by Goode, A. J.
He cleared his throat and sat back in his chair before continuing. “I want to make it perfectly clear that I am not instructing you to lie if anyone asks you directly. I am not asking you to lie to me, either. To all outward appearances, you seem to be very happy together, and that’s enough for me. Oh, and Tara? Did you give Jacqueline signed permission to access your financial records?”
“Of course not!”
“Excellent.”
“What’s so excellent about it?”
“It’s excellent because Jacqueline should not have been able to access that information without your permission,” Ben explained. “This may give us some leverage in getting her to back down.”
“Jacqueline never backs down,” Ethan warned him.
After their meeting with the attorney, they made a few stops in town before heading back to the Seashell. Ethan tried to think about anything other than the woman on the seat beside him, but every glance her way brought to mind images of the previous night.
“Hello?” Tara touched his arm, and the thoughts that raced through his brain nearly sent them into a ditch. “You seem kind of distant, Ethan.”
“Just thinking about things.”
“’Things’?”
“Things. You know. Jacqueline. The house. Last night.”
“Ah.” She folded her hands neatly in her lap and looked out the window. “You regret it.”
“What? No! I just—“
“It’s all right. I get it. It was Pity Sex.”
“I’m not—“
“Ethan. Stop.” Her voice was cold, her words crisp and brittle. “I never asked you for a commitment, did I? We agreed to do whatever it takes to keep the house, and I guess that includes sleeping together. Whatever it takes. Right?”
Whatever it takes.
Ethan was silent as he pulled into their driveway.
“We have company,” Tara said suddenly. He followed her pointing finger and saw his ex-wife seated in one of the rocking chairs. He swore under his breath.
Tara touched his arm again, but didn’t meet his gaze. “Showtime,” she murmured.
He helped her out of the Expedition and followed her up the walk. Jacqueline smiled up at them.
“I had forgotten how nice it is to sit here and watch the waves,” she told them. “Just imagine what summer tourists would pay to have a view like this for a week!”
“What are you doing here, Jack?” Ethan had very little patience for her on the best of days, and this definitely didn’t qualify as one of the best. It didn’t help that Tara was clinging to his arm and gazing up at him with an expression of adoration on her face.
Jacqueline obviously didn’t like it, either. She scowled at Tara for a brief second, and then her face smoothed back into its usual emotionless mask. “Oh, I see,” she crooned. “So you two are really going to go ahead with this farce? Ethan, anyone who knows you would agree that she’s really not your type.”
“Oh, really? And just what is my type?”
“You’ve always preferred strong, independent women, not delicate little flowers,” Jacqueline said, wrinkling her nose in distaste as she looked Tara up and down.
“Maybe my tastes have changed. Maybe spending all those years with you made me want someone a little more genuine, a little warmer.”
“The only thing genuine about her is her money-grubbing little hands that she’s got sunk into your wallet,” Jacqueline said, laughing. “If you weren’t her means to a million-dollar beach house, do you really think she’d be interested in you?”
Tara flinched, but said nothing. Ethan pulled her close and locked eyes with her. “That’s enough, Jack,” he said firmly, never looking away from Tara’s tear-filled eyes. “It’s time for you to get off my property. That’s right. My property. Go home. Go to work. Go to Hell for all I care. Just leave.”
“This isn’t over, Ethan.”
“It was over the day I signed the divorce papers. Go.” He guided Tara up the steps and past his seething ex-wife, slamming the door behind them as soon as they were inside.
“Thanks for that,” Tara told him, her voice shaking.
“Hey, ‘whatever it takes’, right?” He hated himself the moment he said it. Tara didn’t deserve his scorn; that had been aimed at his ex-wife, not her. He wanted to pull her close and comfort her, assure her that he didn’t believe Jacqueline’s accusations.
But he didn’t stop her. He let her walk away, down the hall and into her bedroom.
He didn’t know what to believe. Sometimes she seemed so vulnerable, so much in need of a little bit of kindness. Others, she seemed as icy and determined as Jacqueline, especially in the way she had transformed so easily into her ‘I’m-in-love-with-Ethan’ act out on the porch. How much of her behavior the previous night had been part of a similar act?
Chapter Twelve
They heard nothing more from Jacqueline all week, which made Tara wonder what the other woman was up to. Meanwhile, the mood between her and Ethan remained distant and cool; it was as if Monday night’s passion had never happened. They were polite to each other. Polite strangers who shared a home and nothing more.
Tara busied herself with Bea’s collection of steamy paperbacks, getting lost in the tales of happy endings and love that triumphed over all troubles. Ethan spent several hours at the school, readying his classroom for back-to-school. They stayed out of each other’s way without actually avoiding each other. By Friday, Tara was so fed up with the polite distance between them that she was ready to scream.
They were going to a high school football game together that night. It was just a scrimmage before the actual season kickoff the following week, but Ethan explained to her that it was a good chance for the community to get together and show support for the kids. He told her that it was also a tradition for some of the teachers to get together afterwards.
