“That’s so sweet of you to offer,” Simplicity said, looking over her shoulder at Ethan.
She should go. She wanted to stay. She had no idea where things stood with Ethan. He didn’t look like he cared, but he did look like he wanted to murder someone. Was he angry with her? Is that why he had disappeared while she slept?
“I can wait in the car while you get dressed.”
“Oh, well, if it’s okay with Ethan, I’d like to stay. Until the storm clears and I can get my car started up.” She turned toward Ethan, hoping for a sign. A hint of a smile. An invitation in his eyes. Something.
“You heard the lady. She wants to stay.”
Simplicity exhaled and gripped the blanket around her to ward off the chill his hesitation had brought her.
Officer Jenkins nodded his head and started down the steps.
“You and your sisters need to start communicating better. This is the second time I’ve had to catch one of you in a, ahem, compromising position. I’d rather not witness the sexual acts of every damn person in this town, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Sorry. I’ll try to remember to grab my phone next time.”
Ethan stormed to the door and slammed it as Officer Jenkins made his way through the piles of snow.
“I feel bad that he had to come out here.”
“Can’t blame your sisters for being worried. You’re with the beast of Healing Springs, after all. And they haven’t heard from you. I’d have done the same thing if I were them.”
“Would you stop saying that about yourself, Ethan?” She surprised herself with the intensity of her anger. “You are not a beast. Or a monster. Or any of the other horrible things you’d like me to think of you. Just stop.”
“You don’t know me as well as you think you do.” He shoved his hand through his hair, and for the first time, she noticed the sweat dripping.
“Whose fault is that, Ethan? I’ve been trying to get to know you. You refuse to let down your guard. I want to know you. The real you. Not the façade you put on for everyone else. I thought we were getting somewhere today. Was I wrong?”
She searched his face for a denial, a reassurance.
He didn’t give her one.
She swiped at her tears. She was overtired—that must be the reason for her emotional outburst.
“I should call Jenkins and see if he can come back.”
“Yeah, you go ahead and do that.”
His shout surprised her.
“Just fucking go.”
She gasped, shocked at the vitriol that spewed from his mouth and his eyes. He stormed down the hall, a tornado of emotion she couldn’t handle.
Being empathetic could be intensely painful sometimes. This was one of those times.
She sank to the couch, but didn’t allow her body to rest. She jumped at the sound of a slamming door down the hall.
For the first time since he carried her in from the storm, she felt truly alone.
As if on cue, Oscar leapt into her lap, delivering a dose of purring and rubbing in his attempt to soothe her hurt.
She could always give up on the idea of human to human love and embrace her destiny as a cat lady.
Chapter Twelve
Ethan pounded the weights, struggling to lift the increased weight, especially after the punishing workout he had just finished. He had no other way to clear his mind. Too irritated to tend to his flowers, and too frustrated to accept the soothing Simplicity had to offer.
He was a fucking asshole.
Always had been. Always would be.
Why had he even allowed himself to entertain the thought that he could let his guard down around Simplicity?
Having the police show up at his door pulled him out of the gentle lullaby world Simplicity had led him into. Of course her sisters had called the cops. Why the hell wouldn’t they?
They knew what he was. They saw the truth. They weren’t blinded by whatever fucking fantasy world Simplicity created for herself.
He dropped the bar and slipped into his boxing gloves. Pounding the shit out of the bag helped to balance the anger he liked to direct at himself.
He usually liked to picture his enemies as he punched. Tonight he pictured himself. Enemy Number One.
A gentle knock sounded on his door. He ignored it. She’d get the hint and go off with the cop. As she should. He’d only hurt her in the end.
“Ethan.” She let herself in.
Her voice intruded his cloud of anger, bringing him a hint of relief. Damn it all to hell. He didn’t want her salve. He didn’t want to feel better.
He didn’t fucking deserve to feel better.
“Is this where you beat yourself up?”
How the hell could she figure him out so quickly? How did she so aptly cut to the core essence of who he was and what his intentions were?
Damn her.
“Get out.”
“When will you learn that you can’t drive me away?”
He closed his eyes and increased his rate of punching before grabbing the bag and leaning his head against it.
Her hand slipped over his sweaty shoulder.
“I’m here, Ethan. Please see me.”
He couldn’t look at her.
When he looked at her, all he saw was the man he wanted to be reflecting back at him. The man she deserved.
The man he couldn’t live up to.
“Ethan.”
His name on her lips made him want to curl up like a baby and cry at her breast. It also made him want to take her and love her and make her his.
Words filled his head—horrible, painful words that he could shout at her. Words meant to alienate. Words that would drive away any sane person.
They died in his throat.
He opened his eyes and looked into hers. He knew if he detected the slightest trace of pity, he’d throw her out in the snow.
No pity was there. And no, he wouldn’t throw her in the snow. He was all talk when it came to treating her poorly. Physically, anyway.
