Romance Me (Boxed Set)

by Susan Hatler

  “Listen to our sisters,” Theo said, pulling Ethan out of his reverie. “Just like old times, out there giggling non-stop. Remember what annoying little pests they were when they were younger?”

  “You know, as much as we teased them, I think we were probably just as bad,” Ethan admitted.

  “Nah, we were awesome,” Theo shot back, an arrogant grin on his face.

  Ethan shook his head, smiling. “You are just as full of yourself now as you were back in high school.”

  Theo flashed him a grin. “I keep my ego quite healthy, thank you. And our sisters were little twerps. But I do think they came out okay in the end.”

  More than okay, Ethan thought. Amazing. Brilliant. Beautiful.

  “Although,” Theo continued, drying a dish in his hands, “I can’t believe that not one of those three girls bid on me last night. I could have repaired Chessie’s roof just as well as Jack could. Plus, I would have taken off my shirt while I was up there so she could check out my pecs.”

  Ethan shook his head, smiling. “I highly doubt Chessie would want you preening on her roof. We all got enough of that last night when you were doing your body-building routine on stage at the auction.”

  “Hey, Jack’s the Guy Next Door, you’re Mr. Mysterious, and I’m the Gorgeous Hunk—we all have roles to play.”

  “And we each play those roles so well,” Ethan answered quietly.

  “Too bad old Mrs. Gregson bought me. I was hoping for a hot chick, but I got our former librarian. She doesn’t want a date, fortunately, just someone to help haul a bunch of dusty books over to the library,” Theo said, hopping up to sit on the black granite counter. “Sadie sure put up a fight to win you last night. You going to make good on the date she paid for?”

  Ethan’s stomach clenched, but he forced a relaxed air. “Yeah, sure. I guess I’ll come back for a longer visit once this play I’m directing ends.”

  “You like being back here?”

  “I love being back. I love being so close to Lia.”

  Theo kicked a foot out at Ethan, catching his attention. “So why do you so rarely come home?”

  His shoulders tightened, and he dropped his gaze to his feet. “You know, I always thought that by going away and making a load of money to send to Lia that I was providing for her.” He shook his head. “What she really needed from me was protection. I never should have left, never should have taken your parents’ scholarship to Harvard. And after that, I never should have gone to New York and sunk myself into my work. Now it’s too late.”

  Theo leaned forward, drawing his attention. “You being here or at Harvard or on Broadway wouldn’t have mattered. Lia was a victim, and hid it well. No one knew, Ethan.” He made a sharp motion with his hand. “None of us knew. Don’t get me wrong—in no way am I saying it was her fault for covering up Vance’s abuse, but she was so scared of him she made sure we never found out what he was doing to her body—and her soul. It was the only way she knew how to protect herself.”

  Ethan wanted to punch a wall, to break something with his fist, the way he’d dreamed of breaking Vance’s face after he’d found out about the abuse. But by then, Vance had been dead and buried and he’d had no chance to seek revenge, to make up for not protecting his sister. He’d just crawled further into his shell.

  “Stop beating yourself up over this,” Theo said, interrupting his thoughts. “It’s over, done. Lia has moved on, and you should, too. Enjoy these few moments you have with your family and friends. Besides, your flight to New York is in a few hours. Want me to drop you off at your B&B?”

  Ethan snuck a quick peek at Sadie out on the patio, her head tilted back as she laughed, the wind gently teasing her hair, curls waving around her face like a moving halo. His heart clenched. “I appreciate the offer,” he said, polishing dry the last of the crystal goblets that had minutes before been full of freshly squeezed orange juice. Slowly, he placed it in the lead-paned glass cabinet, thinking of all the times he’d been served sodas in the Waterford crystal goblets as a teen. His life had been so entwined with the Courants. “I think I’ll have Sadie drop me off, though. I feel like such a heel for not recognizing her last night. I still need to make it up to her.”

