by Lynn Faye
“No, I know someone who pairs people together. She uses her own system and it’s been quite successful.”
Desperate times called for desperate measures. “Okay, do it.”
As soon as she hung up the phone, she doubted she made the right decision. It was the only option at the moment. Where else would she find a suitable man who could be a good father to her daughter?
Getting up from the sofa, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Ethan leaning against the banister at the foot of the stairs. She itched to ask him how long he’d been standing there, but she got her answer before she could.
“A matchmaking service? You’re joking… right?”
“What? You think you’re a better option?”
Without an answer, he stalked over to stand within inches of her. “Give me the reason why you’re so against me. If your reason is good enough, I won’t bother you anymore.”
“I hate you,” flew from her lips.
“Really?”
“I don’t love you.”
“And you would love some guy whose name you don’t even know, who this matchmaker hasn’t even yet chosen. Nice try.”
“At least they’ll have a job and can provide for the family.”
“Is that the reason, because I don’t have a job, or are you afraid?”
Kristen thought that was a ridiculous question. “Afraid of what?”
Ethan stepped closer, so close that she felt his body heat and his male scent tickled her nose.
Her face flushed, much to her chagrin as her heart skipped another beat. “What else could there be?” she asked, but her voice came out hoarse.
“You’re afraid of what might happen between us.”
Pressing her palm against his chest she pushed hard, but it was as though pressing against a brick wall. His body heat scorched her hands, causing her to pull them back. “Out of my way,” she croaked, hating the way her voice sounded. “You’re crazy.”
“I can see the fear in your eyes. And the way you’re trying to run away from me now, you know I’m right.”
“Your reverse psychology mumbo-jumbo won’t work on me, Ethan,” she declared, her voice now clearer. “Now out of my damn way!”
He stepped aside, but not before he whispered, “You’re afraid.”
Irritating sonofabitch! Afraid my ass. I hate the damn lunatic, she cursed as she made her way to her studio. Afraid? What hell would I be afraid of? Nothing would happen between us, it was all in his own damn head, she argued. Not after what happened years ago, she would never get involved with Ethan… never.
Kristen spent the rest of the day locked in her studio. Her mood had soured and refused to mellow. In addition to Ethan’s presence, Camila was not answering her emails, nor did she pick up the phone. Her thoughts kept wandering back and forth between Ethan and Camila. She needed her friend now more than ever before.
Camila was good at helping her sort her feelings. Every time she thought about Ethan, she became angrier. Why was he back and what did he really want? By nightfall, she’d stressed herself out over her situation and the aggravation that Ethan was now causing her.
“He needs money… right?” she whispered to herself. “I’ll just give him the money he needs and he should be on his way.”
With this enlightened thought, her mood began to lift. She left her studio around six that evening. Ethan was not there when she checked, so she made herself a salad with some leftover roasted chicken that was a few days old.
She had her checkbook out on the coffee table after her supper, while she waited for his return. Three hours later, she went up to bed, wondering where he was. Before going to her room, she checked to see if he’d moved out. His things were still there. The bastard hadn’t gone.
Chapter 4
The sound of anguish and the putrid smell of dead flesh assailed him. He was standing in a field where an explosion happened a few minutes earlier. The explosives had been hidden beneath the top layer of soil and had gone off as the men entered the field. They’d been ambushed and were pushed back toward the open field in defense.
He stood in the center, some of his men lifeless on the ground while others writhed in pain. The enemy stood on the sidelines with satisfied smiles. As he made to move toward the enemy, swearing revenge for his colleagues, he stopped on something that clicked.
Ethan’s eyes shot open as he sat up abruptly. His heart raced as beads of sweat ran down his forehead. A sheen of moisture glistened in his chest as he tried to catch his breath. This dream had haunted him for months now. What was weird about the dream was that he was Navy Seal, Special Warfare Operator. He’d never been to the battlefield he saw in his vision.
But, he knew the situation to which this dream related.
Two years, five months and seven days ago to the date, another Missile launched off the coast of North Korea. This left a US naval ship severely damaged and three officers injured.
A seven-man platoon was sent to conduct a Mission into the underwater North Korean security base. Ethan was the commander in charge. By the time they passed through the first security post with ease of access, he knew something was wrong. It was far too easy. They’d geared up in their diving suits, oxygen masks, and underwater communication devices. He was almost to the second post when his gut told him to retreat. He signaled to the men to pull back.
“What’s the matter sir?” one of his platoon asked.
“Stand back. This might be a trap,” he said. “Admiral, are you there?” he asked, hoping his superior was still in communication. This was a strictly monitored Mission as they were now in Korean sovereign waters.
“Roger, Commander.”
“Sir, I believe this is a trap, we should retreat.”
“Proceed, commander. You will follow orders and complete this Mission!”
“Roger.”
Trained to follow orders, Ethan proceeded but sent back three of the men to stay guard outside the first post. He and the three remaining men continued as ordered, but the general was not pleased that he did not take the full crew.
