“Should I kick it?” Zoe asked, her foot raised and ready.
“No don’t kick it!” Ethan looked from one to the other. “You women are going to make me crazy.”
“Thomas says it helps to kick things,” Zoe shrugged, looking at him and wandering to her room.
“Exactly what the…what is all this?” Gwen looked around, eyes widening when it dawned on her. “I have not agreed...”
“Sure you did,” Ethan reached into the pocket of his jacket and tossed a small box to her before lifting a carton and disappearing into the spare room at the back.
“The hell I did!” Gwen followed him, stopping in the doorway. He had it already set up into a bedroom, a large desk in the corner and a television on top of the dresser.
“Your father and uncle helped me get stuff from some store room…I’m having the stuff from my apartment that I don’t want added to it later next week. I don’t have much…” Ethan stopped putting clothing into the closet when he realized she was no longer there. He shrugged and finished emptying the carton. “But it’s nice knowing someone might want to use it.”
Gwen was still working on leveling her breathing when she saw the forms on the counter, teeth grinding together as she printed in the yellow highlighted lines and signed at the bottom. She looked up to see him watching her, dressed in his ever present plain black t-shirt and cargo pants.
“Are you making arrangements for this?” She asked quietly, gesturing to the marriage license paper work.
“I’m working on it,” was the wary answer. “Are you agreeing?”
“Sunday at six. The family will be gathered for dinner. Simple, justice of the peace. Nothing fancy,” she turned to go toward her bedroom, looking over her shoulder. “I swear to you, if you turn this into a circus, I will walk out and throw the whole thing to the wolves.”
Ethan tipped his head, waiting until she was gone. “I’ll do my best not to muck it up, Miss Paddington,” he promised with a wink, going off to chat with Zoe while they worked on his room.
Gwen made it through dinner with Zoe, laughing and listening to the events of her day that continued through her bubble bath. Fragrant flowers still filled the apartment when Zoe began hauling blankets into the living room, dropping them in front of the fireplace. Gwen looked up from the computer with a frown.
“Zoe?” She watched as the little girl spread the blankets and disappear again for a book and a bunny. “What are we doing?”
“Having a sleep over,” she said simply. “You need your pajamas,” she told Gwen, sitting cross legged patiently with a book on her lap.
“I do, huh?” Gwen laughed and nodded, glanced at the clock and shut down her computer before going off to change.
Ethan looked up at the same time Gwen came around from her bedroom. His expression bemused, hers a little tense. She grabbed the light blanket from the sofa and wrapped herself in it before sitting on the spread out blankets with Zoe.
“You were invited to a sleep over,” Gwen said quietly, trying not to pay too much attention to the bared chest, flat stomach and low riding flannel pajama bottoms.
“I was,” Ethan answered, keeping his tone easy and light. “I think the one thing we can agree on, is Zoe, Geneviève.”
“Want me to read us a story?” Zoe looked up from the large picture book with a cheerful smile.
Gwen stretched out on her side, holding the pillow beneath her head and nodding. “I think I would like a story, Miss Zoe.”
Zoe yawned a short time later, handing the book over the Ethan and climbing to cuddle in the crossed legs. He leaned against the sofa, reading softly until he felt her slide a little lower with a long sigh.
Maybe there was something in the water, he thought, more than a little puzzled. He set the book to the side, cradling her in his arms. She was so tiny, he just stared at her for a long, quiet time. He’d been responsible for the safety of various people through his military career.
He was responsible for Zoe. Her happiness, her health, her life, came the abrupt realization.
Ethan rose carefully, carrying her to bed and tucking her in with her bunny, smiling at the soft mumbles she made in her sleep when he touched his lips to her forehead.
Like daddies do, he heard the little voice in his head.
He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. It’s all about choices, he heard intoned inside his mind as he stared at the woman sleeping on the floor, surrounded by ill-kempt blankets, extra pillows and a glow from the fireplace. He lowered the temperature before stretching out on the floor, one of the thick quilts pulled over them both.
