“Oh shut up, Watson.”
Ethan smirked despite his bad mood. “You know, I don’t remember ever agreeing that you got to be Sherlock.”
Owen laughed. “I’m always Sherlock.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because I’m the charming, handsome one.”
Ethan popped up on his elbow. “What does that make me?”
“The brooding, intelligent one, my dear Watson,” Owen replied in a terrible British accent.
Ethan flopped back down onto the uncomfortable bed. “I’m going to get you back for this, you know?”
“For what? Inviting you to a nice Christmas where we can feel what it’s like to be part of a normal family for a change?”
“They’re not family,” Ethan muttered.
“Not yet.”
Ethan sat up again. “What does that mean?”
Owen ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Nothing. It’s just . . . would it kill you to try and enjoy a little holiday spirit?”
“Maybe I don’t want to enjoy anything,” Ethan said quietly, surprised at the truth in his words.
“Maybe that’s your problem, E,” Owen said gently. “You’ve gotta stop grieving and let yourself find some happiness, otherwise life’s not worth living.”
“Yes, screwing your grief away is a much healthier option.”
Owen’s hands hauled Ethan out of bed so quickly he yelped. “Watch what you say about my girlfriend, brother.”
Ethan shook free of Owen’s grasp. “Jesus, Owen. It was a joke.” Though really it wasn’t. Owen had a habit of losing himself in women whenever he needed a distraction. And since their mother died, there had been a long line of distractions. But Margot was the only one who’d ever stuck around this long, or been brave enough to invite him home.
“Well, I’m not joking,” Owen growled. “Margot’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, so don’t screw this up, okay. I’m in love with her.”
“That’s what you said about the last one,” Ethan muttered, startled by the ferocity in his tone.
“This time is different,” Owen replied, his voice firm.
“Sure,” Ethan replied.
“I’m serious, E. I want to make a good impression on Margot’s family, so no more saying awkward shit that makes everyone uncomfortable.”
“Oh, you mean you want me to lie to them? That’s always a great way to make an impression.”
“You don’t have to lie, but you don’t have to lay everything out in the open either.”
“Are you referring to dinner?” Ethan asked.
“You know I am.”
“You know where I stand on that,” Ethan replied, defending his comment about not being invited to their family Christmas. Ethan didn’t believe in sugar-coating things. He was unfortunately like his father in that respect. “If Margot and her family can’t handle the truth then maybe you shouldn’t be with her.”
“No wonder you’re single, E. You might as well wear a sign around your neck that screams, ‘bitter and damaged, with a side of mommy issues’.”
Ethan stood up so swiftly he barely had time to control his clenched fists. He had an urge to punch something and if he didn’t get out of this tiny bedroom soon, that something was going to be Owen’s face.
He stomped to the hall and slammed the door behind him.
Chloe
It was just after midnight when Chloe awoke to a loud bang. She’d been sleeping soundly, but she had no idea how with the decibel of Margot’s snoring. Ugh. How had she forgotten that Margot snored like a lumberjack?
This was going to be a rough ten days.
Chloe gave it her best effort, but she eventually gave up hope of falling back to sleep. Staring at the ceiling was doing her no good. Even counting her glow-in-the-dark stars couldn’t help her mind from wandering back to her insensitive comment at the dinner table. Why the hell had she asked about Owen and Ethan’s family? She wasn’t trying to be rude. She just couldn’t take the heat of Ethan’s smoldering gaze. It was like looking into the eyes of a ghost—beautiful and haunting.
But worse than the guilt Chloe felt for putting the boys on the spot about crashing Christmas was the wounded look she’d seen in their eyes. What kind of family didn’t invite their own children to spend the holidays with them?
Chloe knew better than to ask. Putting her foot in her mouth once was enough for one holiday. She wanted to let it go, but the longer she lay in bed the more she wondered what their story was. It was like she’d read the first chapter of an enticing mystery novel and then someone had snatched it away. Her inquisitive mind couldn’t let it go. And the ideas her over-active imagination cooked up weren’t going to let her get to sleep any time soon.
