Thrilling Ethan

by Anna Paige

  “I’ll do that, no problem. As long as you agree to do something equally inexpensive. I mean, even the nicest bow—one as big around as a beach ball—couldn’t cost more than what…twenty bucks?”

  “I think it’s more like fifty, and that’s not the nicest one they make.”

  She leaned back a little, pressing further into the pillow as she raised one brow. “How do you know that right off hand?”

  “I remember Lennox talking about it when he bought his folks a car for their anniversary. A Mercedes. He threw a fit over the cheap-looking bow the dealership was going to throw in and ordered one himself.”

  She pursed her lips and nodded, looking impressed. “That’s kind of sweet, being so picky about such a small thing. I wouldn’t have thought he had it in him.”

  “He spends a fair amount of his waking hours living up to his douchey reputation, but when it comes to his folks, he’s all heart. They’re really great parents. Supportive as hell.”

  Her eyes locked on mine while we both processed that in our own ways, neither of us needing to state the obvious: Lennox was lucky.

  Luckier than most, and definitely luckier than us.

  Thank fuck he knew that and acted accordingly, or I’d have to kick the crap out of him.

  Emily and I remained quiet for a while, lost in our own thoughts. I laid my head on the pillow beside her and shifted my weight so I wouldn’t crush her beneath me.

  My dick protested the snuggling but I ignored it, letting my eyes fall closed as I took in the sensation of my skin on hers, soaking in her warmth as a slight chill crept across my bare back. I needed to turn on the extra heater, apparently. It was incredibly cold outside, had been for days, but today my heat was struggling to keep up.

  Like she could sense that I was getting a chill, Emily tugged the covers up over my back and shifted her hand under them to run her palm over my cool skin.

  “I meant what I said about not going overboard with my present.” I could feel the warmth of her hand seeping into my flesh, practically burning. Gooseflesh broke out all over my back and crept down my limbs. If she kept it up, I’d be groaning in no time. “Are you listening to me, drummer boy?”

  “Hmm…” I nudged her neck with my nose.

  “Don’t act like you don’t hear me. I don’t want you spending a lot of money on my gift. It’s unnecessary, and since I can’t afford to reciprocate, it would make me feel bad. Okay?”

  “You don’t have to get me anything,” I assured her, and I meant it. What could I possibly need aside from more time with her?

  “Oh, come off it. You know I’m getting you something.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll keep my spending down. But the epic-ness level will still be through the roof. I won’t compromise on that.” My hips involuntarily thrust into her side and I chuckled under my breath. “I guess I’ve trained my body to think ‘compromise’ means something else.”

  I pressed into her hip again, and she giggled, wrapping her legs around me. “It’s worse than saying ’treat’ in front of Dammit.”

  I shifted until I was squarely between her legs again, my erection brushing against her belly. “Worse? I think you mean better. Much, much better.”

  “You are awfully cute when you beg.”

  “Baby, I’m not the one who’s about to be begging for it,” I said as I nudged at her opening, teasing with the tip but not pushing inside.

  Let the battle of wills begin…

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Emily

  “I put that stack of invoices on your desk,” I told Arthur as I thumbed through the folders in my hands and muttered, “End of year paperwork sucks.”

  “That it does,” he agreed, standing so close I could smell the bitter coffee odor that seemed to seep from his pores. He’d been looking a bit haggard recently but brushed me off every time I asked about how he was feeling.

  We passed folders back and forth, double- and triple-checking that everything had been gathered, tallied, recorded, and labeled correctly. We only had one more day before the gallery closed for the holidays, giving us a whopping three free days before Christmas.

  It was just the two of us working, as usual. The walls were stark and empty, all the pieces properly crated and stored until the new year, when exhibitions would start again.

  “I don’t know why Niko insists on having us work another day. We’ll have everything in order by the time we leave today. What’ll we do tomorrow? Stare at the blank walls and drink coffee?”

  Arthur shrugged. “I can think of worse ways to spend a work day.”

  “Not me. I’d rather actually be working.” I dropped the stack of files I was holding onto the pile awaiting Niko’s perusal. “Sitting idle makes time drag on forever.”

  “Well, find a way to look busy, because Mr. Niko will be here in a few minutes. He mentioned wanting to give the two of us our bonuses in person.”

  I paused. “What about everyone else?”

  “I believe he said he mailed them.”

  “How thoughtful.” I rolled my eyes, not bothering to hide my annoyance. “If only he’d been satisfied mailing ours, too.”

  “You’re not looking forward to his visit, I take it?”

  “I never look forward to his visits, Arthur. But lately, he’s becoming more and more… I don’t even know how to describe it, but it’s starting to get really old. I wish he’d go back to his tropical oasis and let us do our damn jobs in peace.”

  “He’s the owner, Emily. He can come and go as he pleases.” Arthur shrugged, as if it was pointless to even discuss it.

  “I’m aware of that,” I told him in a clipped tone and went off to get myself another cup of coffee. The gallery seemed somehow colder with bare walls, and I found myself alternating hot tea, coffee, and the occasional thermos of cocoa—if I had any left over from making it for Ethan.

