by Donna Alward
Willow grinned, playing along. “Longer, if she breastfeeds.”
Cait and Claire gave Laurel a hug. Willow was starting to really notice the differences between the twins, though they were faint. Their hair was just a little bit different, and they dressed a bit differently. Claire was more conservative, but not much. A slightly more professional appearance, in keeping with her summer job at the town office.
“This means we can go shopping for baby stuff!” Claire exclaimed. “Oh, I hope it’s a girl this time.”
“If it’s a boy, there’s lots of baby stuff at the house. I won’t need it anymore. You’re welcome to the gender neutral stuff anyway.” Ethan had been standing behind, but he stepped forward now, with a handshake for Aiden and a hug for Laurel.
Willow looked up at him, her heart softening. It had to be hard for him to say that. But she hoped that it wasn’t true. He was still young. He could remarry, have more children. She imagined Connor and Ronan with a little sister. They’d spoil her rotten, and defend her against any bullies who dared hurt her.
“Thanks, bro,” Aiden said quietly.
“Yes, Ethan. Thank you.”
The moment got a bit awkward, so Moira jumped in with questions about pregnancy and due dates. The chatter continued, but then Willow noticed Ethan backing away from the gathering, his face somber.
So the offer had cost him. She wasn’t surprised.
She snuck off, too, following him around the corner of the house to the side bordered with Moira’s rosebushes.
“Ethan, wait.”
He spun around, a look of surprise momentarily blanking his face. His lips dropped open and she glimpsed a bit of embarrassment in his features.
“I’m fine, Willow. Go back to the party.” He started walking away again.
“You’re not fine. I saw your face.” She hurried to catch up to him, the hem of her dress brushing against her ankles. “Ethan.”
She put his hand on his cast, but it was enough to stop him. They were at the corner of the front porch now, with the rosebushes on their left and the latticework at Ethan’s back.
“Willow…”
“I’m sorry. It must have brought a lot of memories up for you.”
“They deserve to be happy. I don’t begrudge them that.”
“Of course you don’t. But it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”
His jaw ticked as the muscle there tightened. “I just … we’d talked about having more kids. And the boys need a mother, and … Goddammit.”
She didn’t think, she just acted. She stepped forward, and put her ear against his chest and her arms around his waist. He was broad and strong and smelled like fabric softener and masculine-scented soap, a heady combination.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving you a hug. I don’t think anyone’s given you a hug in a very long time.”
He chuckled just a bit, one soft, hitching movement of his chest, but it warmed her heart. “Did you know that a twenty-second hug releases oxytocin, which relieves stress and anxiety?” she asked.
His un-casted arm came around her, resting along her lower back. “Exactly twenty seconds?” he asked softly.
“Give or take,” she murmured against his shirt. “How’re you feeling now?”
“Willow…”
Oh my. He’d never said her name in quite that way before. She bit down on her lip and closed her eyes. “Maybe just a few more seconds,” she suggested. “Cheapest therapy in town.”
“I don’t need therapy,” he replied, his voice strong again.
She backed away just a little, but her arms were still partway around him, resting on his hips. His eyes were so intense she started to lose herself in them. “What do you need?” she asked, her pulse beating so fast she could hear it in her ears.
“This.”
He tightened the arm at her waist, drawing her flush against his body, then dropped his mouth to hers. He kissed just as she’d imagined, only better. Commanding, but not forceful. Deliberate, but with a seductiveness that was as fragile as a question. She closed her eyes and held on, gripping the fabric of his shirt as she met him equally. Oh Lord … she wasn’t sure she could feel her legs anymore. It was all his lips, the soft, full feel of them on her mouth, the rasp of his whiskers as they grazed her chin, the feel of his hard body pressed against hers. The body of a man who ran into burning buildings, who wrestled with his children, who strode into her café with a singular purpose and made her heart sing.
She was in so much trouble.
The kiss tempered, slowed, until he pulled away, a little regretfully, she thought. Her breath came in short bursts, the cool evening air doing nothing to chill the desire rushing through her. The very sensation scared the hell out of her; made her feel incredibly vulnerable and needy. Two things she never really wanted to feel again.
“Hell.” Ethan stepped back, stopping when his back hit the edge of the porch. “Willow, I … I … damn it.”
Willow just stared at him. She didn’t know what to say. On one hand, she wanted to see where this led; she was that turned on and caught up in the passion of the moment. He was an extraordinary kisser. Her head still swam with the taste of him. On the other hand, neither of them was the sort to jump into bed without any thought to the consequences. They were both too broken and neither of them wanted to be broken further. They didn’t need to bare their souls to understand that much.
“Ethan,” she finally whispered, and touched her fingers to her lips.
“Don’t do that,” he ordered, his brow wrinkling. “Just don’t.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” His gaze locked on hers. “I should apologize. I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“I started it. I hugged you.”
And it had felt so good. It all had.
“Ethan…” She stepped forward, tilting her head up to look at him. “It was just a kiss. And I liked it. I like you, Ethan. Can’t we just leave it as simple as that?”
