Tug of Attraction

by Ashlyn Chase

  Ethan sighed. He didn’t want to listen to Charlotte’s lecture, but being rude and turning on the TV to drown her out wouldn’t do any good. She’d either shout in his ear or short out the television.

  “Fine. But there’s a method to my madness, Charlotte. If I let you in on it, can you keep it to yourself?”

  “Ha! Who am I going to tell?”

  “Good point.” He laid down the remote and took a long sip of his coffee.

  “Well?”

  “There’s no grand plan...I just know Brigit well enough to know she won’t be pressured into doing something she doesn’t want to do. Just as I don’t want to be pressured into anything I don’t want to do.”

  “But you want the baby, don’t you?”

  Ethan sighed. “I’ll take responsibility for the child, either way.”

  “That wasn’t what I asked. Put it this way, if something happened to Brigit, and I’m not saying it will, but if you were the only parent left, would you want to raise the child yourself or send her to a foster home?”

  Highly offended, Ethan was about to give her hell, but then he picked up on something. “Her? Do you know something we don’t?”

  Charlotte was quiet.

  Well, I guess that’s one way to shut her up.

  Eventually she murmured, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  Ethan sat up straight. “You know the sex of the child? How?”

  He heard her sigh.

  “Tell me, Charlotte.”

  “Spirits can sense each other.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing. It’s kind of like we all know each other on a soul-deep level. I can’t tell you what she’ll look like. I don’t have a crystal ball. But I can tell you she has a beautiful soul.”

  “She?” Ethan couldn’t speak. A lump in his throat and tears behind his eyes made him choke up. When he got himself under control he mumbled, “Fuck.”

  Thankfully, Charlotte gave him a few minutes of respectful silence to mull that over. A million thoughts invaded his brain. What should I do now? Propose before she’s ready? Ask her parents to help me convince her? That idea he nixed right away. He didn’t want her to succumb to outside pressure.

  “Oh, goddess. A little girl. I can’t just walk away.”

  “No, you can’t. I know you have a soft spot for women. You treated your dates well, even if you didn’t get too close. You were always protective of your mother. You’ve even been protective of me, not that anyone can hurt me now...”

  Ethan chuckled. “Yeah, well...You still have feelings. You’ve made that abundantly clear.”

  She was quiet again. Probably giving him time to think of a better plan than waiting for Brigit to come around on her own. The only problem with that was, he had no better plan.

  “You’ll think of something,” she said, as if she could read his mind.

  He dropped his head in his hands. “I hope you’re right.”

  * * * *

  Ethan stood in his boat’s kitchen and dialed Brigit’s new phone number. A stray thought brought him back to the love spell the coven did on Midsummer night. It had ended in near disaster, and everyone was nervous about what that meant. What had he cast his spell for? Ah yes...easygoing women. He almost snorted. Brigit certainly didn’t qualify and a baby...

  “Yup. It backfired all right,” he mumbled.

  “What backfired?” his deck hand asked.

  He whirled toward the door. “Shit. I didn’t see you there.”

  He didn’t have time to talk to the guy. He wouldn’t have known what to tell him anyway. He kept his Wiccan spirituality under wraps at work.

  “Excuse me.” He strode to his cabin and shut the door.

  Thankfully Brigit answered on the third ring. “Hey, handsome.”

  Whew. That’s a good start.

  “And hello to you too, beautiful.”

  She giggled. Brigit seemed to be in a good mood, so he hoped his timing might be right—for once.

  “Are you free tonight?” he asked.

  “It depends.”

  He frowned. “On what?”

  “Well, I was going to sew. You missed the fun the other night, by the way.”

  “I’m sorry I had to run out on you, but this job is 24/7. What did I miss?”

  She chuckled. “Myranda and I had attacks of morning sickness at the same time and had to break out of the circle to throw up. Sorry, that’s not exactly sexy conversation, but you’ll probably hear about it. We took a lot of ribbing after we finally finished the ritual.”