He wasn’t sure thirty-six was old enough for a mid-life crisis. Ethan lay wide awake for a long time on his side, just watching Geneviève Paddington. She wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. She had eyes far too large for her face and a small nose. But there were those full lips that bowed prettily, especially when she was laughing and playing with Zoe.
They were opposites. He grew up without family and she grew up with the ability to form a family around her. And probably lost a little piece of herself with each addition.
He doubted he would ever be bored. How she had built the company into what it was now was a feat he admired a great deal. They were both protective, the fierce nature that shown through her eyes at times and gave him only an inkling of the strength she had inside her.
Choices, he heard echoed through his dreams.
Chapter Eight
Gwen swore she smelled coffee. A long groan eased from her lips. She hated sleeping on the floor. She pulled the quilt up over her head, fighting the lights rising with the timer. Except the blanket wouldn’t give and something heavy was draped around her middle.
“I think a rock fell on me,” she mumbled, wincing when she tried freeing her hair. She lay on her stomach, her arms beneath her head.
“It’s Uncle Ethan,” Zoe said from her vantage point on the sofa.
“It’s…what?” Gwen struggled to twist, the top of his head visible over her shoulder, his right arm snuggly and firmly wrapped around her waist.
“Uncle Ethan has art on his arm,” Zoe said, her head tipped as she studied the tattoo.
“You have a tattoo?” Gwen asked with equal curiosity, momentarily forgetting she was trapped.
Ethan groaned aloud. “Stop moving, Geneviève. I think my watch is stuck in your hair,” he growled, opening one eye and reaching up with his free hand to unwind the copper brown hair.
“Why do you have art on you, Uncle Ethan?”
“God, do you two always wake up like this?” Ethan rolled to his back, dark lashes narrowed against the rising lights in the main room.
“Exactly how much time do you need in the morning to become tolerable?” Gwen asked, shoved against the floor, straightened her top when he stared and climbed to her feet, taking Zoe from the sofa. “Let’s go find some clothes, brush teeth and fix hair, then we’ll make some breakfast. What’re you hungry for this morning?”
“I think cereal with little berries would be nice,” Zoe commented, the chatter continuing through the next half hour of rituals.
Gwen had heard the other shower going as they worked through cereal, both of them looking up when Ethan entered the kitchen and poured a large mug of steamy coffee.
“It smells nice,” Zoe decided with a nod. “Is it good?”
“It’s really good,” Ethan told her with a wink that had her giggling.
“Why did someone draw on your arm?” Zoe asked, pushing her bowl back and carefully turning to face him on her knees in the high stool. Gwen moved behind her, palms out to steady her.
Ethan looked over the top of the mug at Gwen.
“If you’re looking for help from me, sorry, I want to see, too,” Gwen said with a cheeky grin.
He set the mug down and turned his left shoulder toward them, rolling the sleeve of his t-shirt up to the cap of his shoulder.
“What is it?” Zoe asked, reaching out and tr
acing the design with her fingers. “It’s a nice star.”
Gwen waited. An open oval cluster of oak leaves with a star at the top and in a long blue box across the center, a slender rifle in very fine detail.
“It’s from a long time ago, Zoe. From a place I used to work,” Ethan replaced the sleeve and picked up his coffee.
“Oh…okay…it’s nice,” she said, turning and sliding on her belly until her feet touched the floor.
“Get your pack, Zoe…time for work,” Gwen cleaned up the cereal bowl and popped the last piece of toast into her mouth. “Children are curious but they don’t require complex answers, Ethan. Thank you for telling her.”
“You didn’t ask what it was,” he said quietly.
“Because I already know what it is,” Gwen told him honestly.
He watched her leave with Zoe as he poured another cup of coffee and went to the computer.
****
It was evening when Gwen had just signed off with Mia when it sounded like someone was trying to kick in the front door. Zoe came running from the bedroom.