“Maybe. Except I’m not simple. And the boys…”
“You’re more than a father, Ethan. You’re a man, too. But you’ve been dealing with so much on your own, and focusing so much on the kids, that you’ve probably forgotten. And I’m…” She swallowed against the lump in her throat. “I’m a woman. We’re two consenting adults and it was just a kiss.”
Just a kiss. Understatement of the century.
He stared at her for a long moment. “Well,” he said quietly, “I have to admit, I’ve had a hard time figuring you out. But I never took you for a liar.”
Her insides trembled. “I don’t think either of us is ready for the truth. So let’s call it a kiss and let it go. It would probably be for the best.”
“Right.”
“You’re really not my type anyway,” she insisted. “I’m a little too weird for you, and you’re too conventional for me.” For someone who wasn’t a liar, she felt as if she were doing a fantastic job at it. Right now the pulse hammering at her wrist and neck said that Ethan was exactly her type.
“Right. Conventional.” His jaw ticked again.
She backed away, suddenly very afraid of what this all meant. Her sandal caught on her hem and she stumbled, then righted herself as heat rushed into her face.
All the lessons she’d learned had been for nothing. Here she was again, scared, vulnerable, not in charge. Ethan didn’t even know the power he possessed. No one, not in all the years since she’d started therapy, had gotten past her barriers. Not until now. It left her feeling naked and afraid.
“I’ve got to go. Tell the boys … tell Laurel … I said goodbye. I have to open the café in the morning and it’s already been a long day.”
“Sure. Whatever you want.” His voice was utterly polite, and it was both a relief and a source of regret.
Then she remembered her bag, tucked in beneath the picnic table. Great. She’d have to make another appearance anyway. She turned
her back on Ethan and inhaled deeply, setting off for the backyard again, pasting on what she hoped was a calm smile.
She grabbed her bag and went immediately to Laurel. “Hey, thanks for inviting me, but I have to go. I’m opening tomorrow and it’s already been a very long day.”
“Of course. Thanks for coming, Wil. It means a lot to us.”
Willow’s eyes stung a bit. “I’m very, very happy for you. You guys are going to be great parents.” She cleared her throat. “Now let me get out of here. I’ll call you soon.”
She probably should have stayed and thanked Moira and John, but Ethan was coming back around the corner of the house and she needed to escape. She headed for the gate, reaching into her bag for her keys as she went.
When she backed out of the driveway, she chanced a look up at the house. No one was watching her leave, and a part of her was disappointed. Another part was relieved. She had to go home, back to her sanctuary. Back to the place she knew she belonged. The home she’d made for herself, filled with all the things that made her whole again and none of the things that unraveled her threads.
CHAPTER 10
Ethan was starting to go crazy staying at home.
He loved his boys; of course he did. He loved doing stuff with them. It was admittedly nice to look after laundry and the house without the added pressure of working shifts. But he was starting to understand why Lisa had liked having a car at home and had joined a mom-and-baby group when both boys had been small. At least with Lisa, he’d come home at night, or in the morning, and they’d managed some time together. Some adult conversation. Lately all that he’d been conversing about was soccer, the Tonka trucks out in the sandbox, and what was to eat at the next meal.
He took the boys to their soccer practice and sat on the rickety bleachers to watch. He’d been there for maybe ten minutes when the seats shifted as a newcomer climbed up his row. Ethan looked up and saw his dad coming over, dressed in his ever-present Levis and the Red Sox hat that had seen better days.
“Dad. How’d you know the boys had practice?”
John settled on the bench next to Ethan. “Took a chance. You didn’t answer the phone, and it’s a Tuesday night. Chances were good you’d be here.”
They watched for a few minutes. Again, the full soccer field was split into two to accommodate the young age groups. Ronan’s group was nothing but chaos, about ten balls going at once in a configuration reminiscent of some sort of drill. Connor’s side was slightly more organized, with a scrimmage in progress. They watched as Connor passed the ball up the field and then ran ahead toward the goal.
“They’re going to be thrilled you came,” Ethan said. “Grampa hung the moon and the stars, if you ask them.”
“They’re good boys. Like you three were. And nearly as busy.” John grinned and rested his elbows on his knees. “How’re you doing with that cast and being off work? Stir-crazy yet?”
Ethan chuckled. “Something like that. I can’t wait to get this stupid thing off. It’s great being with the boys, but…”
“But you miss work. Of course you do. We’re all just glad you’re okay.”
“I didn’t mean to scare anyone. Mom had a bird about it.”
John chuckled. “You’re her golden boy. Of course she did. But we’re both dead proud of what you do, Ethan. And since Lisa…”
His father let the sentence hang unfinished. They both knew what he meant.
“You’re starting to move on,” John remarked quietly. They kept their eyes on the soccer field, but the words settled into Ethan. If he was, it scared him to death. He didn’t know how to move on.
“I don’t know, Pop. I just don’t. She’s gone. At first I didn’t know who I was without her. And now I don’t know who I am without…” He wasn’t sure what word came next. It was a vast, scary world now. When a person stepped out of the dark and into the sun, it took a while for the eyes to adjust.