  He kept saying he loved the taste because it reminded him of our first night together. According to him, my lips tasted like cocoa, and after that night just smelling it in the air gave him an erection.

  I thought it was less about me and more about the fact that he was a chocoholic sex fiend.

  But he was my chocoholic sex fiend.

  Which reminded me…

  I rejoined Arthur, still stirring creamer into my coffee and asked, “You made sure that package didn’t get packed away with the rest of the pieces, right?”

  He was already nodding before I even finished. “Sure did. It’s safe and sound in the back office, behind the door.”

  “Good. I’ll take it with me when I leave tomorrow.”

  “Why not today? I can help you get it home, if you need me to.” Despite his crisp demeanor, Arthur really was a sweet man.

  I shook my head and patted him on the arm. “I appreciate that. But I can’t take it today. Ethan is picking me up. I’ll grab it tomorrow when I have time to drop it at my apartment.”

  “You’ve been seeing a lot of Mr. Chase recently.” Not a question, just an observation.

  “I have.”

  He nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “It’s good that you have someone.”

  “What about you? Have you met a nice lady who knows how to brew the perfect cup of coffee?” Arthur didn’t talk much about himself, and I usually didn’t ask, but it just seemed so sad that he was alone at Christmas.

  He just smiled and shook his head. “Not yet. But I have pretty high standards when it comes to coffee.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to invite him to dinner some night when the door chimed and Niko strolled in, swearing under his breath as he stomped his ridiculously inappropriate leather loafers and sent snow flying in all directions.

  “Italian leather, hand stitched. Ruined.” He stomped some more, using one hand to fluff his hair and send even more snow onto the floor. When his head came up and he realized we were standing there staring at the spectacle he was making, he raked his fingers through his hair to fix it and offered one of those
false smiles that gave me the creeps.

  “Greetings! How are you doing this morning?” he asked as a blanket question, but his eyes were locked on me.

  “Very well, thank you, sir.”

  “Arthur…”

  “Niko,” Arthur corrected, looking uncomfortable.

  “Better.” Niko nodded, his eyes still on me as he stepped through the gallery like a newly born calf, trying not to slip on the floor in his wet shoes. “And you, Emily?”

  “I’m good.”

  His brow quirked, but he hid it quickly. “Excellent. And how are things progressing with Conspicuous?” He looked me up and down just as quickly and resumed holding my gaze.

  “Beg pardon?”

  “Have you gotten anything in writing yet?”

  This shit again.

  I knew he’d mention it, because he always did. At least the calls had stopped after the last time I was curt with him. I should have known it wouldn’t last, though. “No. He’s taken the holidays off from business dealings and will handle the contract after the first of the year.”

  “And you’re being as courteous and professional as possible in your communications with him, yes?”

  The Prude was back.

  I was getting really sick of his shit. “Again, it might be best if you called Conspicuous directly rather than leaving it up to me. Then you won’t have to wonder how it’s being handled.”

  His smile slipped, and he shifted into apology mode, as usual. “No, no. You misunderstand me. I know you can handle the assignment. I was just looking for some reassurance, I suppose, that things will work out, and we can get something in writing soon.”

  “I think he has every intention of following through, but you know we can’t force him into anything, and worrying won’t change that either way.” It was the same mantra I’d repeated all those weeks when I didn’t know what was going to happen with Ethan and me. And I still found myself saying it whenever my mother’s voice intruded into my thoughts and made me doubt things.

  Niko said nothing, nodding in agreement because he knew he’d pissed me off.

  Because I was annoyed, I dropped all pretense of tact. “You came to drop off our bonuses, right?” I glanced to his empty hands and met his eyes again, giving him an expectant look.

  He reached into his inner coat pocket and withdrew two envelopes, handing one to Arthur and offering the other to me. When I reached for it, he took my hand and gave me what I’m sure he thought was a sincere look. His fingers were freezing but somehow still felt slimy on my skin. “My apologies, Emily. I didn’t mean to insult you.”

  “Okay.” I pulled my hand away and held it palm up. “My envelope, please?” I was beyond caring if I sounded like a bitch. I was tired of being made uncomfortable. I was tired of him acting one minute like he was offering me up to Ethan on a silver platter and then making comments about my professionalism the next. And more than anything, I was tired of showing respect for a man who wasn’t at all interested in showing me respect in return.

  He was in for a rude awakening.

  Not today.

  But soon.

  As much as I loved my job here, it wasn’t the only gallery in Manhattan, and after the success of the Conspicuous exhibition, my reputation would be enough to get me interviews at other galleries, should I decide it was time for a change. And it was looking more and more like that was the case.

  I hadn’t actively taken steps to find other employment, but it was coming.

  It was only a question of when.

  When he gave me the envelope, I folded it and stuck it in my purse without looking, because it didn’t matter what it was, how much it was. It wasn’t enough to buy me off.

  I nodded, but didn’t thank him. “Everything will be finished up here this afternoon before we leave. Arthur can fill you in on everything. I’m going to freshen my coffee.” With that, I took my still-scalding coffee back to the break room, where I stayed until I was certain Niko had gone.

