Franci shot her a glare. “I have footage on my phone from your birthday.”
Okay, that was low. One look at that recording of her attempting to sing at a karaoke bar had cured her dream of stardom. “Fine. Truce?”
“For now,” Franci agreed. “But you owe us. Our plan worked. Operation Kiss 2.0 was a masterful plan. Right, Chelle?”
“Hell yeah.” She dropped her head to the back of the couch. “God I am never looking at tequila again.”
Ana had coaxed them into drinking some water and Gatorade in the limo, and dosed them with Advil too. Overall she didn’t think their hangover was that bad. They’d be raising hell in a few hours. “Wrong. I’m seeing him because I hijacked your plot and did the cleverest thing of all by asking him if he wanted to get together and catch up.”
Chelle got up and crossed the room to touch Ana’s shoulder. “We’re trying to help you. We weren’t there for you when you found that lump. You went through a lot in the last weeks, and…” She looked away, her eyes wide with regret.
“I’m fine. I’ve told you guys that. I showed you the lab report.”
Crossing her arms, Chelle pointed out, “You didn’t show me, I found it in your bedroom. We wouldn’t have even known you had a biopsy.”
Ana took a breath, hating the cold loneliness that made her feel like the outsider. She’d tried to tell them, but Ana didn’t get to have problems. She had to be perfect, the girl who solved everyone else’s crises. That’s not fair, and you know it. People can’t help if they don’t know.
She fought down her misplaced anger and tried to soothe Chelle with, “I would have told you guys if they found something. There’s no cancer, I’m fine. And damned lucky.” Too many people in the world got the bad news. Ana had been very fortunate and had no right to the little pity party trying to suck her in. She was on vacation to celebrate her good health.
Chelle softened a bit. “I just feel awful. I know you tried to tell me, and I was so panicked over work and—”
A knock on the door cut her off.
“Chelle, stop.” She and Franci had been alternating between guilt and anger at Ana for not making them listen. “It’s over, okay?” She didn’t want to dwell on it. “That’s probably Ethan now.” She narrowed her eyes. “Be good, and don’t bring up the biopsy.” Ethan wasn’t there to listen to her problems. This was for fun, nothing else. She wanted to feel like a desirable woman and push her boundaries a little bit.
She went to the door and opened it.
“Hey.” Ethan took off his sunglasses and did a slow study of her print silk shift dress in island colors, legs bare all the way down to her flats. “Now that was worth the drive.”
A flush warmed her against the room’s air-conditioning. She looped her purse over her shoulder and called out, “We’re leaving.”
Franci rushed up to them. “Hi, Ethan. Thanks for saving Ana from us last night.”
“No problem.” He tossed her the keys. “Here’s the car back.”
Franci caught them, then frowned. “How are you returning to your hotel?”
Oh crap. Ana hadn’t even thought of that. “I could drive you.”
He waved it off. “I had a rental car meet me here. I’m good. Come on, let’s get something to eat.” He held out his hand.
Franci bumped her from behind. “Two words,” she whispered. “Vacation sex. Chelle and I are going shopping. You can have the room all to yourself.”
One look at the grin on Ethan’s face told Ana he’d heard. She put her hand in his and hurried out the door. It was either that or slam the door so she didn’t have to face his teasing.
Ethan squeezed her hand. “It seems Operation Kiss 2.0 has been upgraded.”
Once inside the elevator, she went for bluntness. “Despite Franci and Chelle’s shenanigans, you’re perfectly safe with me. If you decide this isn’t what you want, we’ll both walk away.”
He stepped into her space, raising their joined hands over her head. “What if it’s you who’s not safe with me?”
Her breath caught as Ethan loomed above her in the glass elevator. There was nothing threatening in him though, it was…protective. “In what way? You’d never hurt me.”
“I walked away eleven months ago because you were still in college, your father had passed weeks before that, and you were too damned vulnerable. But my restraint just ran out. Understand that once our time here in Florida is over, I will leave again. Don’t mistake me for a good guy. We both know I’m not. So the question is, can you handle that?”
