by Eden Butler
Like tonight, with his sister and her husband toasting us, under the watchful eyes of Ethan’s law partners and clients who shook his hand when we walked to our table, and the well-connected folk that nodded at him anytime they caught his eye. New Orleans excess was on display.
“To the happy couple,” Micah, Ethan’s brother-in-law said, clinking his glass to Ethan’s as we all returned the greeting.
My smile was so wide, so fake, and a small twitch worked across my cheek as I held it, hoping like hell no one, not Ethan or his sister Steph or her husband or any of the curious gazes watching us, could tell that I had never been so unsure of anything in my life.
“Let me see the ring again.” Steph pulled my hand across the table before I could even set my glass down. “Oh, Ethan, it’s just so lovely.”
It was. All of it: the ring, the wine, the beautiful lawyer who wanted to give me everything, anything, the one who swore he didn’t expect a thing from me. Just my love. My loyalty.
The soft jazz music from a quartet playing out on the courtyard filtered into the large restaurant, past the bar and right toward us at the table fitted with white linen and elegant, silver flatware. Ethan took his sister’s compliment, relaxed against the burgundy leather back of his chair as she held the ring up to the chandelier light. She guessed it was Tiffany’s. She guessed the carat size. All the while, Ethan nodded and kept his hand on the back of my neck, absently stroking his thumbnail against the baby hairs that had fallen from my clip.
“More wine?”
A small prayer flitted around my thoughts as the waiter refilled our glasses and I took the interruption to pull back my hand, to rest it in my lap so that Steph wouldn’t see my fingers shaking. So Ethan wouldn’t.
“Twenty minutes more, I promise,” he whispered against my ear. There was a trace of humor in his words, the smallest seduction and my fingers shook worse knowing what he’d ask of me tonight. My head was muddled, filled with warring thoughts of confusion and desperate desire. I wanted him but wasn’t sure I should. I’d given Ransom so much, sacrificing my happiness, my dreams just to be with him, hanging onto every broken promise he gave, crushed when he never kept one. What if I got into this, really gave myself to Ethan and ended up right where I’d been when I left Miami? Flighty and confused were things I never wanted to be. I’d slap myself silly if it wouldn’t have made me look like a loon. I knew what Ethan wanted. Especially since he’d put that ring on my finger.
“It’s fine.” My glance was quick, and hopefully convinced him that I was only tired, not nervous. Still, when Ethan tilted his head, when he moved so close that I could smell the bourbon truffles we shared on his breath, I worried that he’d finally learned to read me.
“What is it?” His cologne had faded, but still lingered on his skin—another form of excess; his warm scent reminding me of leather and sandalwood soap and something purely male.
As always, I was able to pass off his worry, distract him with the small brush of my fingertips resting in his palm. “Long damn day, cheri.”
At my endearment, Ethan forgot his question. He forgot that I was not solely tired, that there might be some worry I didn’t share with him and he moved in closer, kissing my neck just below my ear.
“There is nothing sexier than your Creole sweet talk.” His lips against mine, the pressure of his fingers in my hair, my vanilla reaction seemed enough to satisfy him. “Well,” he said, inching back to stare at my mouth. “I imagine there are far sexier things where you’re concerned, beautiful. But…”
He let that hang, as though I didn’t know what he wanted from me. As though I had not spent the past nearly four months rejecting his advances, laying one excuse after another in front of him when his kisses became too heated, when his hands roamed too surely over my body.
“Ethan…” But he bypassed the rejection before it came, sitting upright when his sister cleared her throat.
“Aly, we’ll have to coordinate our schedules.” Steph was demanding, a perfect counterpart to her twin brother. Where Ethan exuded subtlety, a coolness when he was after something, Steph went all determined, mildly insistent. Even their looks were a disparity. Steph reminded me of a winter nymph, pale skin, bright blue eyes and dark blonde hair. There was a fairy quality to her features—the bones beneath her fair skin elegant, fragile, a subtlety that made her look ethereal, a wholly feminine quality that drew attention; one that I envied.
