by KB Winters
Hot. Damn. Ethan dressed in jeans and a t-shirt was scorching hot. Ethan wearing half a wet suit was devastating. Broad shoulders, strong and square tapered down to a sculpted chest and narrow waist, made even more gorgeous by this six, no eight pack that stopped at the waist. He carried himself with confidence, like a man assured of his place in the world. I waved, taking in his long languid strides and the cloak of unease he wore.
I waved him in, looking over my shoulder to see the perfect wave coming in. The perfect moment came and I pushed up onto my feet, core tight and knees slightly bent and felt the spray of the wave on my skin. It didn’t last long but damn it felt good. When I got my bearings and hopped back on my board, Ethan hadn’t made it far. “Good morning. How’s it going?”
“How’s it going?” He glowered at me. Until that moment I could have said that no one had ever glowered at me. “It’s six in the morning, how do you think it’s going?”
I shrugged, not put off by his grumpy ass. “Well I’m doing great and I’ve already been here for an hour.” I flashed him a satisfied smile and I knew it was because it’s the smile I wore every morning I made it into the water. “Do you plan to be grumpy all morning or do you want to learn how to surf?”
He frowned. “I’m not grumpy. And it isn’t even technically morning yet.” Arms crossed as he straddled the board he made a gorgeous sight, even if he was grumpy as hell.
“The sun is up, it’s morning.”
“You stayed up about nine seconds out there,” he said instead, outright questioning my skills.
“The wave was small, but if you think you can stay up for longer without my help, let’s paddle out.”
“Fine.”
I kept my mouth shut, knowing he’d need to try and fail on his own before admitting he needed help. Proud and strong. But I knew his perfectionist tendencies would finally get him to ask for help. “Did you sleep all right?”
He shrugged, eyes off in the distance as he paddled forward. “Okay I guess. Restless.” I saw that determined glint in his eyes and I knew he’d attempt this wave so I hung back and watched. I would’ve been better off looking directly at the sun, it would have been safer because the sight of Ethan from the back was splendid. Muscles rippled, actually rippled, as he leaned forward to assume the position that would allow him to stand. Miles of smooth brown skin shone under the morning sun and I tipped off my own board just to douse my sexy thoughts.
“I know what I did wrong.” He looked at me over his shoulder, probably expecting some advice or a smart-ass comment.
“Okay.”
He went for it again, showing me a glimpse of the determined man who’d left a lucrative modeling career to build an empire. His form was solid but he needed to work on the basics or he’d spend more of his time in the water rather than on it. When he made it back onto his board, Ethan flashed a sheepish grin and lifted his shoulders. “Maybe I could use a few pointers.”
Despite his whole man of the universe thing, he took direction well and fifteen minutes later we were back on the boards in the water. “Don’t be afraid to say the steps aloud if you need to,” I told him but he nodded absently, already focused on the incoming wave.
He hopped up and stayed on for about five seconds. Not great, but a solid effort for his first time. “Maybe next time.”
“You did good. Time will take care of the rest.” He looked so much like a little boy seeking approval that I was struck speechless for a moment. And for the first time I thought maybe I’d gotten a glimpse of the part of him he tried to hide from the rest of the world.
From there, the morning had been a success, at least from my perspective. We stayed close as surf traffic grew more and more congested, taking every other wave. Ethan was a good sport about surfing. By the time we were back on the sand I think he was a little in love with it too. “So, what’s next?”
I heard him, but removing my wetsuit without losing my bikini took every bit of concentration so I focused on that and then turned to him, and smirked at how hard he tried not to look at my body, specifically my breasts. Even though I was used to it, I appreciated his effort since most men stared blatantly and even went so far as to comment on my assets. As long as he looked at my face when he spoke and didn’t touch me, we were good. But the heat in his gaze had my body heating quickly against the Pacific chill and I averted my gaze. “What would you like to do?” He glared at me but I crossed my arms and glared back. It was important that he contribute to our time together. “You can’t just get through this Ethan, you have to participate or it won’t work.”