What if her sister had brought home serial killers that only murdered during Christmas? Far fetched, but plausible . . . Why else would they not be invited to their own family Christmas?
Chloe groaned and climbed out of bed. She decided to give up on sleep. Her mind was much too alert. Reading ahead on her course work for the fall would be a much better use of her time. She’d gotten into Columbia’s nursing program and could use as much time as she could get to prepare for the intensive major. Anticipation filled her chest as she realized this would be the perfect time to take advantage of the quiet house and get some work done. She could curl up in front of the fireplace with some hot cocoa right now and start her prerequisite reading. God knew she wouldn’t have a chance to do it tomorrow now that Margot was home.
With her heart set on a warm mug of heavenly chocolate, Chloe pulled on her bathrobe, stepped into her slippers, grabbed a laptop, her glasses and scooped Darcy off the bed. The little dog groaned in protest when she placed him on his feet. “Come on, boy. I’ll give you another treat.”
Darcy’s ears perked up at the sound of his favorite word and he raced out of the room ahead of Chloe. It sounded like he was taking the stairs two at a time. Chloe grinned, shaking her head as she walked into the hall. She’d never known a dog so obsessed with treats. Although, Chloe felt the same way about hot cocoa so she couldn’t really blame him. She had about a dozen different flavors in the pantry.
Distracted by thoughts of which cocoa to try first she didn’t see the shadow coming from the bathroom until it was too late. Chloe smacked into a hard, cold chest and stumbled backwards. She would’ve fallen on her ass if a pair of solid arms hadn’t wrapped around her like a pair of vice grips.
A tiny yelp escaped Chloe as she was crushed to an impeccably sculpted chest. She couldn’t help noticing his anatomical perfection. Nor could she help breathing in the intoxicating college boy smell that clung to his skin. And the feel of his heart as it pounded against her cheek was impressive enough to stop time.
When Chloe caught her breath the world unfroze again. She stumbled away from the cocoon of warmth she’d been wrapped in. Disappointment seized her when she looked into the startled green eyes of Ethan, or was it Owen? It was hard to tell with her glasses mashed into her face. Oh God, don’t let it be Owen.
She did not need to be having these feelings about her sister’s boyfriend. Chloe had enough boy trouble as it was. “Sorry,” she mumbled, backing away.
“Are you alright?” he asked, cautiously.
Definitely Ethan. His steely tone made her sure of it. “Fine,” she muttered fixing her glasses.
“Do you always wear glasses?” he asked.
What a strange question. “Only when I read.”
Ethan gave her a crooked grin. “I like them.”
Chloe frowned. “Ethan, right?”
He nodded and the knot in Chloe’s stomach eased.
“Good, because if you were Owen I was going to have a talk with my sister about dating guys who flirt with her little sister.”
His dark eyebrows knitted together. “You’re not that little, and who says I’m flirting?”
Chloe’s cheeks instantly flamed. “No one—I mean—I thought . . .” Stop talking,
Chloe! But for some reason she couldn’t. It was like his gorgeousness fried her neurons or made them work backwards so only half coherent verbal diarrhea just spewed from her mouth.
Ethan gave her half a grin, amused for some reason.
“You should really put a shirt on,” Chloe blurted out, then spun on her heels and raced down the hall.
8
Ethan
Ethan watched Chloe run down the hall and disappear downstairs, but the feel of her in his arms lingered. The impression of her soft cheek against his chest had immediately erased any anger that had remained toward his brother. And her glasses completely obliterated the similarities between Chloe and Margot from Ethan’s mind. He wished she’d wear them all the time.
The sisters might be alike at first glance but the more time he spent with Chloe, the more Ethan began to see the subtle differences. There was also the obvious. Chloe was shorter and curvier with beautiful full lips and the perfect hourglass figure. Ethan preferred girls like that as opposed to Margot’s rail-thin frame. And Chloe smelled like sugar cookies. That was way better than Margot’s overpowering perfume of the week. Chloe’s hazel eyes were lighter than her sister’s and the warm glow of the white Christmas lights in the hall had illuminated the gold flecks that shimmered in Chloe’s green-brown irises. But perhaps the most interesting difference in Chloe was the way she made Ethan feel.