  He chuckled. “That’s where being friends first is a definite pro. You can tell me anything, and you don’t have to worry about sounding sexy.”

  “True. So, about tonight...”

  “Yeah. Can I take you out to dinner?”

  There was a long pause on the other end. At last she said, “Now that you know where I live anyway, how about if you come over for dinner. I’m not a great cook, but I won’t poison you.”

  “Nice. The mother of my child won’t poison me. Now that’s sexy.”

  She chuckled. “Maybe you can bring a movie and I’ll make popcorn—Oh. Cancel the popcorn. I just remembered strong smells set me off.”

  “Yeah. Let’s try not to repeat the other night. How about if I bring take out?”

  “I’m on a special diet. It might just be easier if I cook. Or don’t you trust me now.”

  “I trust you completely, sweetheart. If you kill me, there goes your child support, and I’ll just haunt you.”

  He heard her sigh. “Sorry. What did I say?”

  “Oh, nothing. Just the child support thing. I didn’t want—”

  “I know, Brigit. I know you didn’t want it, but that’s what I hoped to talk to you about. We should face facts and make some kind of plans for the future of our child.”

  Silence followed.

  “Brigit?”

  “Yeah. I know you’re right.” Her tone was one of defeat. Did she really feel defeated?

  “Still think you can cook dinner without poisoning me?”

  She snorted. “Yeah. Like you said, you’d just haunt me anyway. You already do.”

  * * * *

  Brigit opened the door that she thought she’d never let Ethan enter. He dropped a quick kiss on her cheek and breezed in like he owned the place.

  She had to adjust. Her carefully outlined plan seemed to be crumbling by the wayside, like it or not.

  “So how have you been feeling?” he asked.

  “Better,” she lied. “Thanks for asking. Did you bring a movie?” She strode to the kitchen without waiting for an answer.

  He followed her. “Yeah. I remembered that you said The Crucible was your favorite play, so I found the movie. It only took five phone calls. You need to subscribe to Netflix.”

  She almost groaned aloud. She wasn’t in the mood for a seriously sad historical piece. But he had remembered what she’d said and gone to a lot of trouble to please her. If this wasn’t just his dating persona, she had to admit she couldn’t do any better than Ethan Cox.

  The one thing she could do was stall the movie with the critical conversation they had to have. But one thing at a time. Dinner first.

  “Something smells good,” he said as he followed her to the kitchen.

  “It’s not gourmet, but it will fill us up.” She moved the steak to the top rack and turned on the broiler. “I probably should have asked you what you like, but I figured I couldn’t go too wrong with steak and mashed potatoes.”

  He grinned. “It’s like you’re psychic.”

  She had already set her small kitchen table and took the salads out of the fridge. “Have a seat.”

  “There’s something I need to do first,” he said.

  “Oh. It’s the door on the right.”

  He chuckled. “No. That’s not what I meant.” He took her in his arms and kissed her thoroughly.

  She could swear her toes curled.

  When he release
d her, she was breathless and lightheaded. She didn’t think that had anything to do with the pregnancy, unless it was the sensitive hormones responding to intense pleasure.

  “Now I’ll sit down,” he said with a grin.

  “Yeah, me too.” Before my knees buckle.

  They ate their salads in silence. Brigit wondered who was going to bring up the subject of just how to plan for their child’s future first. Ethan seemed to think it was time to do that, so she figured she’d let him go first.

  “Well?” she prompted.

  “Well, what?”

  “Are you kidding? I thought you wanted to talk about our child’s future.”

  He smiled. “You said ‘our child.’ That’s what I was waiting to hear.”

  She wanted to kick him under the table. “Fine. I acknowledge that you have contributed your DNA and probably have some rights.”

  “It’s the responsibilities we need to address first.”

  He wanted to talk about the child’s welfare before his own. She remembered reading a definition of love that said exactly that. He already loves our child. She melted a bit. “Okay. I have no idea where to start, so you go first. I’ll do my best to keep an open mind.”