They were past the second security post when an underwater mine detonated, killing one of the men. About a dozen Korean naval officers surrounded them, taking them captive. He could still see everything as clearly as if it happened yesterday. He shook his head refusing to remember anymore.
A knock at his bedroom door startled him. His racing heart leaped and took off once more.
“Ethan, are you okay?” Kristen’s voice came through the door. When he did not answer, she knocked a few more times. “Ethan, I’m coming in.” Before he had time to think clearly, the door burst open and the switch on the wall flicked on. The room flooded with light. “What happened?” Kristen asked, rushing in. “I heard you screaming.”
She stopped short when she noticed that the sheet was not securely covering his entire body and that he was not wearing anything but his birthday suit. “Oh, pull up the sheet, will you?” she instructed, shielding her eyes.
The dream of a few minutes ago was still running through his mind and his heart hadn’t slowed its intermittent thudding. The sweat was running into his eyes as well. Her voice seemed distant as he was drawn into the battlefield.
“Ethan?” he heard her call his name once more and he tried to focus on her. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” his voice grated.
“I’ll get you some water,” she replied, hurrying back through the door.
He was in the same position, thinking about the same dream when she returned and pushed a glass of water into his hand. Gripping the glass was difficult as his fingers were stiff and his hand shaky. Kristen held the glass to his lips and encouraged him to drink. The cool water slid down his hot throat. Gradually, his heart rate returned to almost normal.
“Thanks,” he said when he emptied the glass.
“Bad dream?” she asked and he nodded.
Kristen was looking at him strangely as she took the glass, which she set down on
the nightstand. Their hands brushed and he was reminded of her effect on him. Her touch in that moment was like an electric shock, shaking his core. Her presence, mingled with the remnants of the nightmare was almost unbearable.
“How long have you been having these dreams?”
“A while,” he replied. “It’s nothing, just the same recurring dream is all.”
“Are you okay? That doesn’t seem normal.”
He sprang from the bed and grabbed the sheet, wrapping it around his torso. His manhood had sprung to life with her nearness and this agitated him the most. He knew she saw it from the flicker in her eyes. Was it contempt he saw in them?
“I’m fine, really. It was just a dream. You can go back to bed now.”
She stood, her eyes raking over him and resting a moment on his crotch. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, thanks.”
She seemed reluctant to leave and this irritated him. Just that morning she was pretending to care about his wound and now the fake concern. What was her deal? Was she horny or was she toying with him?
“You don’t need to be concerned.”
Her lips pursed tightly and her eyes blazed, revealing the Kristen he was used to seeing. How quickly her true nature revealed itself. He could handle her anger much easier than her counterfeit concern.
“Have it your way,” she retorted. “Sorry I bothered you. You can go back to whatever it was you were dreaming about.” Storming through the door, she slammed it behind her.
Ethan headed to the bathroom, dropping the sheet on the floor and stepping into the shower. Turning the water on cool, he let it spray over his hot skin. Steam rose from his body like vapor, frosting the glass door.
“I’m too damn tense,” he grunted.
Release was what he needed, the kind only a woman could give him. He’d kept himself away from the female of the species for the last six months and now it was taking its toll. Along with the constant nightmares was the extreme sexual tension.
His manhood was still erect from earlier and refused to behave. With frustration, he curled his large hand around its thickness and began a rough, almost violent stroke. His anger boiled as his hand jerked over his cock. Kristen’s voice streamed through his mind and her lips kissed his dick.
“Fucking bitch!” he growled, increasing the tempo of his rhythm.
Her beautiful eyes bore into him as he pictured her writhing beneath his body. His fantasy was almost like a memory, but it brought the result he needed as his milk hit the tiled bathroom wall and disappeared into the water.
With a grunt, he completed his ejaculation and closed his eyes. The fantasy remained, as her passionate whimpers echoed in his ears, as their bodies writhed together beneath crumpled sheets. He heard his own roar of ecstasy filled the room as their orgasms came in unison.
His eyes shot open and he scowled deeply. “What the fuck was that?” he asked the empty bathroom.
That sure seemed like a memory and not a fantasy. It was too vivid. The feelings were too poignant for it to be just imagination. But it couldn’t be. They had never been together, he was certain of that. Ethan closed his eyes and tried to recall the scene. He could still see it in his mind’s eyes from a few seconds ago, but the feeling of being involved in it evaporated.
“I’m losing my fucking mind,” he grumbled. “That would explain this shit.”
The moment when he envisioned them in bed, he could taste her lips, feel her tight pussy close around his huge cock. The passion had been intense. He would never have forgotten something so profound, for that’s how it felt. No. It was just a fantasy, a powerful one that left him almost breathless. Ethan turned off the faucet, vowing to rid himself of the feelings he had of Kristen.
This wasn’t normal. It wasn’t as though he liked her. However, he needed her. He didn’t know why, but that’s how he felt. Grabbing a towel, he rubbed himself dry as he tried to figure what happened while in the shower. Jacking off to a fantasy was one thing, but the feelings that enveloped him in that moment were something he must decipher.
He went back to bed. Checking the time before he turned off the lamp on the nightstand, it was 01:23. He closed his eyes and before long, he drifted into a peaceful sleep.