The elevator lurched slightly as it stopped. Ana stood perfectly still, relishing in the feel of Ethan’s hand bracing hers against the elevator glass, and his eyes eating her up. Could she handle it? Damn right she could. It might hurt—okay it would hurt—but she understood that she wasn’t going to come first with Ethan. He’d made that clear.
Tilting her head back, she arched a brow. “Now that you’ve done your grand speech, can we have lunch?”
The edges of his eyes crinkled. “You always were impatient to eat.” He tugged her out of the elevator. “You have someplace in mind?”
Regaining her wits after that display of caveman sexiness, she answered, “I’m taking you to the Flying Bridge. It’s a dock out over the Gulf. It’s too pretty a day to stay inside.”
People wandered around in bathing suit cover-ups, shorts and sundresses, a few playing miniature gulf, splashing in the pool, some kids chasing each other and laughing. Once they got their seat on the dock and ordered, she let her curiosity surface. “Do you like doing security for the band?”
“I’m good at it. We’ve had some crazy stuff. Stalkers, psychos, one guy starting fires, and the women.” He rolled his eyes. “I’d rather deal with a knife-wielding crazed man than a woman bent on trapping a rock star. They are devious little shits. The stunts they’ve pulled are insane.”
“Wait, have you dealt with a knife-wielding crazy?”
“It’s rare.” He paused while the server set down Ana’s Mediterranean vegetable wrap and Ethan’s Philly special. After topping off their drinks, she left. Ethan took a bite. “This is good.”
Worry for Ethan blared in her head. “But there have been knife attacks?” She knew his job had a dangerous element to it, but she hadn’t dwelled on it.
“Had a guy with a knife go after Gray. We were hanging out in a hotel bar, but it was over in seconds. I saw the guy before he got close, shoved Gray down into a booth and disarmed the attacker. No one was hurt.” He flashed a grin. “Okay, that’s a lie. I caught Gray by surprise, and he smacked his face on the table. Had a bloody nose. Dude was pissed about that.”
Oh God. “You weren’t hurt?”
He gave her a look. “One guy with a knife, Ana. I saw him coming. If I’d been hurt, I’d have deserved it.”
“I know.” Ethan was capable and strong. He’d worked hard to shift his MMA experience into becoming the best security possible, including intensive weapons training. She was confident in his skills, but he was still her Ethan, and she couldn’t help worrying. To distract herself, she picked up her wrap and took a bite.
Ethan stole one of her fries. “Stop fretting. The guy wasn’t trained, just a nut. He believed that every time Gray chose to play the piano instead of keyboard, he was summoning the devil. Which is pretty funny because of the five of them, Gray’s the most civilized.”
“Civilized how?”
“He usually doesn’t get into fights, trash hotel rooms, leave groupies suicidal or enraged the morning after, that kind of thing. Dude’s not perfect though. He’s our ghost.”
Fascinated, she swallowed another bite and asked, “Ghost?”
“Disappears and we have no idea where the fuck he is. All of us on the team have lost Gray at one time or another. A knife-wielding psycho isn’t as likely to take me down as Gray disappearing on my watch.” He rubbed his chest. “That damn near gave me another heart attack.”
She tried to keep a wince off her
face at the mention of his heart attack. He’d been physically cleared to work on the security detail. “You look good. Strong and healthy.” More than healthy. Unable to help it, she eyed his thick, muscular arms in his T-shirt. He’d worn shorts, revealing his powerful thighs and calves. She’d seen women eyeing Ethan as they walked to the Flying Bridge.
“You checking me out, sunshine?”
Ana lifted her chin. “Just making sure you haven’t gotten fat without me around to motivate you.” Ethan was as competitive as her. She missed trying to keep up with him on the bike or kicking his ass on rollerblades. She could beat him in the batting cages, too, but anything else he’d leave her in his dust and laugh. She’d loved that too. Ethan never held back in competition with her. Nor did he get pissed when he lost.
His mouth curved. “I’m doing double duty as a trainer for the band. I work out with them as a group and individually around my bodyguard duties. It keeps me in shape. And since four of them have some skills in martial arts, we spar. It’s fun.”
