Audrey’s hand now gripped his fingers, her smile gone as she watched him tell his story. The story he refused to repeat to anyone for years. Feelings that raw needed to be buried. They hurt too much.
“Mom died shortly after. Her church donated most of the funds for her burial. I finished grad school with a mountain of student loans on my neck, but I managed to buy back her wedding ring that she’d pawned for my education. It’s the only thing I have left of hers.
“After Mom died, I turned to alcohol as my coping mechanism. Years later, after burying myself in the bottle and countless drunken fights, I woke up one morning to an empty fridge, a trash bin full of empty liquor containers and a cracked jaw. I switched to coffee and haven’t touched it since.”
“Have you spoken to your dad since then?”
Ethan scowled. “Graduation day from Brown. Announced he wanted to run for Congress and offered me a job on his campaign. I threw it in his face and hung up. Best and worst day of my life.”
“Whoa. Congress? After he refused to help your mom?”
Ethan sneered. “Yeah. But he lost the primary. Even his 600 million couldn’t help him. Serves the bastard right.”
Audrey pursed her lips. “Now I see where you get your thirst for destroying politicians. Hard to argue with that logic.”
“Not all politicians,” he replied softly. “Not anymore.”
Audrey’s smile lit up his confidence.
“I’ve been striving for this job in New York, proving to myself I can make it despite him. And I’m almost there.”
“New York Times?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow, Ethan. That’s incredible.”
The look in her eyes—pride, amazement, affection—bowled him over. Is this what encouragement felt like? It had been so long since he’d recognized it. “My mom and you are the only ones who’ve ever said that to me.”
“I’ve read your work, Ethan. Aside from the investigative dirt you dig up, your writing is excellent. You’re not afraid to ask the difficult questions.”
“Neither are you.”
Audrey laughed and picked a piece of lint off her robe. “That’s just politics. Not the part I like best.”
“No one likes the politics. But you get to the heart of every issue, unlike most others in your profession. You’ve overcome probably the biggest obstacle than anyone I’ve ever known.” Ethan laid his hand on her exposed knee, letting her warmth fill him up. “You keep pushing so hard to make a difference, but you don’t see that you already have.”
They looked at each other, long and unmoving. Their connection unending and unreserved. It scared the shit out of him. But he wasn’t ready for it to end. I’ll be damned. The real thing. I never thought it existed.
“You’re pretty charming when you have your eyes set on something you want.”
“You’re right.” He fixed his gaze on her irises. “And when I’m grateful for something, too.”
Ethan leaned forward and touched his lips to hers, slow and tender. When he pulled back, Audrey suckled his bottom lip. He rested his forehead against hers and breathed in everything. Her skin, her breath, her shampoo, even the fabric softener of the comforter. “I’m grateful for you.”
Chapter Thirty-One
After another round of showing how grateful he was for Audrey, Ethan watched her even breathing and luscious lips as she slept, tangled amid the comforter and sheet. He wanted to add his own body to the entanglement, envisioning his legs wrapped around her silky calves and nearly-edible feet, but he had one more important thing to do before he felt redeemed.
Rewrite his article.
He’d already tried to call Bose again as soon as Audrey crashed, but since it was close to 2am, he wasn’t surprised there was no answer. So now he crept out of the bedroom in the darkened apartment, yet still cozy and comfortable as home. The streetlights a few floors below cast a warm orange glow through the living room blinds as he curled up on the couch.
The flow of words from his mind couldn’t keep up with his fingers and he tried to keep his typing quiet. The half-smile reflected in the screen didn’t distract him, but only made him grin wider as he wrote. This was an entirely different writing experience.
It was happy. Exhilarating in a self-fulfilling way. There’d be no threats or nasty-grams from readers on this one. Probably the first one in his entire career. But it was no puff-piece, either. Honest, factual, with an undercurrent of hope. Much like Audrey herself.
Bose would claim he’d gone soft, found a conscience in the little backwoods town, and now was useless as an investigative journalist. But only until he read this.
In less than thirty minutes, his rewrite was done and resubmitted to Bose via email. Which he’d receive when he woke, no doubt. Sunday morning’s paper would have one of the highest circulations in the publication’s history. Ethan just knew it.
Stretching his muscles, he reached back and his hand hit something on the windowsill.
He set his laptop on the coffee table and looked back. A notebook, larger than a journal with worn leather, dangled off the ledge. Her diary? No. Not left out in the open like this. The binding creaked as he opened it, skimming through the first few pages.
Exquisite. Mostly black and white sketches of faces, quaint street facades and landscapes. A few in color. Particularly several of one he recognized. The pond in Mackineer. Each season depicted in explicit detail, with both spring and fall in full color.
The way she’d spoken about her art before gave him an idea of her passion, but these sketches were breath-stealing. Seeing her work revealed he had no idea the true depths of this woman’s capabilities.
If she’d wanted to make a career out of this, Ethan knew at least a dozen people who’d line up for these prints alone. Including himself.
He paused at a gray and black sketching of the graveyard. From the bottom of the hill, Jackson’s black marble headstone drew the viewer’s eyes to the center, the slightly exaggerated size of the marker made everything else seem faded, and loneliness crept over him.