  Theo laughed. “She did do that Ugly Duckling thing pretty well. No wonder you didn’t recognize her if you hadn’t seen her since high school. I guess I didn’t realize that you’d been that out of touch for so long.”

  Ethan nodded. “I’ve been back to Meadowview a few times since I left for Harvard, but Sadie was always gone when I was in town. We’ve been emailing regularly for the last twelve years, but she’s never sent pictures. I can’t believe I was that clueless.”

  Theo chuckled. “You should have seen the look on your face when you realized who she was. Your jaw dropped so low I could see your tonsils.”

  Ethan flicked the dishtowel and managed to catch Theo’s rear with a sharp snap.

  Theo jumped, clutching his butt with both hands. “It’s true,” he yelped. “You looked like a complete idiot—a fool, a moron, a brainless dimwit—standing there with your mouth wide open as you watched her storm off.”

  Ethan rolled his eyes. With a friend like this, he certainly didn’t need any enemies.

  Sadie had been his friend for years. But after their night of passion, would it be possible for them to still be friends?

  Chapter Seven

  With the dishes done and all the breakfast detritus cleared, Sadie hugged Lia goodbye and then sent Theo on his way, promising she’d return Ethan to his bed and breakfast and get him to the small airport that served Meadowview and the surrounding areas.

  The minute the door shut, a wave of dizziness hit her. Ethan would be leaving, and soon. The way he poured himself into his work, she didn’t know when she’d see him again. And even when she did, their agreement had been for one night. What they’d shared last night was an experience she’d never be able to reclaim. She walked back into the kitchen, Ethan following.

  “You know, I do have to catch my flight back to New York in three hours.” Ethan’s statement was blunt but kind as he searched Sadie’s face.

  “I know,” she replied, reaching for him, “but you have some time, and I have a great idea how we could spend those three hours.” Her fingers stroked the back of his hand.

  Ethan smiled, but pulled his hand away. He sat on one of the kitchen stools. “As much as I’d love to start back up where we left off this morning before our siblings interrupted us, don’t you think we need to talk about what happened between us first?”

  Her heart clenched. No, she didn’t want to talk. She wanted to run her hands over Ethan’s naked body, not rehash their decision from the night before—their decision to fall into bed for one night, and one night only. Sadie snorted. “The Talk. I don’t want to have The Talk. Can’t we pretend we had The Talk?”

  Ethan grimaced. “Sadie, I won’t feel right if we don’t talk about this, about your expectations.”

  She ignored him. Instead of responding, she straddled his thighs and sat on his lap. She entwined both hands behind his neck and leaned in close before speaking. “I have no expectations, except the one where I expect you to get naked so I can have my way with you.” She reached for Ethan’s zipper.

  He tried to fend her off, although his actions seemed rather feeble. “Sadie, you need to get your hands out of my pants when I’m trying to be serious.”

  “There’s no time for seriousness, Ethan. You leave in three hours.”

  “Sadie—oh…” Ethan stopped talking for a moment when Sadie’s hand encountered what she knew it probably shouldn’t encounter if they were to remain clothed.

  “You were saying something?” she all but purred.

  “Really, I need to settle all this before we go any further. Can you be serious for a couple of minutes?”

  No way. Sadie licked Ethan’s neck.

  Ethan pushed her away.

  Now who was being the brat? “Fine,” she huffed out. �
��We’ll have The Talk. Only I’ll do all the talking, that way it will save us on time. Here goes: Fact One: we did it. Fact Two: I’ve had a mad crush on you forever, but you’re unable to commit to a relationship, which makes you feel guilty because we just made wild monkey love last night and are about to again. Fact Three: I’m a big girl and can take care of my own heart and make my own decisions, so you by no means are allowed to feel guilty about the fact that you’re going to love me and leave me. And I think that about covers it.”

  Sadie felt delightful tingles shoot into her limbs when Ethan pulled her head to his and kissed her deeply. Slowly, and with just a slight amount of pressure, he moved his hands down her neck to her sides, then along her ribs, lightly brushing the outside of her breasts with his thumbs.