“You do all that?” She had to admit she was impressed.
“Yep. It’s helped me to pay off my debts faster, and I like it.” He stole another fry. “Now it’s your turn. Tell me how it’s going for you.”
She set down the second half of her wrap. “You ordered fruit instead of fries, eat it.” She reached her fork over and speared a juicy chunk of melon. “I told you I graduated and that Kat offered me a promotion. She expanded from her original San Diego bakery to open branches in San Francisco and Los Angeles, and I was in on all that. Developing and implementing marketing plans for each one is a challenge.” Excitement bubbled just talking about it. “I travel more and more now. Plus we’re working on a Sugar Dancer product line of bake-at-home products, so I’ve been meeting with reps of various retail stores, pitching the idea, talking about possible deals. I’m learning so much.” She cut herself off. “Anyway, that’s my life.”
Ethan snagged yet another of her fries. “You love it.”
“I do. It’s gotten even crazier with Kat and Sloane’s wedding only a month away.” Her boss was marrying Sloane Michaels, the man who’d found Ethan living on the streets as a kid and took him in. While officially Sloane, a former UFC heavyweight champion, had done it as part of the Fighters to Mentors program, the reality was Sloane had finished raising Ethan and was more of a brother than mentor. She asked, “You’re coming to the wedding, right?”
Ethan set his iced tea down. “Yes. But I’ll probably be leaving soon after that.”
“But isn’t Savaged Illusions’s tour done then?” It took everything she had not to cringe with embarrassment. “I wasn’t hinting that we could go together or anything like that. You’re close to Sloane and I know he wants you there, that’s all I was thinking. I wasn’t suggesting anything more.” She got it, they weren’t dating. Ana had learned an important lesson that night when Ethan walked out—she had no right to use sex as a way to make someone want to be with her.
“I didn’t think that, and yes the tour will be over. But I have a shot at an apprenticeship with Chef Siena. You met her at the party last night, right?”
That gorgeous, funny woman? He’d be working with her? Ana’s food suddenly tasted like dry sand, but she managed to nod.
“I haven’t signed the contract yet, but it’s a fantastic opportunity. I’d get to work in several of her restaurants, travel with her and appear on some of her shows.”
“Oh, Ethan, that’s wonderful.” It really was, even if she had a pang at the thought of Ethan spending so much time with the beautiful chef. “Where did you meet her?”
“A big party at her restaurant in New York. I was there as security for the band, and that night the band had me sitting with them because they know I like to cook. Siena came out of the kitchen to meet the band, and we started talking. She showed me her kitchen, and one thing led to another.”
Incredible. Even she’d never imagined such a huge opportunity for Ethan. “You’re going to be a real chef someday.” Unable to help herself, she added, “Do you think you’ll ever come back to San Diego? Maybe open a restaurant? You know Sloane would invest in you.”
He leaned in close to her. “I screwed up, Ana. I let down a hell of a lot of people who believed in me, spent money and time on me, who were invested in my success as an MMA fighter. It wasn’t just Sloane, but all my trainers…” He trailed off, clenching his jaw so tight it bulged at the joint. “I’ll pay off every goddamned cent I owe, and I’m not taking another penny from Sloane. There are others out there who deserve his help. I had my chance.”
The blazing cold anger at himself ringing in his voice made the fine hairs on her arms prickle. It killed her that he couldn’t see how amazing he was for the very fact that he owned his blunder and was trying to make amends. “It was a mistake.”
“Don’t do that. A mistake is choosing the chicken when you crave a hamburger. Injecting steroids on a concise schedule is a choice to cheat. Don’t make excuses for what I did.” He looked out to the Gulf, his eyes hard. Unforgiving.
Ana couldn’t bear his self-recrimination. Yes, he had screwed up, but he’d paid the price. He’d cooperated with the police in every way, and he’d been working to pay off his debts. How could she not respect that?
Ana laid her hand over his fist clenched on the table. “What I know is that you made a bad choice, and when it blew up in your face, you could have been an asshole. Instead, you took complete responsibility down to working your ass off to pay Sloane back when we both know he didn’t ask it of you.” Kat had told Ana that, but Sloane was extremely proud of Ethan for doing it.