Ethan looked more exotic, with his dark, wavy hair, piercing gray eyes and olive skin that seemed to always catch a tan within a half hour of being under the sun. His features were more angular than his twin’s, with a rugged quality hidden beneath the polished, well-groomed surface; like a woodsman pulsing beneath the educated lawyer, threatening to break free given half the chance. I had noticed those differences and similarities the moment I saw them in the same room together.
“Once you’ve set a date, we’ll need to find a venue. Hmm, let me see…”
Ethan shook his head, his smile easy when his twin pulled out her phone, and the calendar app lighted against her face. Before I could stop her, Ethan waved me off. “Steph, pump the brakes. I’ve only just asked her tonight.”
“Yes, but I know how you are.” She glanced at me as though she expected me to have her back before her gaze returned to her brother’s face. “You don’t like waiting…”
“Steph,” Micah started, but was rebuffed when his wife scowled at him.
“This isn’t a secret, is it?” Again the blonde looked at me, ignoring how tense her brother had suddenly become. “You’ve told her why…why we’re so…spontaneous?”
“Wi, cheri. But even without an explanation I would have known,” I offered, hoping my smile would ease the tension around the table or at least get Ethan’s shoulders to relax and his finger clenching the napkin to untighten. “I’ve seen you both skydive over the Mississippi to see who could withhold their chute the longest and let’s not forget the ridiculous Ferrari drag racing along the dirt roads in Manchac. I think I’ve sorted out that you two don’t live by normal rules.”
Trying to make an awkward situation less so was nearly impossible. Then that sibling difference kicked in. Steph’s flustered, impatient face contrasted Ethan’s easy expression.
“But it’ll be within months, right? I can’t imagine…” Steph started.
“Months?” The question slipped from my mouth without any thought at all and then the tension crystalized around us.
Ethan purposefully broke the moment by pulling my hand onto his thigh all while smiling knowingly. “That’s not something we need to get into yet. There’s time.”
The eagerness in his eyes made them seem lighter. He was placating me, I knew that. But it wasn’t some passive aggressive move meant to make me feel bad for my worry. Ethan lived with urgency, with fervor, with a keenness that would have cut others to shreds. He’d explained it to me the first time he kissed me—all passion and eagerness, verging on desperation. When I pushed back that night, confused and afraid because he had never shown that side of himself before, he opened up and told me about his past, and why he felt so compelled to live life full throttle.
“I wasn’t always like this,” he’d said, leaning against his door. “But Aly, I don’t waste a single second.”
It had been the wreck that took their parents when he and Steph were twenty, the devastation it left behind, how Ethan had spent a year in a rehab facility learning to walk again—it made him spontaneous, wild, frantic for what he wanted instantaneously.
“One minute we’re driving up the mountains in Gatlinburg laughing with our folks, talking about dinner and the white water rafting tour we’d take the next day. It was all so…normal. There was absolutely no difference in the moments before Dad took that curve too fast and the ones we had our entire lives. Just like that,” he’d snapped his fingers, making me jump in the dead silence of his car, “they were gone. Just. Gone.”
Time was too precious and neither Ethan
or Steph were willing to waste any of it.
That meant a proposal that came quickly. Too quickly. It meant I’d have to face the warring doubts in my mind—the ones that told me how foolish I’d been to say yes and how desperate I was to put my life with Ransom behind me—long before I was ready to even think of how drastically my life was going to change.
Ethan squeezed my fingers, relaxing me with a quick wink. “Aly will text you once we know more, sis.” He threw his napkin on the table and leaned over to kiss Steph before she could argue, hurrying in his goodbye, I guessed to keep his sister from pressing the issue. “Until then, try to maintain your calm.”
Ethan dismissed her protests with several large bills on the table before he led me through the restaurant with his hand on my back. It felt warm, comforting and despite being flustered I have to admit that I enjoyed it. Any woman with a pulse and half decent taste in men would be crazy about him. He was tall, just over six feet, built like a runner, not large and massive like I was used to but lithe, fit, limbs that were long, corded and a waist that was trim. He wore the hell out of a suit and walked through a room like it was made for him alone.