“Without grief,” John supplied. “I haven’t lost a wife, Ethan, but I’ve lost people I cared about. Deeply. Grief becomes your companion until it, too, leaves you alone. And then you either have to move forward or stay in place.” John looked over at Ethan. “E, I have to tell you. Happiness does not come from staying in place.”
Ethan let out a sigh and watched the boys for a few more moments. His dad didn’t usually say much, but when he did, all the kids knew to shut up and listen. In the past months, John had been strangely silent. Maybe he’d been waiting for the time to be right.
“How do I know when it’s right?”
John chuckled. “Well, damn, E. I don’t have all the answers. But it did seem to me that you were making eyes at Willow Dunaway the other night. I never pegged her as your type, but she could be just what you need. She’s pretty and … light. I don’t know. Free, I guess. And she was making eyes right back.”
“We’re too different.”
“The boys sure seem to think a lot of her. Connor filled us in on her homemade ice cream and some sort of chair she’s got at her place? And she did step in to get the new food bank up and running. She’s good people.”
Ethan didn’t need reminding of her good points. He still couldn’t get the picture of her and Ronan sleeping in her chair out of his mind.
“She’s completely different from Lisa.”
“Maybe that’s just what you need.”
Ethan looked over at his father’s shrewd face. “Did Mom send you over here?”
John laughed, his blue eyes twinkling. “Maybe we agree about something. It doesn’t happen that often, you know.”
“Hmph.” Ethan huffed and looked away. “She’s never held back before, or sent someone else to do her dirty work.”
His dad laughed again, and Ethan couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. Dad-laughter had always had that effect on him. It seemed that when John Gallagher laughed, the world smiled along.
“Well, I’ll tell you,” John said, with a sigh. “Your mom means well. But she’s not a man, and sometimes it takes another man to understand. I’ve loved your mother for nearly forty years. It’s a partnership, there’s no doubt about it, but I always felt the responsibility of providing for the family. For being there. For … leading. And I’ve relied on your mother to keep me steady, to smooth out the bumps along the way. I don’t know how I would have managed to bring you all up if something had happened to her. We balance each other out. Without her, a piece would be missing. I know that Lisa was that piece for you, but God, Ethan. I don’t want you to be alone forever. If you’re interested in this woman, ask her out. Give yourself a break. Let her smooth out some of your rough spots. Maybe it’ll turn into something, maybe it won’t. But don’t be afraid to try.”
Ethan was touched and also floored. His dad rarely spoke of matters of the heart. Usually they didn’t say much at all. Just twisted the top off a beer, put on the game, and let the silence work it all out. For him to say so much meant he’d been thinking about it a long while.
“I’m scared,” Ethan admitted. “And it’s not fair to her for me to use her as a guinea pig to see if I’m ready to get back on the horse.”
“You are a decent man,” John declared, shaking his head. “But sometimes that moral compass of yours needs shaking up. If you tell your mother I said that, I’ll deny it.” He leveled a finger at his son. “Not for one minute do I think you’d be thoughtless. I just don’t want you to be afraid to give it a chance, if there’s really something there.”
Oh, there was something there. The kiss the other night had proved it. He hadn’t been able to get it out of his head. She’d been sweet, but darkly passionate, too, something he hadn’t expected. Maybe it was that his dry spell had been long, or that the kiss had been unexpected. Either way, she’d walked off not knowing how shaken she’d left him.
“On my own time,” he finally answered, as the coach blew his whistle and the boys went running to the center line. It was good advice, but he wasn’t about to be pushed into something he was
n’t ready for. Besides, Willow had been the one to run away. It didn’t matter if he wanted to pursue something or not. She had a say and her last words—and actions—had been loud and clear. She’d been scared to death.
Both father and son now left the topic alone, and instead talked about Aiden’s pending fatherhood and the new roof that John hoped to put on the storage shed out back. Good, safe topics that had nothing to do with Ethan and his personal life.
But as the practice ended and Ethan stood to stretch, he caught a glimpse of the Kissing Bridge. He and Lisa had kissed there when they’d been young and full of dreams. When their love had been indestructible. They’d believed in the legend; believed that their love would last forever and their future would be bright and shiny. A year later he’d taken her to the golf course overlooking the town and had proposed.
That bridge was nothing more than stone and mortar. It didn’t hold any special qualities or powers.
Ethan finally realized what he’d lost when his wife had died.
He’d lost his innocence. And he’d lost his hope, too.
Was it possible to get them back? Did he even want to?
* * *
In the week following Laurel’s announcement, Willow threw herself into work at the café, and when she wasn’t there, she was getting back on track with her chosen lifestyle. She added a nightly yoga routine after the café closed, then finished her day with chamomile tea and a meditation. At work, she organized her day with precision, blocking off time for administration and bookwork, and also creating new menu items with in-season local ingredients.
She should have been completely blissful. Instead she found her thoughts drifting to Ethan Gallagher whenever she let her guard down the slightest bit.
Long ago she’d made a vow to never let her heart be at the mercy of someone else’s. And it wasn’t that she’d lost her heart … it was more that she suddenly felt as if she weren’t in the driver’s seat. She wasn’t in absolute control. While her life philosophy was largely based on acceptance rather than control, it was on the principle of that acceptance coming from within herself.