His brutal gaze softened. “You always see the good in people, stubborn girl.” He rubbed his thumb over her skin.
Wrong. But Ana didn’t want to get into old crap. “How long before you have to leave today?”
“Couple hours.”
Smiling, she asked, “How do you feel about paddleboarding?”
Ethan hit her with an inquisitive stare, then seemed to make a decision and leaned in. “Does it involve you in a bikini?”
He’d never seen her in one, had he? “One way to find out. We’ll stop by the resort shops and buy you a pair of boardshorts.”
He leaned closer, his face inches from hers. “I want to see your bikini.”
Her mouth dried. He was so close she could see the faint scar beneath his left cheekbone. His hand covered hers, his thumb stroking her wrist. His touch ignited the warm desire already pooling in her stomach.
This was her chance to experience Ethan. To indulge her fantasies of the one man she wanted.
Short term. This fantasy had an expiration date, and then she’d be alone again.
* * *
Ana was taunting him as they took their paddleboards around the Gulf. Her hair blew around her shoulders and face, and her skin glowed from the sun and lotion she’d spread all over to prevent a burn. Her sapphire-blue bikini top formed enticing triangles over her breasts, then bared more skin down her belly to her tiny boardshorts. Long, lithe legs braced apart to balance on the board as she paddled near the shore.
He really needed to think about something else besides how hot Ana was. “How’s your stepmom?”
Ana smiled. “Linda’s good. She turned forty this year. To celebrate, she and her sister are in Italy. It’s a special trip for her. Honestly I think it’s the first time she’s truly enjoyed herself since my dad died.”
Her dad’s unexpected death had been hard on her. “How are you doing?”
She glanced over. “I miss him, but it’s tougher on Linda. I had moved out, had my own life, and getting back to my routine helped. But Linda…well it took a while. Anyway, she’s loving Italy.” Her smile was sad. “Dad would be happy to see her living again.”
She meant that. Cared that much about her stepmom. He’d asked her about their closeness after her dad’s funeral. She’d said that Linda saved her when she was a teenager, but hadn’t explained. He debated asking n
ow, but let it go and instead said, “The band played a couple concerts in Italy. Beautiful country, and the food is incredible. Of course we went to Taste of Siena too. If your stepmother is in the Tuscany area, she should try it.” He couldn’t help but add, “I was invited to cook with Siena there.”
“What was that like?”
“Amazing. She’s bigger than life in the kitchen, a lot like you see on TV. Passionate, charismatic and very sensual. We both have the same love for food, for creating an experience that feeds more than just the stomach.” How could he tell this girl what it was like to feel empty and unloved, and then discover that feeding yourself and others filled a void? “Creating a meal is an expression. Like fighting or sex. When a mother loves a child, she feeds him. When a man romances a woman, he feeds her. At every major celebration, food is central. Being in Italy, cooking in her kitchen, it felt…like home.” He clamped his mouth shut. What was he doing going off on a tangent about his obsession with food or what it meant to him?
Her silence stretched before she turned and gave him a brittle smile. “I’m happy for you. You’re going to be famous, and you’re doing what you love.”
Yet her strained smile didn’t match her warm words. What was going on with her? “I’ll stop talking about cooking. I’m boring you.”
“No, don’t stop.” Her smile grew into a real one. “I want to hear it. I guess I’m a little jealous.”
“Of what? You said you love your job.”
She nodded. “It’s silly, but some of my favorite memories are all the times you used to cook in my kitchen. Now you have these amazing experiences that trump those. In a few years, you won’t even remember me at all. I’ll be that girl claiming that I used to know you and you cooked in my kitchen and everyone will roll their eyes and beg me to stop talking about it.”
The memories assaulted him. He’d show up with groceries, Ana would dig through the bags, excited to figure out what he was going to try making. She never shied away from tasting. Or if he forgot an ingredient, she’d run to the store, sometimes several stores.
Savaged Surrender: A Novella Page 4