A true artist. Every feeling visible with each pencil line or brush stroke. Her heart wasn’t worn on her sleeve. It lived on every page.
He flipped through the final few sketches and froze. The last one was his face.
Was this a mirror? The close-up of his eyes almost made him turn around to check. Each vein in his irises, the shadows in his pupils, and the varying lengths of his lashes couldn’t possibly be this accurate otherwise.
But the emotion throttled him most. Somehow, in the mixture of shades she’d captured the frustration and torment he’d tried to cover beneath determined ambivalence. She saw him.
A small inscription on the bottom of the page caught his eye.
The date.
Four days ago. The day he met her.
She saw him this clearly on day one?
Ethan closed the notebook, trying to slow his heartbeat.
Fuck, he was scared. Like a boarding school kid, he felt like running into his bunk bed and throwing the covers over his head. Where did that come from?
Ethan had lost count of how many women he’d sported with. He used to consider each a little badge on his shoulder. None of them gave him more than a few minutes of indigestion. Why was this so nerve-wracking?
If he could punch himself in the face without waking Audrey up, he would. So yanking on his hair was his only comfort in the silent room. He put the notebook back on the windowsill and slipped his laptop bag in his bag.
He moved back into the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe and watched her sleep. Relaxed, secure. He’d give anything to sleep that peacefully.
When she smiled and moved her head on the pillow, still fast asleep, his heart skipped.
Good dreams. How he hoped it was because of him.
Shit. I’m in love with her.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The shrill ring of her cell phone made Audrey want to bury her face deeper in the covers
. A squint at the clock from under her pillow showed a bright blue 6:56 a.m.
Audrey groaned.
Then a warm and strong hand slid across her shoulder and wrapped itself around her waist. And squeezed.
Ethan.
He’d stayed all night. With her.
She held her arms around his and the phone stopped.
Even first thing in the mornings he smelled like cologne. Or was that just his natural manly scent? She pushed her hips further back into the spoon their bodies formed and smiled. The rock hard member was at attention. Ready for more.
“Good morning,” she murmured through a grin and swayed her hips against him.
A deep moan from his pillow sent prickles across the back of her neck.
“That’s a nice wakeup call.”
“Yes, you are. But I’m all out of condoms,” he replied.
“Aww, shucks,” she teased. “You’ll have to reel him in yourself. Coffee?”
“Wait.” Ethan rose up and pressed on her shoulder, turning her face into his. He pressed his soft lips against hers, slow and gentle. “Mmm, yes please.”
Her phone rang again, echoing across the room.
“Someone really wants to talk to you,” he mumbled through another kiss.
“Probably Miranda. Go rein in your stallion while I get us some coffee.”
Audrey snaked out of the covers and sashayed into the kitchen, grabbing her phone from the dresser as she left.
Yep, Miranda.
She flung it open with a flick of her wrist and yawned. “Can’t I have at least one cup of coffee before today’s briefing, Lieutenant? At least a bathroom break.”
“Shut up and pick up the paper,” Mandy bit out.
“Whoa! It’s too early for attitude, hon.” Audrey pulled a mug down from the cabinet and started filling the coffeemaker with water. “Where’s the fire?”
“Spreading across the front page, and it’s already ruined us, Aud. Heartbreaker boy hit again.”
“It can’t be that bad, Mandy.” Not after the night he and I just shared. “Have you had your Xanax today?”
“Audrey! Pick. Up. The paper.”
When she opened the front door, she saw the headline through the plastic wrap sitting on the welcome mat.
HOMETOWN SCANDAL DOOMS ALLEN CAMPAIGN
Her stomach caved as all of the air whooshed out of her lungs, and her legs became brittle and pudding all at once. Holding onto the doorjamb to keep from buckling, she picked up the paper and slid it out of the sleeve, dropping the plastic on the mat.
When unfolded, Jack’s high school photo smiled out at her next to a capture of the mangled car wreck. Mandy’s voice drowned behind the roaring in Audrey’s ears. Just below the photos were four words that gripped her chest:
WRITTEN BY ETHAN TANNER
The pain shot through her arms and down into her belly. The pieces of her heart shattering into every corner of her body.
“I thought you said this was nothing you couldn’t handle?” Mandy almost cried into the phone.
“I have to call you back.” Her voice sounded hallow, eerie, as if it weren’t her own.
“No, Audrey. We have a shit storm of damage control. I’ve already had a half-dozen phone calls asking for comment.”
Audrey closed the phone.
Before her feet would move, a door opened down the hall and an elderly man grabbed the paper in front of his apartment. His slippers shuffled to move back inside, then stopped as he read the headline. His gaze instantly moved to Audrey, still frozen by her door, and his jaw sagged.
Before the neighbor could say anything, Audrey finally darted into her apartment and quietly shut the door. As if she escaped with the least amount of noise, it would cause the least amount of damage to her image. Not that she could run from the crippling words she held in her hand.
The first paragraph set the tone of her dread, knowing the rest would only get worse. With each sentence, another piece of her heart splintered and withered.
“…ran from her mistakes.”