  “Thank you,” he said, sounding relieved.

  She focused on her salad as he outlined his financial situation. He was in good shape in that area. In fact, he seemed to be in pretty good shape in every area. She had worried about his mother’s suicide possibly indicating depression that he could have inherited. Not anymore. He had been nothing but stable...more stable than she was if she were to be totally honest. But she had an excuse. Pregnancy brain.

  “So. There’s plenty of wiggle room there. How much do you think you’ll need? Let’s assume you’ll be a stay-at-home mom.”

  “Whoa! Who said I’m going to mooch off of you to that extent?”

  “It’s not mooching, Brigit.” He frowned. “It’s erring on the safe side. We don’t know if you’ll get a job that pays enough to cover all your expenses, including health insurance. I could add you to my policy if we were married, but you’ve already made it clear that’s not what you want.”

  Was it clear? She was suddenly more confused than ever. Why couldn’t that damn contract have been real and binding? Why did she believe that slimy lawyer, anyway?

  All water under the bridge, she reminded herself.

  “Earth to Brigit.”

  “Huh? Did you say something?”

  “No, but you seemed to go far away.”

  “Uh, yeah. Sorry. Pregnancy brain.” That’s my excuse for everything from now on, and I’m sticking to it.

  “Okaaay...So how do you want to do this? Should I run some numbers? Try to figure out how much you’ll need for food, clothing, diapers, healthcare, etc?”

  “Uh...” Shoot. She had never considered the possibility of losing her job. If Ethan took off—like so many other guys she knew, she’d be depending on her step-father.

  “I, uh...I can look into those things. I’ll make some kind of itemized list. It’s the least I can do.”

  He smiled. “Good. We’re getting somewhere.” He pulled a paper out of his pocket and checked off a box.

  She was about to protest when she smelled something burning. “Oh no! The steak!” Jumping out of her seat, she rushed to the oven and shut off the broiler. She opened the oven door and smoke poured out.

  Ethan laughed.

  “What’s so funny? I ruined our dinner.”

  “How about if I order a pizza to be delivered?”

  She sighed. The potatoes were boiled and sitting in hot water. But a dinner of salad and mashed potatoes wouldn’t be enough for a grown man. It sounded pretty good to her, but she’d have to claim pregnancy brain on that one too.

  #

  Well, Brigit would be no prize in the kitchen, but fortunately he’d learned to cook for himself long ago. They continued to discuss in detail every item on his check list in a mature and open-minded fashion. He was proud of her for letting her stubborn façade dissolve in favor of their child’s welfare.

  She wanted to breast feed, and he was on call, so he’d have to come here or she’d have to bring the baby to his place and stick around. They didn’t want a set firm schedule because there would be other things to work around, like doctor’s appointments and Brigit’s job if and when she got one. They’d aim for 3 or 4 days per week and see what happened.

  Lots of time together. That’s what he wanted. Once he’d made up his mind that a family was the only thing missing from his life, the idea grew on him like ivy on a church.

  Finally, he was able to put the list back in his pocket with every box checked, but one. The pizza arrived as if on cue.

  The final hurdle needed a little finesse and precise timing.

  He wanted a commitment. Not marriage—not yet. Maybe not ever...yet two people in love could certainly commit to monogamy. He had to look for an opening to bring it up. The chore they had just finished was anything but romantic, so he decided to change the subject completely while they ate. For some reason, she didn’t have any pizza—just mashed potatoes.

  When they were finished, she put the dishes in the sink and they went to the living room. He debated about suggesting they watch the movie. Ugh. The downer movie. He wished he hadn’t tried so hard to find it. Instead, she sat next to him and he gathered her closer with an arm around her shoulder.

  “So, you were in a very good mood when I called you earlier today. Any reason for that?”