“What’s that?” She scrambled onto the sofa, bunny in her arm.
“I’m not sure…” Gwen pulled the door wide to stare into a large carton with two arms wrapped around it. She stepped hastily to the side.
“Thanks,” Ethan peered around the side, dropping the box to the floor on the other side of the door, safely out of the way.
“What’s that junk?”
Gwen pulled her lips into a tight bow and tried to look neutral.
“It is not junk,” he told Zoe with a glare that went ignored by the little girl. “Stuff I had in my office.”
“That’s us,” Zoe said with a grin as she peeked into the box. “We’re cute.”
Ethan watched her lose interest and wander back to her bedroom, his head shaking.
“You get used to it after awhile,” Gwen said quietly. “You resigned already?”
“I don’t plan on going back,” he answered, accepting the plate she held out to him when he returned from the back of the apartment. “Thanks…”
Gwen watched him as she ate. “You’re sad. How long were you there?”
“I’m not sad at all,” he said with a shrug. “It was where I wanted to be at the time. I’m good at investigating. This is good,” he looked at the pasta and vegetable combination.
“Thank you. Something isn’t right…” her head shook slightly. “What’s wrong?” Gwen shrugged lightly. “I’m relentless, you know.”
“I’ve noticed,” was the dry retort.
“We’re going for our tree tomorrow morning, don’t forget, we promised Zoe,” Gwen continued eating. “Then I can show you the office. How did your secretary handle the news? Is she coming with you? I’m sure this is all very new to you…you’re used to being completely alone. It’s like your morning grumble thing.”
“Silence is what I’m used to,” he agreed, eating the pasta and going back for more. “My secretary is…excited. She’s good and I’m glad she accepted my offer.” He looked her over with one brow rising slowly. “You’re a lot alike,” he noted as if realizing it for the first time.
“It’s difficult finding the right person to trust,” she said with a nod of understanding.
“Why would you have given up on the idea of the restaurant, Geneviève?” Ethan leaned back in the chair, sipping the iced tea he’d poured. “It’s an amazing opportunity.”
“I spoke to Mia just before you came in,” Gwen had both hands on the glass of iced water, staring at the cubes floating inside. “Here I was working on my acceptance letter when it had already been handled for me. With a deposit. You…made an incredible leap of faith, Ethan. Why?”
“Because I believe it’s where you need to be,” he answered immediately.
“Do you always make those decisions for others?” Gwen watched one of his brows arch, a flush of heat striking her cheeks.
“We seem to have something in common, Geneviève. Fancy that,” Ethan drained the glass and carried his things to the dishwasher. “Thank you for cooking. I’m pretty much used to frozen things that nuke well...”
“Something is bothering you, Ethan. Maybe I can help,” Gwen handed her things off to him, watching him add them to the dishwasher. “You’re the brooding type…not the talking type…” She wrinkled her nose, her chin sitting on her palms as she watched him, following when he went down the hall to his room. She looked around the large room. Everything very neat and tidy. “Huh…you have suits…”
“Did you think I was going to wear sweats to work?”
Gwen laughed and sat on the bed, her feet pulled beneath her in the cross legged posture. The tone of voice answered her question for her.
“Ethan…you’ve visited the shops. I don’t wear suits. Uncle Kris looks like a gentlemen out for a leisurely walk in his suits, kind of country gentry, I think,” she said thoughtfully. “What you’re used to wearing will be fine. You’re the CEO. Authority and integrity don’t come from an outfit.”
“I’m going to have to get used to this talking thing, aren’t I?” Ethan leaned against the door jamb, arms crossed and watching her. Pins had fallen from the once neat hair style, wisps of autumn touching her cheeks and neck.
“I told you I was relentless. Yes, I’ll take responsibility for starting this by…by taking Zoe,” she admitted quietly. “But you made the choice that got you here. You’re going from no family to people who will do their best to look out for you, even when you think you don’t need it or want it. It’s what good families are made of, I think. Are you worried you made a mistake?”