  “Oh, Sadie,” he breathed. “What am I doing to you?”

  “Making me tingle?”

  He reached for her face again, cupping the back of her head and pulling her lips toward his. He hesitated for a brief second. She held her breath, praying he wouldn’t change his mind about kissing her, and then he melted his mouth to hers. The kiss started out soft and fragile, yet increased its intensity and heat as Ethan swept the tip of his tongue against hers.

  Sadie shuddered and Ethan responded by deepening the kiss. His tongue was strong and feathery soft as he made love to her mouth with his, nibbling her lips, clashing his teeth against hers, sharing her breath.

  “Ethan.” She whispered his name, noting how quickly he could move her from sexual silliness to heated passion.

  He covered her face with light kisses—feather touches over her eyelids, cheeks, and nose.

  “You’re really okay with this being a one-time thing?” he asked, genuine concern heavy in his voice.

  This time it was Sadie taking Ethan’s head in her hands as she stroked the silken black hair from his forehead. “Yes, really I am, Ethan. I won’t risk our friendship for anything. Not even for great sex.”

  His eyes closed, Ethan let his head loll back on his neck, as if overwhelmed by Sadie’s statement.

  “You know how I feel. And I respect your boundaries,” she whispered. “Everything has been said that needs to be said. You’ll go back to New York, and while we won’t ever forget that this happened, we can hold it in a special place in our hearts and look back on it and smile.” Sadie’s voice held conviction; the message aimed more at her wildly beating heart than at Ethan’s conscience.

  Ethan looked off into the distance as he wound his hands in Sadie’s hair.

  She held her breath, waiting for him to come to a decision, stroking the side of his face with the back of her fingers, searching his eyes as he looked out her kitchen window.

  After what seemed an eternity, he spoke. “Stand up.”

  Her heart crumbled. He didn’t want her. Tears pricked at her eyelids.

  He pulled his gaze away from the window and met hers. Reading her expression, he smiled and shook his head. “No, not ‘stand up’ like I want to get rid of you. ‘Stand up’ like I want you to get off my lap so I can make wild monkey love to you.”

  Her laugh was low and throaty as she stood, allowing Ethan to sweep her up in his arms. She squealed when he pretended to drop her on the stairs. “You’re such a pill!”

  “Little Twerp,” he teased back, then kicked open the door to her bedroom and unceremoniously dumped her on the bed, still rumpled and unmade.

  ***

  Dropping Ethan off at his car had proved to be more difficult than Sadie had anticipated. An awkward kiss on the cheek and one of those “patting” hugs were all she received. No long embrace, no soft tongue against hers, no mention of their fantastic sex-filled night and morning. No comment about how beautiful she was, or how fantastic she made him feel in bed. Instead, it was like dropping off her brother, only emptier.

  After arriving back at The Cottage, she put her car in the garage and headed to the pool area. She shucked off her summer dress, then sank deep into the hot tub, completely submerging herself. Holding her breath as long as she could, she tried to erase the images of Ethan bombarding the inside of her brain. She needed him gone, needed their passionate moments to be erased from her mind—from her heart. The pounding of her heart and pressure in her head forced her to come up for air before any Ethan images were wiped clean.

  Tilting her head back against the tile of the hot tub, she let her body drift to the surface and sway back and forth, buffeted by the roiling bubbles of the jets. An image of Ethan holding her in his arms washed over her mind, and tingles washed over her body.

  “What have I done?” she whispered in the afternoon air.

  For a moment, her mind was thankfully blank, then more images of Ethan came pouring through, sending an electric jolt through her body.

  “At least now I know what I’m missing,” she muttered to herself. And at least their time together hadn’t left her crying.

  Not yet, at any rate.

  ***

  The airplane shuddered, jolting Ethan out of a sound sleep. The flight attendant’s voice piped over the intercom, reassuring the passengers that the bumps and jerks they felt were just turbulence caused by a low-lying system over the Rockies.