Ethan was attractive, successful and intelligent. So why the hell wasn’t I absolutely stupid for him?
“You still tired?” He was just behind me, pulling my thin sweater over my shoulders and I caught that sweet scent from his skin again. “You sure that’s all it is?”
He stood so close that when I glanced up at him, his stubble brushed against my cheek.
Ethan’s mouth was relaxed, nearly turned up on one side like he thought of smiling, but wanted to know what I was thinking before he did. This was nothing like Ransom. He’d know with one look my way that I was tired or scared or completely turned on. He read me better than anyone.
Those eyes, black and brilliant, searing into my skin like a burn—only Ransom would know my thoughts. Only he would challenge me enough so that I wasn’t sure of my decision. Of what I wanted and with who.
My lips still stung faintly from Ransom’s kiss and if he were here, I’d have more presence of mind to smack him for his presumption, something I imagined doing as I licked my bottom lip. But Ransom wasn’t here. Or at least he wouldn’t be tomorrow. He was probably on a plane already, heading back to Miami.
“You look worn out.” Ethan turned my shoulders so that my back bumped against the lobby wall as we waited for the valet. He wasn’t wrong, but the weariness in my bones went deeper than exhaustion. It was fear and worry and all the thoughts I wanted to keep to myself. The burdens I didn’t want anyone else to carry for me.
“Recitals always take it out of me.” He stepped in closer and I distracted myself with his tie, straightening the knot and tucking it back inside of his jacket. “I’ll probably sleep all day tomorrow.”
He wouldn’t keep his gaze from my features, soaking up each expression with some unspoken need to see if he could ferret out my thoughts just by watching me. I let him go on, imagining that soon enough he’d know me. He’d be able to see my anger, my worry, all the things I didn’t seem capable of letting him see just yet.
“That’s not all, is it?” Two fingertips down my temple, along my cheek and then Ethan tilted my head up at the chin.
“What do you…”
He moved his thumb over my bottom lip, effectively silencing me as though he guessed another excuse was headed his way. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
“Wi. Once or twice.” It was a stupid understatement. Ethan’s complements bordered on ridiculous. So much so that I’d stopped believing he meant them.
“No. That’s not what I mean.” He settled closer, moving his hand to my neck, as though the sparse inches between us was too much. I found it a little hard to breathe. “First time I saw you, you were covered in sweat, wearing that non-existent green leotard, barely able to keep your breath even as I fussed about the noise coming from your studio.”
The memory made me smile and I rested my hand against his chest, relaxing. “I remember.”
The air around us warmed and when Ethan’s gaze moved from my forehead, his fingers tracing around my features, gaze following, my breathing became clearer. He seemed to like the way I let him hold me, how the tightness in my limbs disappeared. “You were so mad at me for disturbing you.”
“You got the building manager to open my locked door at midnight.”
“I was working on a case.” He’d looked ridiculous—hair all tousled, tie missing, baby blue button up wrinkled and untucked. Despite my irritation, it was that scruffy, adorable vibe he gave off that eased some of my anger.
“And I was rehearsing.”
“You yelled at me.”
“I did.” I grinned, meaning it. “You deserved it.”
“When you stood there, all out of breath, fire blazing in those big green eyes, I thought you were the single most gorgeous woman I’d ever see in my life.”
There was an intensity in Ethan’s eyes that surprised me. I’d been with Ransom for six years. I knew a thing or two about intensity and passion. With Ethan, it was a little different. Subtler, maybe? A different kind of desperate, a fear of running out of time rather than desire, that was a little overwhelming. He turned me on much more than he should have. I’d been accustomed to the giant caveman type, demanding, expecting. I’d even gotten off on it, mostly. So Ethan’s subtle passion was a change that I welcomed. “You liked me mad.”