“It’s a great chance for us to be seen as a couple,” he told her. “And some of my co-workers are curious about you.”
“You told your co-workers about me?”
“Well, yeah. It’s a small town, Tara. And we weren’t exactly discreet at the fair. Most of them had already heard about you.”
She winced, wondering just exactly what they had heard.
He didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he held out a small gift bag. “I got you something,” he said shyly.
The bag held a red and white t-shirt emblazoned with the high school logo. She held it up and gave him a questioning look.
“I thought you might want to show some school spirit, since you’re dating a teacher,” he explained. “I’m wearing a shirt just like it.”
“So we’re going to be that couple – the couple that dresses alike?” She laughed aloud as his face reddened. “That’s sweet, Ethan. I always wanted to be one of those couples!”
“Me, too.” He sounded relieved and embarrassed at the same time.
The heat wave and humidity had broken with Monday night’s storm, so she decided to wear jeans with the school t-shirt. She already knew some of the teachers; as Ethan had pointed out, Beach Haven was a small town, and she had been a busy cosmetologist at a popular salon. Some of his co-workers had been her clients, and she suddenly realized that she was nervous about them seeing her in her current condition. She didn’t think she could handle their pity.
As it turned out, she needn’t have worried. Ethan’s co-workers greeted her warmly, and the ones she recognized from the salon seemed happy to see her recovering so well. Afterward, she would never remember who won the game; after nearly three months of isolation, she drank in the energy and excitement of the crowd around her and enjoyed herself so much that she paid little attention to the game itself.
They ended up sitting with another couple, whom Ethan introduced as teachers in Science and Math. Tara wasn’t sure which one taught which subject, and she was a little shaky on their first names, but they seemed ready to welcome her into their circle.
“How did you and Ethan meet
?” the woman asked, as the first half drew to a close.
Melissa, Tara reminded herself. “His grandmother was my client for a lot of years,” she said, looking at Ethan for help. They hadn’t planned out an answer for that question.
He leaned around Tara and told Melissa, “Grandma was a shameless old matchmaker. She tried everything to get us to meet.”
Well, that was true. He winked.
Melissa looked from Ethan to Tara and linked her arm through Tara’s. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go get some popcorn.”
Ethan didn’t seem to notice Tara’s beseeching gaze, so she had no choice but to follow the other woman. Melissa kept a friendly grip on her arm, guiding her through the half-time crowd until they reached a sheltered area beside the concession stand.
“So,” she began. “What’s the real story?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve known Ethan for a long time. My husband and I helped him get through his divorce, and he told us everything. In fact, we just got together to play golf last week. And he never mentioned you.”
“We—well, we—um.”
“That’s what I thought.” Melissa stood back, arms crossed over her chest, and studied Tara for a moment. Finally, she nodded, apparently satisfied. “Okay, I won’t ask any more questions,” she decided. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”
“Melissa, we—“
Melissa linked her arm through Tara’s again. “You know,” she said; “Jacqueline never came to football games with him. Or school carnivals, or fundraisers, or any events that were important to him. I only met her a few times, and she had her nose so high in the air that she couldn’t look down long enough to notice me. Whatever is going on between you and Ethan, I already like you better than I liked her. I think you’re good for him.”
“He’s been good for me, too,” Tara said slowly. It was true. No matter how hurt and angry she had been this past week, she had to admit that she felt more alive than she had felt at any point during the past three months. Being around Ethan was like waking up from a long, sad dream.
Melissa squeezed her arm in a half-hug. “Want to know something else?” She asked. She looked around furtively and leaned in close. “I hate football. I’m only here for the popcorn.”
“I’m a cheesy-pretzel kind of gal myself.”
They were still giggling when they returned to their seats. Ethan gave her a questioning look, which she ignored. Melissa’s husband shook his head in disgust.
“I see how it is,” he grumbled. “They go get all kinds of junk food for themselves, but do they bring back anything for the hard-working men in their lives? Ethan, you and I are just going to waste away to nothing while these two stuff their faces.”
“That’s okay, Dan. We just won’t share our French fries with them later.”
It felt good to laugh and just have fun with another couple. Tara had missed the social interaction during her long recovery, but even before that she and Randy always seemed to go out with his friends rather than their friends. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so welcome and comfortable within a group of people.
The sense of camaraderie continued after the game as they followed each other out to a tiny restaurant just outside of town. “It’s small and off the beaten path, but they have the best burgers and fries in town,” Ethan explained, holding out her chair for her. “The burgers are so huge that the menu offers the option of buying just a half-burger.”
Tara opened her mouth to explain that she had been there before, but she was interrupted by a whoop as their waitress swooped in for a suffocating hug.
“Tara!” the girl shrieked. “Just look at my hair! Just look what Jeffrey did to me. When are you ever going back to work? I need your magic touch.”
“Thank you, Lacey.” Tara carefully disentangled herself. “I think your hair looks fantastic. Jeffrey is the best there is – I love your new color.”