  She smiled and her whole demeanor relaxed. “Yes. Myranda went with me to one of the designer boutiques downtown this morning. We were both wearing the coats I made. I was going to ask for the shop owner anyway, but she came right over and introduced herself. She had noticed our coats the minute we walked in and asked me about them.”

  “That’s great. I noticed you got a lot of compliments on yours the other night, and Myranda said something about bringing you some material to make one for her.”

  “Yes. I finished it yesterday and she loved it.”

  “That’s seems quick. I don’t know how much time it takes to make a coat, but it sounds as if you made it in a couple of days.”

  “Well, with nothing else to do...Besides, it was easy. We’re about the same size, so I didn’t need to alter the pattern. And she liked the style, so I just made a duplicate of mine in a different material. You’ll see it. She chose a pretty herringbone print.”

  “I know what a herring bone looks like, but I wouldn’t have thought dead fish bones were that attractive. I have the feeling you’re talking about something else.”

  She laughed. It was so good to hear her laugh again. “I can show you the remnants.”

  “Nah. Don’t get up. I’ll take your word for it. Dead fish bones are pretty.”

  She rose, “I can’t let you go around thinking I made Myranda a coat out of dead fish bones. Hang on one minute.”

  She strode out of the room and returned a moment later with a print he’d seen before, but just didn’t know the name of. It looked like a lot of intersecting letter V’s.

  “It’s black and white, so it must look very different from your multi-colored Indian blanket coat.”

  “Yes. That’s the beauty of print. I can make the same coat in different fabrics and sizes and no two will look alike. Plus I can add a belt to some for non-pregnant women.” Brigit set the fabric on her coffee table and settled next to him again. “And here’s the best part. The store wants six of them! Two small, two medium and two large.

  “Congratulations! No wonder you were in a good mood.”

  “No shit.” She giggled. “Guess how much she’s going to charge for one coat?”

  “I don’t know. How much?”

  “Three-hundred and fifty bucks. I get sixty percent of that.”

  Ethan took a few seconds to calculate. “That’s two hundred and ten dollars per sale for you.”

  “I know. Not too shabby, right?”

  “R
ight.” Ethan didn’t want to burst her bubble by taking into account the work hours spent and the possibility of less than stellar sales, so he just kissed her temple and stroked her arm. She cuddled right into him.

  “I don’t want to get too excited. It’s not like I can count on that income long term, but it’s something.”

  He swept her hair over her shoulder. “You’re something.” His lips descended for a kiss and she raised her face to meet his.

  Chapter 14

  Hanna paced the dirt road and waited impatiently for Fayleen to show up at the garbage dump. The odors assaulting her nose made her shut down her sense of smell for a while.

  At last Fayleen appeared in front of her.

  “What? No floating upside down? No descent from the tree tops?”

  “I didn’t have the energy for a grand entrance,” Fayleen said.

  Hanna placed a hand on her Fayleen’s forehead. “Are you feeling all right?”

  She gave her a weak smile. “I’m fine. Just a little depressed. I didn’t find a trace of Raven’s car in either of the Carolinas.”

  “Well, I have some news that might cheer you up.”

  “Oh?”

  “I found the bill of sale in Florida.”

  Fayleen jumped in the air yelling, “Eureka,” and then floated to the ground.

  “I remembered her saying she had moved back to New England from Florida,” Hanna continued. “Apparently her step-father moved to Daytona Beach when she was in high school. She missed her friends up North, so as soon as she graduated she moved back to Portsmouth.”

  “I’ll be darned. So, do you think she’s staying with her step-dad?”

  “It’s possible she was there for a while, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she found another place. I don’t think they got along.”

  “Damn. So she may or may not be in the vicinity of Daytona Beach.”

  “Correct. We have another clue though.”

  “Oh?” Fayleen rubbed her hands together. “What is it?”

  “Her mother was a friend of mine, so I know her step-dad’s name. He signed the bill of sale, and now I have his address.”

  “You did it! You found someone who knows where she is!” Fayleen tackle-hugged Hanna, who landed on her back in the dirt.