His blue eyes landed on me in a way I guessed was supposed to be intimidating, but instead highlighted the sharp edges of his cheekbones. “Seriously?”
Hands fisted on my hips. I nodded to show him I meant business.
“I would like to get back to work, but that’s off the table so what is this supposed to be?”
My jaws were clenched so tight I knew I’d need every ounce of patience I could muster to deal with this petulant version of him. “This is supposed to be me helping you, if you want it. Now if you don’t have a preference, I do. Get changed and meet me up by my car.” I yanked up my wetsuit and my board, and climbed the small sandy incline up to my car, parked in a regular spot for once since I’d gotten here so early.
“Hey, what about the other board?”
“Bring it up,” I yelled back, and opened the passenger door on my Escalade. I knew it wasn’t environmentally friendly and all that crap but I loved my car. It was gigantic, way too big for me and ate gas like crazy, but it had room for everything. Surfing, kayaking, picnics, hiking and of course, road trips. Plus, it was perfect for changing clothes after a morning spent surfing. It was kind of a balancing act and I preferred to get my bottoms off first and slip on a skirt and then my top. When Ethan finally found me, it was the moment after my skirt was on but before I had my shirt on.
“Where do you want…this?” His gaze took in my boobs spilling over my hands, tongue streaking across his bottom lip, then his top as his gaze darkened to night. He stared and his breathing got shallow before he realized where he was, or who I was. “Sorry. The board? Where should I put it?”
“You can just rest it against the back and I’ll strap it to the top.”
“I can do it,” he insisted in a very alpha way.
“How do you think I got them here and down to the beach before you got here?” I got tired of waiting for him to turn away so I grabbed the tank and slid it over my head and judging by the hiss he let out, he’d gotten more than an eyeful.
He grinned when I settled the shirt over my body. “I’d like to think you found some other big strapping man to lug them down for you.”
“You’d love that,” I told him and ducked under his arm on my way to the back of my car. Okay so it did take a few minutes to get one board all the way on top of the car and strapped in. The second took a little longer and I struggled when I felt two large hands grip my waist, lift me in the air and set me on the ground. “Hey!”
“Okay, step aside short stuff, I’ve got it.”
“Fine big man, I’m going to moisturize.” His deep laugh sounded as I slathered cocoa butter onto my legs and arms. Surfing and sand weren’t always kind to a girl’s skin which made moisturizer my best friend.
“Get in, I’m driving,” he said, startling me out of even more inappropriate thoughts.
“I don’t think so. We can take your car if you want, but I’m driving.” Why men had such a weird thing about letting a woman drive them around, I’d never know. “You might be a terrible driver,” I countered.
He shrugged and caught the keys I tossed at him. “Then we’ll have another thing for you to fix.”
“Smart ass,” I mumbled and hopped up into the passenger seat, watching with glee as he tried to maneuver his big body into my seat settings so he could fix them.
***
Ethan had done everything in his power to avoid talking and despite that,
our first week together had passed with success. He seemed to loosen up when we were out together but whenever things were calm and quiet, he’d pick a fight with me. This week though, I told him to meet me at a small café in Hollywood. The Gilded Pig was posh by anyone’s standards, but at this time of day it was busy enough for pricey sandwiches to come easily and talking to come hard. Very hard.
If my guess was correct, Sam Stevens’ question had hit a sore spot and then memories had assaulted him as he sat there in that big white chair. His need to maintain composure had warred with the memories until the memories had won out. Today, I just wanted to see how he’d handle being out of his comfort zone.
“You couldn’t have chosen a more crowded place? Or at least a healthier one?” He stood at the table glaring down at me.