  Ethan balled his jacket up against the window and tried to return to sleep. After his night spent thoroughly enthralled with Sadie’s body, he could use a nap. But between the jet bucking through the air and the little boy seated behind him gleefully yipping “Ride ’em cowboy!,” sleep eluded him.

  His overly large neighbor let out a loud snore and shifted positions, invading what precious space Ethan had secured. Scrunched close to the edge of his seat, Ethan tried rearranging his long limbs. Height had its disadvantages when shoved in a flying tin box with over one hundred other people. With each rattle and roll of the airplane, his knees hit the back of the seat in front of him. Flying coach during turbulent weather certainly had its drawbacks.

  However, flying first class never seemed right to Ethan. With his lucrative career providing him enough money to live it up in style, he still lived his life with simplicity. Growing up the way he and Lia had, in a beat-up trailer down by the creek, money was hard to come by and readily spent on alcohol by their father. Besides rot-gut whisky, all that their father brought home from the grocery store was peanut butter, jelly, bread, and soup.

  Being best friends with Theo Courant, who came from one of the richest families in California, could have made Ethan envious of what wealth could buy. But the Courant family never once made Ethan feel bad for coming from such a destitute background, and they lived responsibly. While Theo’s parents certainly had the money to fritter away on any little whim, they opted for less showy purchases, such as a new 4-wheel drive SUV versus a sleek, new model sports car. The Courant family vacations were usually spent visiting relatives on the East Coast rather than renting luxury residences in Tahiti. And when Ethan turned sixteen, Theo’s father, Jon, had taken Ethan under his wing and showed him how to invest his money wisely.

  Following Jon Courant’s model, Ethan invested his earnings, which rapidly multiplied. After growing up without, now he had more than he needed. He’d avoided extravagances for years, but when the man next to him shifted again, then jammed an elbow in Ethan’s side, he recognized full well the appeal of flying first class. God, he wished he were elsewhere.

  Like with Sadie.

  Who’d mentioned something about going for a run, then sitting in her hot tub. Closing his eyes again, Ethan imagined Sadie naked, surrounded by bubbling, frothy water, her face dewy from the heat. He could still catch a whiff of her perfume; it clung to his shirt when he hugged her goodbye.

  Damn. Sadie’s wet, naked body was definitely the wrong thing to be thinking about on a plane. He considered a trip to the bathroom until things cooled off, but his seatmates effectively trapped him in. Ethan lowered his serving tray and draped his jacket over it, hoping to shield his lap from wandering eyes. With more than several hours to go before landing, and with naked images of
Sadie flickering through his mind, it was going to be a long and hard trip.

  “Hard” being the key word.

  Chapter Eight

  Once again, Sadie was pissed. In her cramped office on the top floor of the Meadowview Theater, she flicked her Mont Blanc pen against the teakwood desk, watching a small ray of sunlight bounce off the pen’s silver. Another interview, another disaster, she thought, tossing an overzealous resume in the “Rejection” pile. She dragged her fingers through her hair. The sound of laughter came from Meadowview’s Market Street, through her open office window.

  She gritted her teeth and thought about shutting the heavy iron-rimmed window behind her to block the sound of other people’s happiness, but quickly rejected the idea. Once a storage room, her miserable excuse for an office needed all the air it could get, now that the heat of summer had started to build.

  Why did she ever think having her office over the old, majestic theater would be a swanky idea? Sure, the location couldn’t be beat—she was deep in the heart of California’s cutest small town—but the lack of air conditioning and having to share the entire upstairs with props and old costumes took its toll.

  She sighed. Her frustration had little to do with her cramped and stale office. No, this was about the disaster she currently faced. Since taking over the role of manager for the Modern Playwrights Festival after her mother retired, Sadie had grown to love the responsibility but hated the pitfalls thrown in her path. This particular pitfall was beginning to look more like a canyon. When the artistic director had turned in her retirement notice, Sadie knew she’d need to find a replacement soon or watch the festival collapse and Meadowview’s economy suffer.