“…wave of pain and resentment in her wake.”
“…even her brother pledges not to vote for her.”
“…stealing the hometown hero’s life and the dreams of dozens.”
She couldn’t scream. Couldn’t cry. Her body wouldn’t let what her soul begged for.
Last night was a lie. Everything out of his mouth, his eyes, his body only meant to ensnare her more.
What did you expect from Ethan Tanner? You traded your campaign and respect for one night on a fool’s hope.
She cringed through her unguarded heart.
Looking up from the paper, she found herself in the kitchen bracing her arms against the counter. The phone shrilled through the kitchen again, dancing across the counter.
“Good Lord, you’re important. Seven a.m. and they’re relentless.” Ethan’s silky voice drifted across the air on his cologne. His wide shoulders leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and he gazed at her the way only a moment ago she would have lost herself in. Like she was a plate full of chocolate soufflé to a starving man.
She wanted to throw up.
“Before your busy campaign schedule today, can you spare an hour for breakfast with me?” She could have slid across the smoothness of his voice like a figure skater on ice. If only it didn’t lead her to thinner promises.
“I’m all booked up today,” she finally croaked out.
“What’s wrong?”
“Really?” She glared into his innocent eyes. “You’re gonna play dumb? I didn’t think that was in your playbook.”
“What are you talking—”
“You, more than anyone else, had the whole story.” She cut him off, acid dripping with every word. “I thought you understood…everything you said. No. Forget that. You’re just like the rest of them.”
“Talk to me,” he cooed, placing his hands on her shoulders. But she wiggled out of it.
“I’m done talking to you. Get out.”
“What?”
Audrey brushed past him, forcing her face to be strong and emotionless, and gathered up his bags in the living room. When she turned around, she strode past him to throw his things out the door, trying to ignore his horrified shock as he read the front page.
“Bose, you son of a—” he murmured under his breath.
“Oh, so it’s not your fault.” She tossed the bags in the hallway. “Place all the blame on someone else. You mean you didn’t write that? Those words didn’t come out of your mind? You didn’t submit that to your press?”
“I swear this isn’t what I meant to publish. I had a completely different article—”
“I don’t want to hear it.” Audrey flung open her front door and waited.
It didn’t matter that Ethan played hurt and stunned so well it nearly convinced her. It didn’t matter that she started to feel the anguish rip through her heart and up into her throat. It didn’t matter that she finally opened herself to another person only to have it exploded back in her face.
“No, Audrey.”
What?
“I’m not gonna run from this. Yes, this article is mine, but I wrote it before last night at the pond. When we came home to pack, I called my boss and told him not to run this. I’d have a better one for Sunday. Then after the incredible night we just had, I wrote a different one. One that would ensure your victory, but… I’m so sorry.”
Audrey swallowed hard. Fight the tears… Peacemaker face. Peacemaker…
“You finished?”
“God, I hope not.”
“I don’t want your apology, Ethan. But you better call the Davises and give it to them instead. I told you I wasn’t concerned about myself. It was his family I wanted to protect.”
Peacemaker face had never been so painful in her life. She meant what she said: his family was more important than her own feelings. But this was one thing she couldn’t handle.
“Get out,” she finished, tearing her watery eye
s away from his ashamed face.
“Please, Audrey. How can I fix this?”
You’ve already ripped out my heart so I can’t feel anymore. I’ll be immune to everything.
The phone rang again, echoing through the apartment like a firehouse siren. Audrey stood her ground, staring at the wall across from her.
Ethan slowly moved forward, gathered his bags from the floor at her feet, and stood. Without a word, he leaned in to kiss her cheek, but she pulled back and clamped her jaw shut.
When he stepped through the door, Audrey let a single tear fall down her cheek, the cheek he couldn’t see.
“I’ll make this right, Audrey.”
She slammed the door on the last ring.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Ethan sped through the streets, the adrenaline as rampant in his system as the fuel in his truck. His hand hurt like hell, but the ache in his chest was worse. He couldn’t tell if the roaring sound was the diesel engine or the fury pulsing in his ears.
Bose’s used-car-salesman grin only infuriated him more. Confronting his boss was useless, but he couldn’t stop himself. It wasn’t surprising that Bose ran the more damaging article, but it was the first time Ethan had been truly ashamed. Of Bose, his profession, and himself.
But it was his own words that stunned him the most. “I won’t keep working like this,” he’d yelled.
“What are you talking about?” His boss scoffed at him in his office, the phones ringing like annoying mockingbirds throughout the scattered cubicles. “This is what you’ve always done, only better. Our volumes have never been higher.”
“It was shit, Bose. And you know it.”
“Are you saying it wasn’t the truth?”
“It wasn’t the whole truth.”
“Then you’re fine.”
“I’m not trying to save my ass, Bose. I’m trying to do what’s right.”
“Holy shit,” Bose murmured, staring dumbfounded back at Ethan. His slick black hair suddenly looked slimy and unearthly. Just as his eyes. “I warned you, Tanner. You grew a conscience. That backwoods hick town messed with your head.”
“No, it didn’t. I messed with my own head. I’ve destroyed her.”
Audrey's Promise Page 21