“I could have, but what would be the point?” I loved food, all kinds of food, at all times. People like Ethan confused me, worrying so much about what they ate and how much they slept. Healthy people got the same shit illnesses as everyone else. Including my mom. “Sit or stand and scowl, I like them both.” I smiled up at him and then turned back to the chalkboard menu on the table.
He chose to scowl until it became clear I wouldn’t be moved by his anger. Or his attempts at intimidation. “You’re stubborn, has anyone ever told you that?”
“Only always.” It was how I got people to listen to me. Being short and young were already two strikes against me and I found that bossing people around was the fastest way to get them to do the right thing without arguing about it. “Just look at the menu Ethan. I’m sure you can find something for your exalted tastes.”
He frowned at the taunt. “It’s not about my wealth Misha. It’s my health. Most of our food is filled with dyes, chemicals and hormones and I like to know what I’m putting into my body.”
“So you’re a vegan?”
He blinked, confused. “No.”
“Oh, because that’s the only real way to limit what hormones and dyes and chemicals you put in your body. I mean you never know what was planted before the grass that feeds those organic cattle and free roaming buffalo, but hey as long as you know where your line is—that’s what matters.” I didn’t normally do sarcasm with clients, well not often, but Ethan all flustered made it worth it.
“You’re a smart ass, you know that don’t you?”
“I do.”
“Fine.” He grumbled and finally looked at the menu while I hid my own smile from him. He wasn’t an easy man to beat, but he’d learn very soon that I was good at my job. Our sandwiches came, a thick creamy Rueben for me and a turkey breast with alfalfa sprouts for him. After all the calories expended surfing we ate in silence until our sandwiches were half gone. “Are you happy with the direction of your second career?”
“What?” I arched a brow rather than repeat the question. “Fine, yes I am happy. Of course, I am. I guess.”
He sounded about as certain as a slinky. “What are your favorite parts about it?”
“That’s easy. Research and design. How did you get started with this type of work?” The question was gruff and reluctant but it was a start.
“I kind of fell into it. With my psych specialty, I did my master’s thesis on performance psychology of athletes. Then I began studying soldiers and other performers and it kind of snowballed from there.” He grinned, looking completely focused on my words. “What’s so great about R&D?”
“Testing new products, seeing how each new ingredient enhances a product. Retesting until you get it just right.” His face lit up as he talked about the scientific parts of his job. “Have you ever been unable to help a client?”
I nodded. “Once,” and I hated talking about it but he deserved to know. “They weren’t ready to make certain changes and those changes were necessary for the rest to work. We spent a month together before I called it off and sent them off to recuperate.” A common euphemism in my world for rehab. “How did you enjoy your modeling career?”
He shrugged but his body went tense at the mention of it. “The money was great and I got to see a lot of the world, some of the most beautiful places I have yet to return to. But I didn’t like most of my coworkers, most of whom would have gladly stuck a knife in my back to further their career. It just got old.”
I doubted that was all that happened but that was progress. “Want dessert?”
“Do you know how much sugar—”
I cut off his words with a slice through the air. “A simple yes or no will do.”
“No.” He frowned, unhappy that I’d stopped another lecture.
“Great.” I flagged down a server and asked for a lava cake, one of my favorite things to eat. “So, do you eat anything sweet other than your smoothies?”
“Oh, I eat plenty of sweet stuff,” he offered up in a low, sexy voice.
“Not in the past four months,” I countered.
He glared at me and I stared back. Seconds later we were both laughing so hard tears streamed down our faces.
Four
Ethan
“Why exactly are we turning my kitchen into a war zone?” And that wasn’t an understatement. There were vegetables piled at one end of the counter and flour, eggs, meat and hard cheeses at the other end. It looked like a gourmet market had thrown up all over my blue granite countertops.
“Because we are cooking real food with raw ingredients. And talking.”
I groaned because I knew my luck couldn’t possibly hold forever but I had hope. “So soon?”