“I liked you.” He moved closer and I didn’t tense up or let my worry over the impromptu proposal keep me wary. Ethan didn’t seem to care about anything other than the nearness of our bodies and the act of holding my face between his fingers. “Now I love you. Now I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“Yeah, I got that hint,” I said, laughing as I wiggled my ring at him.
A small shake of his head and Ethan’s voice softened. “But I also know that I sprung this on you. I…I honestly didn’t think you’d say yes.”
He watched the lift of my eyebrows, how I tilted my head. “Then why ask?”
“I couldn’t stop myself.”
Light from the street outside the glass door reflected inside that lobby, painting Ethan’s face so bright that his gray eyes lightened further. He was impulsive, something I loved about him, but even when the mood struck and that impulsive nature had him clamoring, desperate for my lips, the slide of my fingers in his hair, Ethan could keep cool. Even now, with his mild drop in caution, one that he seemed to forget would advertise his intentions toward me as he moved closer, Ethan still maintained his calm, stayed in control. It was a welcome change to what I was used to.
With my back against the wall and the flicker of New Orleans traffic zipping past us, Ethan’s gaze slipped left, right, then lowered to my mouth, his breath tickling my nose, then he touched my cheek, moving my face like a puppet master and I was too caught by the warmth in his eyes, the press of his fingertips against my skin to do more than move air in and out of my lungs.
“Here,” he said, the word a flit of breath over my mouth. “This is where I always want to be.”
This man had always kissed me with purpose. I felt what he thought, the passionate emotion that he tried so desperately to control in every stroke of his tongue against mine. Just then, he didn’t hold back. Just then, that passion would not be contained.
He pressed his weight again me, fingers firm over my face, releasing the slowest, hungry sound when I kissed him back. Why wouldn’t I? Ethan was beautiful. He was smart and fun and crazy about me. I was attracted to him, cared a hell of a lot about him. What woman wouldn’t crave the attention he gave so willingly?
“Aly…” Ethan moved just inches enough from my lips to breathe that small request before he kissed me again. “I want you so badly.”
“Ethan…” I wasn’t sure if his name from my mouth was a plea to him or a warning to myself. I only knew the day had nearly toppled me and just then, with the flash of Ransom’s smile, his tempti
ng yet frustrating words still buzzing in my mind, I knew that I didn’t want to be alone.
“Please, beautiful.” This Ethan spoke along my neck, damp lips sliding down to my collarbone. “I want to feel you all over me. Everywhere, Aly.”
It would be easy. Drop my guard, give in to the man who thought he loved me, the one who’d level no expectations at me. The one who wouldn’t expect me to linger in the shadows. Maybe the promises Ethan made wouldn’t be broken. Maybe not every man was like Ransom, promising and never delivering.
A slip of his tongue against the hollow of my throat, the quick brush of his hips grazing mine, advertising how much he wanted me and I almost gave in. But then, another flash of memory, a smile I loved, a smile not attached to the man I said I’d marry and I froze where I stood, biting the inside of my cheek when Ethan stopped kissing me.
He didn’t sigh or grumble that my body had caught up with my mind, that he felt my hesitance in the way I held myself. Instead, Ethan inched away, putting the smallest amount of space between us as he took my hands and laced our fingers together, watching the contrast of our skin. “Is it me?” His tone was wary, as though he knew how ridiculous that question was.
He kept on, looking down so as not to pressure me, as I focused on the knot in his tie. There were too many thoughts creeping into my mind. Too much emotion that I didn’t know how to handle. “I know you gave me a ring. I know that’s supposed to mean…”
“That’s not…no…” Ethan pulled my chin up, eyes a little wild, eager but then he moved his eyebrows together, giving his features an expression that I didn’t like seeing on that handsome face. “I didn’t ask you to marry me so I could get you in my bed.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?” It was an honest question and not the first time he’d asked me about my feelings, how uncertain I was. Next would come Ransom’s name. It always did and Ethan, bless him, would ask if I still loved him, if I needed more time. I would. Somehow, though I went to great lengths to convince myself otherwise, I knew I always would.