“Geneviève,” Ethan drew out her name and took a couple steps forward. “I am not sad…I am not worried…nothing is bothering me…there is nothing wrong.”
“You’re tense,” she pressed, frowning slightly.
“Alright…I am tense,” he admitted, sitting beside her on the bed. “You don’t feel it?”
“Your tension? Of course I feel it, why do you think I keep asking?” She turned to face him, her head shaking. “If it’s the clothes, seriously…the aura you project around you holds your authority and ability to do the job,” she raised one finger thoughtfully, lips pursed. “The black, dark thing has a few people intimidated…”
“But not you,” Ethan commented lightly.
“I don’t intimidate easily, don’t feel badly about that one,” she dismissed. “Maybe you need an activity to help you relax…to unwind…what do you do for fun?”
“I could show you,” he said quietly, bemused at how intent she looked trying to help him through what she saw as a problem.
“Alright,” Gwen made a move off the bed, thinking they would be going somewhere only to find the waistband of her jeans snagged. She plopped back on the bed to peer at him.
“It involves you.”
“Me? Me how?”
“Don’t you think we have more than a few things in common, Geneviève?” Ethan moved across the bed, stretching out on his side and leaning on one elbow, watching her. She liked to look at a person when she talked, so he wasn’t surprised when she scrambled to sit next to him.
“I...hadn’t…but I know we must, or father would never have brought up the CEO position at all,” Gwen said thoughtfully.
“Is that why you’ve never married? I get the impression you’d have half a dozen kids if you could,” he was actually relieved when he saw denial in her eyes, her head shaking.
“Is that all you think a woman wants? Someone to breed with?” Gwen shook her head.
“Gwen…I didn’t mean…” Ethan swore softly. “I’m going to apologize now for being more than a little less than…” he fell back on the bed, his eyes closed.
“You’ve kept yourself isolated on purpose, haven’t you?” Gwen asked carefully.
“You know what I did during the conflict.” He didn’t ask. She knew. “Unlike you, I was married before. She didn’t have your…persistence. She said I changed over the five yea
rs I was there, and I’m not saying I didn’t…”
“You keep a lot of things locked inside. It’s difficult to talk about death and…and the things you see with someone you’re afraid of scaring or shocking,” Gwen nodded quietly. “But you can’t be part of a couple…part of…of friends or companions or partners…without talking about everything with that person,” Gwen thought about what she was saying and frowned, a voice arguing with herself inside.
“Is that why you’re so persistent?” He turned his head, watching the myriad of expressions crossing her face. “Your father tells me you’ve rarely dated and you’ve never let anyone close to you. Why, Geneviève?”
“I have a family to protect,” she met his eyes without wavering. “The first hour of conversation with my father was questions you might not have understood…but you’ve seen my long term plans, Ethan. You know it’s my intent that eventually, we’re going to merge with the resort. I couldn’t risk bringing anyone into the family that…that had motives or…or greed…that would ruin my direction. And yes, I would have walked away from Mia’s offer.”
“Why are you less important than the rest of them?”
“I have my pastry shop, Ethan,” she said with a smile. “I have the restaurant on top of the Emporium. I’m not less important at all. Which…brings me back to the check you wrote Mia…I’ll get that money back to you in the morning. I gave her the rest of my buy in money today. It really was kind of you…a little over the boundaries, but kind….but I know you don’t have the kind of available cash…”
“I’d ask how you know that, but I’m sure I won’t like the answer,” Ethan saw the evasion in her eyes. “Yeah…”
“The point is…if either of us had thought you were interested in pure financial gain, we wouldn’t be sitting here,” Gwen said simply. “And it is about looking at the over-all….the well being of the many is as important as the well being of just one of us. But we’re not a culture of consensus by any means. Which is why I've always maintained control. Sometimes I’ve had to make some people…upset…by my decisions.”
WindSwept Narrows: #9 Guinevere Paddington Page 6