The intrusion of the real world had been a harsh pin to the happy little snow bubble they had built over the last couple of days.
But the trust in her eyes wouldn’t allow him to completely decimate the bubble.
He slid to the floor, burying his face in his hands.
He detested this show of weakness, but he couldn’t hold it back.
He didn’t want to drive her away. He wanted to keep her with him.
He was in deep shit.
“Ethan. Darling. Let me love you.”
She kissed his shoulder, his neck. She rubbed his head. She wrapped her naked body around his in a protective pose meant to ward the ugliness of the world away.
She could be his world. He could learn to love something in this world. He could learn to love her.
He had to allow himself to do it. He had to convince himself that he deserved love in the first place.
He stymied the flood of pathetic, ball crushing tears that had gathered behind his eyes.
“Ethan.” She kissed his ear. “If you truly want me to go, if I’m hurting you in any way, I’ll go. But I don’t want to, Ethan. I don’t want to.”
He heard the tears in her throat. The sincerity. The pain.
He’d only cause her more pain in the long run.
He had to let her go.
His hand gripped her wrist and pulled her into his arms.
“I don’t want you to go.”
She relaxed into his chest and planted a shower of kisses.
“That’s all I needed to hear.”
***
Simplicity didn’t want to look out the window to see that the snow had stopped, but she had to. As much as she wished to seclude herself in Ethan’s world, she had obligations and responsibilities that she couldn’t turn her back on.
This was the new her. She couldn’t sabotage herself so early in the game.
Ethan spent the afternoon shoveling the driveway. She tried to go out to help, but he g
rowled and sent her back in. He only had one shovel, so she couldn’t exactly force the issue.
Oscar had slipped out when Ethan first opened the door. She knew she couldn’t control the animal. He was a wild one, and he had served the purpose he had been sent for—to keep her sane in a tumultuous storm.
He had succeeded. And now he had to move on.
She hoped he’d return, but she also hoped she wouldn’t need him.
Simplicity lost herself in Ethan’s kitchen as he worked so hard outside. She gathered all the items she needed to make a basic apple muffin, thankful she knew how to bake with scarce ingredients, and relished the idea of surprising him with the muffins and some fresh tea when he finished.
“Got your car started.”
His deep voice sent a thrill through her as she took the pan out of the oven. She hadn’t been able to find any cupcake tins, so she made a coffee cake instead.
“What smells so delicious?” He kicked off his boots and wiggled out of his snow-covered clothes before dramatically sniffing his way into the kitchen.
“For you. They need to sit for a minute before cutting them, unless you like it crumbly. But here—hot tea.”
He clutched the mug to his bright red hands.
“I might have to go pull some spark plugs from your car. I think I’d like to keep you around.”
Judging by the look on his face, he was as surprised by his statement as she was. She knew better than to make a big deal of it, so she busied herself in wiping down the counter.
“I could drive you if you don’t like to drive in the snow.” He sipped his tea and peered at her over the rim.
“That’s okay. I’ve lived in New England most of my life—I don’t mind a little fish-tailing now and then. But thank you.”
“Mmhmm.”
“I guess I’ll get dressed. I’ll miss running around naked. Freedom frowns upon that at her house.”
He didn’t respond. And he didn’t grab her and try to seduce her into a quickie, either.
When she returned, fully clothed, Ethan was standing at the counter, breaking off bites of the coffee cake and sighing as he chewed.
“Good stuff.”
“Glad you like it.”
“Still on for our trip?”
She smiled, loving the way his words tickled her tummy.
“You didn’t mention when you wanted to go…”
“Next weekend?”
“Sounds good.”
With one fairly chaste peck, she said goodbye and returned to the empty world where she had to sleep alone.
***
“Good goddess, Freedom. I don’t plan to ‘run off’ again. I didn’t plan on being snowed in at Ethan’s. I’m not powerful enough to control the weather, but thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Simplicity blew her hair out of her face as she arranged the flowers on the counter. Beautiful flowers from the local florist. But not nearly as beautiful as Ethan’s flowers.
A secret thrill settled in Simplicity’s belly, and she wandered into the land of pleasant memories and erotic yumminess.
“I need to know I can trust you to not flake off.” Freedom checked her phone. “If I don’t leave now, I’ll be late for my meeting. But if you wander away from the desk, I’ll murder you.”
“Real nice, big sissy.”
“You have responsibilities now, Simplicity. You can’t keep living life like you have been and expect to earn respect.”
“I’m doing my best. I wish you could see that.”
“Doing your best isn’t good enough. You have to do better than your best. And when I get back, we need to talk about you getting a paying job. Rogan mentioned that the diner downtown is hiring.”
Simplicity wished the phone would ring to drag her away from this conversation. Freedom acted like she was Simplicity’s mother, and would probably never treat her like the adult she was.