  If I’d had to look at him one more second, I probably would have said something that was sure to get me fired.

  The next morning, I arrived at work with a bit of a chip on my shoulder. I’d had to leave Ethan in that big, warm bed all alone while I trudged out in the freaking snow for no reason other than Niko was a colossal douche.

  All the paperwork for the month had been handled, all the upcoming events were well after the first of the year, and therefore nothing was pressing. Even the end-of-year accounting had been done. I suspected that if Arthur and I had been hourly employees rather than salaried, we wouldn’t be working today.

  It was a damn waste of energy and time for us to sit there and stare at the pile of finished work for the next four hours.

  Ridiculous.

  I arrived a few minutes early, so I walked around and turned on the necessary lighting and started a pot of Death Wish brewing, though I’d stopped off for an egg nog latte on my way in. Caffeine and the crullers I’d picked up were the only things dragging this morning out of the crapper, as far as I was concerned.

  Ethan had looked so incredible lying in bed this morning, the sheet slung across his hips, bare chest on display, his various tattoos wrapping around his arms, the contoured ridges of his back. My God, he was beautiful. I was aware that word wasn’t usually attributed to men, but it was certainly fitting when it came to him.

  Inside and out.

  On every level possible.

  He was beautiful in his body and his smile and his eyes, but it was so much more than that. He was beautiful in his soul and his heart. The way he cared not just about those of us he loved but those who he’s never even met, the way he wanted more for everyone, that kind of more that stoked creativity and propelled others toward their dreams.

  As an artist—whether behind his drum kit or holding a paint brush—he wanted to see that spark in the people around him. He didn’t see other artists as competition; he saw himself in them and wanted them to have all the advantages he could offer.

  Every facet of Ethan Conspicuous Chase was beautiful.

  He had everything he could ever want, and he was everything I could ever want, so Christmas was tricky for the both of us, I think.

  But there was one thing Ethan had never had, one thing he wanted more than anything else, and although I couldn’t give him that, I thought I’d found the next best thing. The closest to his dream that I could possibly get.

  I walked back to the office and slid the heavy crate from behind the door.

  It was his dream, the only way I knew how to give it to him.

  When I opened the box to double check the contents, I gasped and felt the sting of gathering tears.

  Like my amazing Ethan, it was beautiful on every level.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Emily

  “Where the hell is he?” I muttered, looking at the clock. Arthur was late. And that wasn’t like him at all.

  I reached for my phone to call—because he detested texting and refused to do it—and yelped in surprise when Niko stepped out of the rear hallway.

  “Shit! You scared me half to death!” I put a hand to my chest and glared at him. “What are you doing skulking around like that?”

  His hair was full of snow when he hung his head, and I noticed he’d at least worn somewhat more appropriate shoes this time. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “Why are you here, Niko? And where’s Arthur?”

  He hesitated and something in his expression made me nervous.

  “Is he okay?” I prodded, not liking the feeling of foreboding in my gut. Arthur had looked so haggard lately. “Did something happen?”

  Niko stepped forward and shook his head. “He’s fine. Just a touch of the flu, I’m afraid. He phoned me early this morning and asked that I tell you Merry Christmas for him, since he won’t see you before the holiday.”

  “And you’re sure he’s okay?”

  “Achy and feverish, but he says otherwise he’s f
ine.” His gaze lingered on mine long enough to make me uncomfortable. He seemed to be studying me, gauging my response.

  “You could have called to tell me that, you know?” I refused to look away, so I stared right back until he averted his gaze.

  He stepped over to the reception area and fiddled with the pamphlets stacked on the high counter. “One of Arthur’s concerns was that he was leaving you here alone. So, I told him I would stop in to keep you company.”

  “You could also have just let me take the day off, given that there’s no work left to do anyway.”

  “Perhaps. But I also wanted to speak to you about Mr. Chase.” Even with the empty gallery, he glanced around before using Ethan’s real name out loud.

  I bristled, my guard instantly up. “What about him?”

  “Nothing about him specifically. I wanted to speak to you about my inconsistency regarding the whole thing. I feel I owe you an explanation and maybe even an apology.” He offered me a weak smile and gestured to the break room. “I need coffee. How about we brew ourselves some and sit down for a chat?”

  “I started a pot when I arrived. It should be ready.” I waved him ahead of me and let him lead the way, not feeling entirely comfortable giving him my back. After all, I’d caught him checking me out on numerous occasions, and we were all alone here today. I wasn’t stupid. This was Female Safety 101 stuff.

  Once we were in the break room, I stepped around him and made my coffee first, not giving him the opportunity to handle my cup and also not offering to pour his for him because it wasn’t my damn job.

  He wanted to apologize, fine. But I wasn’t about to make it easy for him.

  When we each had our cups poured, we sat at the table—across from one another—and he began after a long, tired sounding exhalation.

  “I’ve been unclear with you on my expectations, and I know that. It’s a hard thing to navigate, this opportunity. Ethan—Conspicuous—was by far the most successful exhibition this gallery has had since I took ownership. In part because of his status but also because of you. You handled the event and yourself with the utmost of professionalism. It was flawless. And people noticed.”