Unlike Owen, Ethan didn’t let himself fall for every pretty girl who batted her eyelashes at him. Actually, Ethan didn’t date at all. Despite what he said to Owen about not hiding the truth, Ethan hated the idea of letting someone close enough to see just how messed up he was. Plus, he didn’t see the advantage of getting attached to people. All that did was give them the potential to one day hurt him.
Yet, there was something about Chloe that drew him in and made him want to drop all his defenses. She had this soft, vulnerable aura that surrounded her, inviting him in, even when her words didn’t. So when his feet carried him to follow her downstairs instead of back to his bedroom, he wasn’t that surprised.
Chloe
Chloe was standing in the kitchen, stirring hot vanilla soy milk into her gingerbread hot cocoa mix when she felt Ethan’s presence behind her. She didn’t know how she knew it was him, but she did. And she hated the way the thought of him made her heart race.
“That smells good,” he said. “Got enough for one more?”
She sighed, reminding herself to be a gracious host. Her mother would kill her if she were anything but polite to Margot’s friends. And honestly, making Ethan a cup of hot cocoa was the least Chloe could do after insulting him at dinner, tackling him in the hall and then assuming he was flirting with her.
“Sure,” she replied, pulling another ceramic mug from the cabinet.
Chloe rolled her eyes realizing the mug was one she’d made when she was in elementary school. It had her name painted above a snowman face with a sloppy red and green handle that was meant to be his scarf. She shouldn’t be surprised. They only had Christmas mugs in her house. Just one more perk of living Christmas every day of her life.
The Christmas craziness of her home and life was the norm for Chloe, but from the way Ethan gawked at her family’s overdone decorations, it was obvious this was far outside his comfort zone. She thought about looking for a less Christmas-y mug for him, but rummaging around in the cupboard for a new mug would only make it seem like Chloe cared—which she didn’t.
So Chloe filled the embarrassing snowman mug with hot cocoa and handed it to Ethan, determined to keep her winter break plans of healing her broken heart—which would never happen if she fell for the gorgeous college boy standing shirtless in her kitchen. She was through with boys and all the drama they brought to her life. At least she wanted to be . . . but the way Ethan stared at her sure made it difficult.
“Aren’t you cold?” she asked.
“Actually, I’m freezing. I’m not sure I packed appropriately for this weather.”
Chloe smirked, finding it hard to believe Ethan hadn’t brought at least a t-shirt. “Where did you think you were going, Barbados?”
“Bermuda, actually.”
“What?”
“I was supposed to be on an island right about now sipping daiquiris until my brother changed his mind about where we were spending Christmas.”
She laughed. “Wow and he chose upstate New York instead? Bad choice.”
“It wasn’t exactly a choice,” Ethan said taking a sip of his hot cocoa. His eyes flashed to hers as he swallowed, filling her with heat. “This tastes amazing, by the way.”
“Thanks,” Chloe added quietly. She took a sip of her own hot cocoa, trying to forget the way it felt being pinned by his blazing eyes. Instead, she wondered what he’d meant by, ‘It wasn’t exactly a choice.’
Maybe Margot had forced the issue. She knew how persuasive her sister was when she wanted something. She glanced at Ethan while taking another sip of cocoa. Maybe he was just as weirded out as she was to be spending Christmas with strangers.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
“For what?”
“For what I said earlier about your family.”
Ethan shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”
“No, it kind of is. I’m not usually a jerk, it’s just . . .”
“Your sister bringing two strangers home for Christmas royally screwed up your plans?”
She smiled. “For a stranger, you’re pretty good at reading my mind.”
Ethan gave her that almost-grin of his again and it sent shivers down Chloe’s spine. Shivers he mimicked.
“Let’s get you a shirt,” she said walking to the hall closet.