“But when are you coming back?”
“I’m not sure,” Tara said. She felt her face grow warm as Ethan’s friends turned to look at her.
“Jeffrey said you wrecked your car,” the girl went on, unaware of the discomfort she was causing. “He said that tree fell right on it. I was like, ‘no way’, but then I saw it on the news, and oh, wow, your poor little Mustang!”
“Could we get something to drink while we look at our menus?” Ethan interrupted.
Lacey looked startled, but quickly recovered her wits and scribbled down their drink orders. When she had scampered away, an uncomfortable silence hung over the table. Tara squirmed for a moment, and Ethan reached under the table to give her hand a squeeze.
Drawing strength from his support, she turned to face his friends. She was done being embarrassed about it. Done avoiding it. She was never going to be able to move on from it if she kept hiding away from everything that had happened that night.
“Well,” she announced, wearing her best tragic face. “I guess my secret is out, isn’t it? I should have come out with it right away. It’s true: I drove a Ford.”
“Hey! There’s nothing wrong with Fords,” Ethan protested. “I drive a Ford.”
“That’s okay, we like you anyway,” Melissa giggled.
When the laughter died away and they had all placed their orders, the conversation turned to other subjects that had nothing to do with her accident or her injuries.
So this is what it feels like to be normal, she thought.
* * *
Ethan watched her closely, waiting for any signs of tears. She usually seemed rattled by any mention of her accident, but she was taking it in stride tonight. He wondered if it was some kind of act for his friends, or if she really was finally starting to leave the horrors of that night behind her.
He liked the way she chatted and laughed with his friends. There was a brightness to her smile tonight that he had never seen before, a vivacious energy that made her green eyes sparkle. After a week of sitting in the sun on the back patio avoiding him, her skin had lost its unnatural pallor, and he wondered how he had ever thought she was anything less than beautiful.
He wanted to take her in his arms right here, right now. Fling her back on the table and have his way with her right here amidst the ketchup bottles and salt and pepper shakers. He remembered the little noises she had made when he kissed her, and her throaty cries of passion. He wanted to touch that little spot in the small of her back that made her quiver; he wanted to smell her rose-scented perfume and taste the sweetness of her skin on his tongue.
“—isn’t that right, Ethan?”
He blinked. Tara was looking at him expectantly, waiting for an answer to some question that he had not heard.
“Dan asked if you plan on selling the Seashell,” she told him. “I told him you plan on keeping it. Isn’t that right?”
“Absolutely. That whole front row is going to be turned into Tourist Row if we’re not careful. We need to keep some of the old homes as private residences, and fight off the developers.”
“This town needs the tourist dollars, Ethan,” Dan said. “Local businesses need every penny they can get during those three or four months.”
“I know that,” Ethan told him, tearing his thoughts way from Tara. “I miss the old days, the way it was when we were growing up here. The tourists stayed in the cottages and hotels along South Beach, and the townies stayed on the North Beach. Now, they’ve built condos all up and down the North Side and bought up half of the cottages too. It’s becoming their town, and we’re just here to serve them, wait on them.”
“Does it have to be ‘us’ and ‘them’?” Tara wondered.
“I don’t know any other way it can be,” Melissa said. “When half the homes along the North Beach stand empty for most of the years because the summer renters have gone back to Illinois or wherever, it’s an open invitation for break-ins and squatters. And when the tourists are here, the treat our town like it’s one big MTV party. At least the loc
als have a little bit of respect for the town and the people in it.”
“People who would go broke without the tourist dollars,” Dan reminded her. “You know, Ethan, your ex was pretty interested in selling the Seashell.”
“Don’t remind me! She nagged and nagged at Grandma while we were married, and then forced a friendship with her in hopes of being in the will. That’s why –“ He stopped, horrified at what he had come so close to blurting out.
“What about you, Tara?” Melissa jumped in. “How do you feel about the Seashell?”
“Why, I love it,” Tara sighed. “It’s home.”
Ethan did a quick double-take. There was a dreamy, faraway look in her eyes and a contented smile on her lips that couldn’t possibly be an act. She thought of the Seashell as her home, every bit as much as he did.
He wasn’t sure what it was about that realization that made him feel so ridiculously happy.
Chapter Thirteen
Ethan was surprised – and a little disappointed – when Tara disappeared into her bedroom as soon as they returned from the restaurant. Then he scolded himself. Did you really think she’d jump right back into your bed just because we had a good time tonight? Face it, Davis; the other night was a one-time thing. There is just no way this roommates-only arrangement is going to work if you don’t keep your hands to yourself.
With a sigh, he sat on the couch and turned the TV to the local news. Might as well see if anything interesting was taking place in town. Whatever might be happening, it was bound to be more interesting than what was happening here in his own home.
He soon became so absorbed in the sports report that he didn’t hear Tara’s door open, or the sound of her bare feet on the hardwood floor. He thought he was still alone until she spoke softly from close behind him.