“I’ll look for something during the slow times today. While I’m chained to the desk.” Simplicity smiled to cover what she really felt at Freedom’s annoying directives.
She felt her volunteer work was important. She felt the foundation she was working so hard to develop was far more important than some minimum wage job. She had no use for money. She had thought the bartering arrangement with Freedom was working great—she helped out with the motel and with Rogan’s kids, and in turn, she was given room and board.
What was the big deal?
Not everyone wanted to have a fancy car, brand name clothes, and own their own business.
Simplicity was content with her place in the world. She only wanted to improve things for those who were most vulnerable.
And that wasn’t her.
Freedom paused at the door, fiddling with her keys.
“I am proud of you, SiSi.”
Simplicity’s eyes clouded at her big sister’s use of Simplicity’s childhood nickname.
“You’ve been helpful here. I just don’t want to see you settle. I want you to work your way up to running the world like a good Peterson sister should.” Freedom winked, then ran out the door, letting the bells jingle as they settled back into their slumber.
“I’m not settling,” Simplicity whispered. She couldn’t get through to Freedom, so she had to keep telling herself. “And ruling the world is best left to the people who have mastered ruling themselves.”
Simplicity sat at the desk with a coloring book—one made by a local artist for adults—and waited for something to happen. For a guest to need extra towels. For someone to call to make a reservation. For someone to come in to say they locked their key in their cottage.
Nothing happened.
The place was eerily quiet. Freedom had told her that a bunch of tourists had cancelled reservations thanks to the blizzard, but they were still at about half occupancy.
Simplicity started to nod off at the desk when the jingle of the bells had her bolting upright.
A fancily dressed woman strolled in, looking out of place in the country-styled lobby. She looked down her nose at the quaint and comfortable décor.
And then she looked down her nose at Simplicity.
“Good morning, and welcome. May I help you?”
The woman played with the clasp on her handheld purse, suddenly looking as though she may faint.
“Are you looking to check in?”
The woman didn’t answer, but her eyes bore into Simplicity. Eyes she recognized.
Eyes that suddenly grew misty.
“Are you okay, ma’am?”
The woman nodded and cleared her throat.
“You must be the woman who has manipulated her way into my son’s life.”
Chapter Thirteen
Color flooded Simplicity’s cheeks. The words were flung like an accusation, and she didn’t like the way they stung.
“Mrs. Witherford?”
“Since no one has managed to get as far as you have, I find myself needing your help.”
Oh boy. This wasn’t good. Not good at all.
Talking to her or helping her in any way would be the knife in the back of her budding relationship with Ethan.
He’d hate it.
He’d hate her.
“I need you to get him to talk to me.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m not sure what you’ve heard—”
“Don’t you dare insult my intelligence. I know what’s going on. I know you need money.”
“Excuse me?” Her voice grew shrill and squeaky.
“You live in this, this,” she shuddered, “poverty. And you’re begging the town for money for some cause or another. Don’t think I can’t figure out why you’ve attached yourself to my son. I only wonder how you did it. Clearly you have some power over him. And you need to use that power for good.”
Simplicity blinked rapidly. She wasn’t confrontational by nature. She hated to be in the position of needing to put anyone in their place, and she didn’t even know how to do so. But this woman was out of line.
“You’re wrong! I care for your son, but it has nothing to do with his money. And you think there’s something wrong with wanting to feed hungry children?”
The woman waved her hand in the air, nearly blinding Simplicity with the light that bounced off her huge rock of a diamond.
“I didn’t come here to fight with you. I can see what he sees in you—you have flawless skin. Gorgeous hair. A winning smile. Clearly you’re a skilled seductress—I mean that as a compliment.”
“I think you should leave.”
“I will. But first, let me make a donation to your cause.”
“No, thank you.”
“Nonsense. You’re doing something honorable. I want to help feed the children.”
Simplicity stared at the woman as she filled out a check. She slid it across the counter, a challenge in her eyes.
“Now that we have that out of the way, you can do something for me.”
Simplicity gulped when she glanced at the check and saw how many zeroes were there.
Money was evil—she had never believed it more strongly than she did at that moment. But this money could feed a whole lot of kids. It could help her foundation grow and help more than the kids—maybe the whole town.
“Arrange for Ethan to be in the same place at the same time as me.” Tears filled the woman’s eyes. “He doesn’t have to know you had anything to do with it.”
Simplicity shook her head, which was now pounding with unspent emotion. This woman’s pain was palpable, but so was her manipulative power.
“I can’t do that. I’m sorry.”
Simplicity slid the check back toward Ethan’s mother. Mrs. Witherford stopped her—covering Simplicity’s hand with her well manicured ones.
“I’m not one to beg, but I’m begging you. Please.”
“It wouldn’t work, and I wouldn’t do that to Ethan. I’d never put him in a situation he didn’t choose to be in. I’m sorry—really, truly sorry. I wish I could help. But Ethan is a man and makes his own decisions.”
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