“It’s been nearly two weeks Ethan. You’re more stubborn than I thought, I’ll give you credit for that.” She had a smudge of flour on her cheek from her first failed attempt at making pasta. It had gone terribly wrong, but she was so funny with her sweetly spoken curse words and nonstop laughter, taking everything in stride. “So, we’ll talk. About any and everything while we cook. And eat,” she giggled a little as she said it. I swear no woman I ever met took as much pleasure in eating at this one. “Do this and I’ll give you the whole weekend to yourself.”
That didn’t sound as appealing as it should have, dammit. We were only two weeks in and I liked spending time with her, which made me wonder even more if she was running some sort of scam. “So, what are we making other than pasta?”
“Lobster filling for the ravioli and a creamy Parm sauce. Salad and roast chicken. Oh, and I brought cheesecake from a really great bakery.” She smiled bright and I swear to god it made her eyes sparkle—no, glitter. They glittered like emeralds. So fucking distracting I hardly noticed the dress she wore. White and see through enough I could tell she wore very little underneath. It was floor length as most of her skirts and dresses were, but it hugged her curves like a lover and my hands itched to touch her.
“So what you’re saying is prepare myself for a lot of talking?”
She laughed and the sound was sweet and full of good humor, not practiced or fake. “Don’t sound so put out about it, I promise it will be mostly pain free.”
“Yeah?” She nodded but I didn’t believe her. This was why I didn’t go to shrinks, they made you do all the talking while they sat there. Judging. “Then tell me about you. Where are you from and what’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done? Do you have siblings? What do you do in between clients?”
She didn’t seem to be put out by my questions or their grumpy tone as she broke apart lobster shells and I thought maybe she’d ignore my questions. Then she sighed and I smiled in victory. “I’m from Champaign, Illinois where my dad is a professor of U of I. The most embarrassing thing I have ever done, would have to be running and screaming from a threesome at two in the morning. I am an only child and when I’m not with a client, I travel, go on adventures or whatever else strikes my fancy.” With all the lobster in a bowl she began chopping bits of this and that before she turned to me. “Good?”
“Uh, yeah.” I went back to chopping vegetables, feeling a little less wary about talking. “Pretty good, yeah.” I waited for her to ask h
er question but she didn’t. The silence stretched for so damn long I thought maybe she’d forgotten that we were supposed to be talking. Finally, I gave in. “You’ve met Jax but there’s also Roc, he’s the oldest.”
Green eyes rounded in surprise. “You’re the small one in the family? You Mahoney boys grow big, don’t you?” She laughed and another flash of surprise showed in her eyes but she wasn’t at all apologetic, at least not judging by her defiant grin. “Man, your mom must have had her hands full with you three.”
I swallowed, ignoring the tightness in my chest that always came when I thought about my parents. “I was four when she died.” I didn’t remember as much as Jax and Roc but I missed her as if I’d known her for decades.
Misha’s gasp was so real I knew she hadn’t done any research on me or my family online, because no article or video ever forgot to mention it. “I’m so sorry Ethan. I lost my mom when I was twelve.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep. It’s been me and my dad ever since. I finally convinced him to start dating about six months ago,” she smiled and rolled her eyes affectionately that spoke of their close bond. “He was so awkward and uncomfortable with online dating but damn, he was so adorable. Then there was this incident of a sexual nature and I thought he might give it up forever, which is weird considering he is a world-famous expert on human sexuality.” She turned her green gaze on me, piercing and intense. “But you know what? As soon as word got around on campus that he was dating again, he had more offers than he knew what to do with. And, he’s been dating two of them. Exclusively, whatever that means,” she rolled her eyes again.
“Thank you,” I told her because what the hell else could I say after all that. Misha knew how to share, how to give pieces of herself to others. I didn’t. “Both of my parents died at the same time, same crash. Our Uncle Noah raised us.”
She snapped her fingers and grinned. “Is that the old dude you’re always photographed with? Kind of a silver fox?”