There were sweatshirts, jackets and blankets stuffed in every spare closet of the Price house. In Pine Island you never knew when you’d need one. Smirking to herself, Chloe pulled out one of the many spare ugly Christmas sweaters from the lodge and handed it to Ethan.
He looked at the real jingle bells adorning the light up wreath on the front of the sweater and frowned. “You can’t be serious?”
“Do you want to freeze?”
Ethan gave the sweater a shake, making the bells tinkle. Darcy barked at it. “See, even the dog thinks it’s hideous.”
Chloe laughed. “Darcy just thinks it’s a snack. He thinks he can eat everything, isn’t that right?” she asked scooping the little dog up.
Ethan took a step closer and scratched the dog’s head. “Darcy? As in Mr. Darcy?”
Chloe’s eyes widened. “You read Jane Austen?”
“Guilty,” he replied.
“Why?”
Ethan huffed a laugh. “Can’t a guy just enjoy Austen?”
“No.”
He laughed again. “Alright, you got me. Owen’s an English major. I read his books when I’m bored.”
“Shut up!” Chloe exclaimed. “That’s what I wanted to be.”
“Wanted to be?”
Embarrassment prickled Chloe’s skin. “Yeah. I decided it wasn’t a very practical major. I’m going for nursing instead. Or at least I will be next fall.”
“Really? Where are you going?”
“Columbia.”
Ethan’s dark eyebrows rose. “Impressive.”
“Thanks, I know,” she replied sarcastically. “I’m also graduating top of my class, with my AA so I’ll actually be taking junior level courses next year.” Chloe bent down to place the dog on the floor and give him a treat. When she stood up she asked, “Where do you go to college?”
Ethan’s steady eyes met hers. “Columbia. I’m a freshman.”
Chloe’s heart skipped a beat. Did he just say Columbia? Would she be at the same school as him next year? She couldn’t fight the giddy excitement that suddenly welled up inside her.
“What?” he asked, noting the flurry of emotions coursing through her.
“Nothing . . . it’s just I realized I’ll actually know someone when I start in the fall. But I’ll be one year ahead of you, in case you
weren’t sure.”
Ethan
Ethan could barely fight the urge to smile as he caught the teasing tone in Chloe’s voice. Now he was even more intrigued by her. The girl was beautiful and smart. Plus, she liked the classics enough to name her dog after one.
He secretly adored them, but he felt declaring himself an English major would be following in his brother’s footsteps too closely. Besides, he really wasn’t sure that’s what he wanted to do with his life. Actually, nothing really interested him enough to choose a career path. He was sort of just limping along, undeclared.
Owen was right. Ethan did need to try to find something to make life enjoyable. But that was easier said than done. He glanced at Chloe again. What do you say, Chloe? Are you something I’d enjoy?
The thought entered Ethan’s head so swiftly it surprised him. What the hell was he thinking?
Ethan tried to clear his head. The last thing he needed was to get involved with Margot’s sister. But he couldn’t deny that there was something about Chloe he was drawn to. Maybe a little flirting wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world?
A silence had settled over them and Ethan realized he was staring. He put his mug of cocoa on the counter and sighed looking at the little dog. “She’s gonna make me wear this isn’t she, Darcy?”
The dog cocked his head to the side as if he was trying to understand and Chloe smirked, reaching for the hideous sweater Ethan held. “I can get you something different.”
Ethan pulled it out of her reach. “Oh, I see how it is. Once you know someone shares your taste in books they don’t have to wear the ugly sweaters?”
She laughed and a coy smirk lifted one corner of her perfect lips. “Maybe.”
“That’s rather snobbish, Chloe, ” he teased.
She rolled her eyes and tried to tug the sweater from him. “Maybe I’m a snob.”
Ethan didn’t let go. “I think you are.” He tugged the sweater back toward him, pulling Chloe with it. “But I think I’m kinda attached to this hideous sweater now.”
The Winter Boyfriend: A Stand-Alone YA Contemporary Romance Novel (The Boyfriend Series) Page 5