Chapter 5
Kristen paced the living room. Ethan hadn’t come down and it was already past 8:30 in the morning. In addition, she could not reach Camila in New York. Was something wrong? She was worried about them both. She didn’t know why she worried about Ethan, but she did. Last night was weird. She’d heard him yell in his sleep, and without thinking had rushed to his bedroom.
Heat flushed her skin at the memory of seeing his naked torso gleaming with a layer of sweat. Her belly had burned at the sight of his erect thickness, as it stood before her. The memory caused her nipples to tighten against her lace bra.
“This is crazy. I must be really horny to be reacting to him this way,” she mumbled.
The doorbell ringing jarred her out of her reverie. Who could it be? She wasn’t expecting anyone unless it was her lawyer. Thinking he may have found her a suitor, she rushed to see whom it was. As she pulled the door open, she regretted it. Standing there was Helen, looking quite uncomfortable.
“What are you doing here?” Kristen inquired.
The woman stepped past her and walked stiffly to the living room. When she had looked around with her nose upturned, she gave her reply.
“Here is the last place I want to be. I’m only here because of Hailey.”
Kristen’s stomach wrenched. “What’s wrong with my daughter? Is she okay? I swear…”
“Hailey is fine, sort of.”
“What do you mean, sort of?”
Helen bristled at Kristen’s tone. “Don’t raise your voice, Kristen. She asked to see you so I agreed she could meet you for lunch. She gave me a message for you.”
“What message? Why didn’t you just bring her here? This is her home.”
“And let you run away to Columbia with her, or wherever it is you’re from?”
“You know I was born here,” she interrupted, but Helen didn’t seem to hear her.
“It seems you’ve forgotten the Judge’s rule, that she stays with me until such time,” Helen continued. “Have you found yourself a man yet?”
Ignoring her, Kristen asked, “What is the message?”
“She says she Misses Mr. Carrot Top… whoever that is.”
Kristen’s heart ached for her daughter. Mr. Carrot Top was an old stuffed rabbit with orange ears. Whenever Hailey was feeling sad, she snuggled with him. She’d sleep with the bunny when she’d had a rough day at school or when Andrew had broken a promise. She also slept with him whenever she was sick.
“Is she sick?” she asked, just to make sure of what her daughter was trying to tell her.
“No,” the woman replied, lifting her chin. “Of course not. Don’t you think I would have taken her to the doctor if that was the case?”
“I’ll take Mr. Carrot Top with me when I come to the house for lunch,” Kristen said. “I’m going to have to get it from the attic.”
“We will meet at Chez Marion for lunch.”
“Are you seriously taking a seven-year-old to a restaurant like that?”
“That’s a five-star restaurant, what’s wrong with taking my granddaughter there?”
Kristen rolled her eyes. “She’s seven. Do you really think she’ll eat braised salmon with artichokes or some roasted quail with sautéed onions?”
“Why wouldn’t she?”
“Is that what you’ve been feeding her, food like that? Has she been eating?”
Helen seemed surprised at Kristen’s questions. “I raised two children of my own, don’t you think I would know how to feed one child?”
“You mean your nanny raised your boys and the cook made the meals. Did you for once ask Hailey what she liked to eat?” Kristen looked at Helen’s nonplussed expression. “You don’t need to answer that.”
Helen walked off tow
ards the front door. “You just be there on time. I will ask the chef to make something special for Hailey.”
“Good luck with that.”
“Don’t you make this difficult. You had better not tell her to misbehave today,” Helen warned before stepping through the door. When she was on the portico, she stopped and turned with a final warning. “If you cause trouble today, I will just have to ask the judge to move up your wedding date.”
The hatred in Helen’s eyes and the venom in her tone told Kristen the woman was not bluffing. Biting down a cutting reply, she watched as her mother-in-law walked to her chauffer-driven Lincoln. Before the car drove away, Kristen slammed the front door.
How was she to control a fussy seven-year-old? She worried about her daughter, and whether or not she was eating. A plan formed in her mind, something that may help her get out of this mess. If all went well today, she’d have her daughter home in no time. She’d just need to record the lunch date and hoped something could be of use from it.
In the meantime, she needed to find Mr. Carrot Top and head to the restaurant. She had a little over three hours to spare. The first thing she did was head up the steps leading to the attic. The attic was more like a third-floor apartment. Along with boxes of old toys and clothing was a folding bed and old furniture. She could always fix it up and rent it in the event that she lost the case with Helen. Not that she needed money, but she’d need something to make her feel useful.
“What are you thinking Kristen? You cannot afford to lose this battle.”
She found the stuffed toy in a box, which had Hailey’s old blanket and a few other toys. She picked up the stuffed animal and headed down to the washroom. She threw the bunny in the dryer and set it on steam. She usually did this to reduce any instances of bacteria and dust in the stuffed toys.
While she waited for the bunny to steam, she wondered if Ethan was okay. She still hadn’t seen him all morning and his motorcycle was still parked out front. She worried that he was experiencing some sort of PSTD. Many military men experienced this after returning home.