at him. “I’ve filled out three very long questionnaires from Career Crush on my background, interests, work experience, and so on. I still need to write a report for today’s task and turn that in, but I also have a lead on something new.”
He rested his arms around his knees, and held his cup just under its rim. “Tell me.”
I lifted my cup to my lips, then swallowed the rich, spicy liquid. “The Human Resources Manager may be giving notice at the place where I’m temping. I’m qualified, and she thinks highly of me, so my search might be over. Finally. Changing careers makes me feel like I’m drowning, and need the right job to save me.”
“I’ve got just the thing to help you.” Setting his cup down, he reached into the cabinet, pulled out a bright red and white life preserver, and put it around me. “Now you can save yourself.”
I burst out laughing. “Except we’re not in the water.”
“Think of it as symbolic, since you said you were drowning from your career pursuit.” He sat down again, closer this time, his brown eyes staring into mine. “Want to tell me why you began the search in the first place?”
I studied my wine, then lifted my lashes. “It’s simple. I can’t help people when I have bad judgment myself.”
He stared at me a moment, then his eyes sparked in understanding. “Because of Jake.”
It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t answer—just took another sip of wine, and shrugged.
His jaw tightened, then he looked up into the sky as if studying the blanket of stars that had appeared. Next, he took a slow, steadying breath, and turned back to me. “My high school sweetheart and I were together seven years. For two of the three years in college, she had another boyfriend, and I never knew.”
An ache formed in my throat. “You both went away to different colleges?”
He nodded. “One day, I thought everything was fine. The next, I’d driven all night for a surprise visit, and when I got there she wasn’t alone.”
“I’m sorry. That must’ve been awful.” Bringing my hands together, I fingered the bottom of my glass. “That’s different than my situation though.”
His brows quirked. “How?”
I gestured with my free hand. “You were young. It wasn’t day-to-day. You didn’t study human behavior for a living—”
“It still hurt,” he cut me off, his voice tight. “I got played, and doubted myself.”
I scoffed. “How could you doubt yourself?”
He leaned close. “How could I not?”
Unable to believe he’d asked such a crazy question, I blurted, “Because, she was the skank. You’re . . . perfect.”
He blinked, as if surprised. Then he ran his thumb along my cheek. “So are you.”
My skin tingled where he touched me, and I stared up into his deep brown eyes that simmered, focused completely on me. I knew this non-date hadn’t been a good idea.
I blamed that look, which clearly did wild things to me, because I sat up, tossed the life preserver aside, then snaked my hand around his neck. I leaned close, an inch away from him, and watched his eyes darken—then I pressed my mouth to his. As soon as our lips touched, tingles spread across my chest.
Suddenly, I felt free. Like nothing mattered other than Ethan’s lips against mine. Then, his mouth parted, his tongue connecting with mine, sending an electric current straight through my belly. He tasted of spicy wine, the flavor delicious, and addicting. I needed more.
I knew I should stop. But, really, what would a few more kisses hurt?
His fingers laced through my hair, while his mouth devoured mine with undivided attention—sending tingles to places where, I’m sorry, but friends just didn’t go. Although I seriously wanted to. “This is so past the friend zone,” I mumbled, pointing out the obvious.
He pulled back slightly, searching my eyes. “Do you want to stop?”
I didn’t hesitate. “No.”
“Good.” He chuckled, then captured my mouth with his. This time more urgently. Oh, yes. More. I couldn’t catch my breath with his tongue melting with mine in a way that felt so right. It shot all kinds of warning signals flashing in my head. Kissing Ethan felt good. Too good. I wanted to savor every second of it.
But it could only end in one way. And the feelings I had for Ethan were way stronger than I’d had with Jake. Since Jake had devastated me, I couldn’t imagine what the pain would be like from Ethan.
I pulled back. “Wait.”
Brushing his hand against my cheek, his lids were heavy as he studied me. “What’s wrong?”
Shaking my head, I had to force the words out. “I can’t do this.”
His eyes peered into mine. “Why not, honey?”
My chest ached, and a big part of me wanted to give in. “I can’t go through all that again. I just can’t.”
He leaned his forehead against
mine. “I’d never hurt you.”
I wanted to believe him. Really, really wanted to, but . . . “I’m sorry.”
Forcing myself away from him, I popped off the bench, then discarded the empty wine cup in the trash.
Ethan came up behind me, put his hands on my hips, and rested his cheek next to mine. “Talk to me.”
Even though I wanted to melt against him, I wasn’t sure if I could trust him. Wasn’t sure if I could trust my own feelings for him no matter how amazing he seemed.
I turned, and held my hand up. “Just take me home. Please.”
A flicker of hurt flashed across his face, like he didn’t understand what had changed when I’d so clearly been into him. He ran his finger along my jawbone. “If that’s what you need.”
Avoiding his eyes, I nodded. “Thank you.”
We drove back to Sac in silence. Ethan may seem flawless, but I’d been a terrible judge of character before, and we all knew history tended to repeat itself.
Ethan was just too tempting for me. From now on, I needed to stay away from him. Completely away from him.
Chapter Five
The next day at noon, Ellen, Rach, and I sat on a red velvet bench at Cafe Mattia, waiting for a table. It had been hard denying my feelings for Ethan before. Now that I’d kissed him, it was impossible. Especially when I kept replaying those kisses in my head.
Feeling desperate, I decided to level with my friends about what happened with Ethan last night. Just as I opened my mouth to spill all, Rach grabbed my arm.
“I found something,” she said, staring at me wide-eyed. “Noah is the one who contacted Kate. Not the other way around.”
Ellen tossed me a hostile glance.
Feeling guilty, I swallowed. “Did Noah tell you she’d called him?”
The hostess announced my name, and we paused our conversation until she seated us at a secluded table in the corner.
Rach sat down, then shook her head. “He didn’t say who initiated the dinner. But, don’t you think it’s odd? If she was really coming into town for work, wouldn’t she have let him know?”
