“I’ll order pizza.”
Her voice vibrated against his back, and then a fluttery kiss punctuated her statement.
He couldn’t find it within his dark soul to turn down her offer.
“Water?” He offered and she accepted. “Wish I had wine or something to offer you.”
“Oh, no—water is fine. I don’t drink alcohol.”
“Why not?”
“People like me shouldn’t.”
He wondered what she meant by that statement, but didn’t know how to ask.
“I don’t either.”
“Why not?”
“Let’s just say I’ve had enough of not having control over myself.”
She nodded in a way that told him she understood exactly what he was saying. The idea was ridiculous, because how could anyone understand being a tortured prisoner?
They didn’t speak much while they waited for the delivery kid to bring the pizza, but she seemed content to drift off to whatever place she went in her mind.
They ate in silence. He couldn’t stop staring at her. Everything about her was pure and good, even the delicate way she tore off pieces of pizza before slipping them between her pixie lips.
He didn’t know how long he had with her before she realized what a fool she was for getting involved with a dark beast like him, but he’d do something he had long forgotten how to do—he’d enjoy every moment.
“I have to go—totally forgot I have a car full of groceries. Freedom will kill me.”
He didn’t try to stop her, though he wanted to.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down for a kiss. He didn’t resist.
“Oh, the sledding fundraiser is coming up. I think you should come.”
He stiffened.
“We have a giant hill in the back of the property, and Rogan said he could gather some of his old buddies to build a luge track in one section. It will be the event of the season. Maybe of the year. And that’s saying a lot considering how many special events this town has.”
He reached behind his neck to untangle her hands, then stepped back.
“I’m sure you’ll do a great job. You can tell me all about it after.”
“Come on, Ethan. At least think about it. Please? For me?”
She batted her eyelashes and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning.
“You want to smile. I can see it.”
She tickled his sides. He grabbed her hands again, putting an end to the attack.
“You know you wanna come.”
“I don’t mingle with the people of this town.”
“You don’t have to mingle with them. Just slide down the hill with me.”
The idea of holding her in front of him in a sled, feeling her back against his chest as they sped down a snowy hill, made him feel all warm and fuzzy.
Dangerous feelings. Feelings that must be eliminated.
“Simplicity.”
“Ethan.” She mimicked his serious tone, making him realize how dire and ridiculous he sounded.
“Don’t answer now. Just think about it.” She kissed his cheek, and without another word, turned to skip out the door.
Chapter Seven
A firm believer in putting positive thoughts into the universe so positive things would happen, Simplicity had still been shocked to find Ethan’s back door wide open when she had crept onto his back porch. Barely over thirty degrees outside, she knew he had left it open as an invitation. Just like she had hoped he would one day.
He hadn’t stopped her from ordering pizza. Only teased her a little when she ordered half with no cheese and loaded with veggies. He didn’t like the vegan thing, but he didn’t try to prevent her from making her own food choices.
He’d probably never know how much it meant to her that he had placed an extra chair at the table.
The afternoon would have been perfect if she hadn’t invited him to the sledding fundraiser.
Too much too soon, as was her style.
She sighed as she parked her car in front of Miss Molly’s shop. She wanted to pick up some fancy paper to make signs to hang around town, and since the groceries had already been in the car for several hours longer than they should have been, she figured another few minutes wouldn’t hurt. Since she was operating this fundraiser on close to a zero budget, she’d have to go cheap.
When she told Miss Molly what she needed the paper for, Miss Molly gave her a huge box of fancier paper than Simplicity would have been able to afford and refused to take money (or even the promise of money in the future) for it.
“Put me on as a sponsor, dear. Whatever else you need, you let me know.”
“Thank you so much. This will be helpful.”
Miss Molly looked at Simplicity as if she had more to say.
“Things are going really well with Ethan.” Simplicity cleared her throat at Miss Molly’s raised eyebrow. “I mean, Mr. Witherford.”
Miss Molly didn’t say anything.
“We had dinner together tonight. I think he’s warming up to me.”
Miss Molly stayed silent. This was a deadly conversation. Yet Simplicity couldn’t stop herself from filling the silence.
“He got mad at me when I invited him to the sledding event, though.”
Bells on the door behind her signaled that someone else had entered the shop, and Simplicity sent up a silent prayer to the goddess that with the presence of someone else, she’d be able to shut her mouth and stop spouting off personal information.
“Well, hello, Inspector.”
Simplicity’s shoulders tightened at Miss Molly’s greeting.
“Hello, Miss Molly.” Jackson’s arm slipped around Simplicity’s hip and he hesitated awkwardly before he pulled her in for a kiss on the cheek.
Simplicity reached over to gather the box from the counter. “Thanks again, Miss Molly.”
“Here, let me get that for you.” Jackson grabbed the box, attempting to take it from Simplicity.
“No, I’m fine. Thanks.”
A brief tug-of-war ensued.
Miss Molly intervened. “Now, now. Simplicity is a strong girl. She can get it out to her car herself. What can I help you with, Inspector?”
“I insist.” He jerked the box out of Simplicity’s grip, cutting her finger with the cardboard.
Lips stiff, she followed him as he carried the box to her car.
“Thanks,” she muttered after he placed the box in the back seat.
He rested his back against her door, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You’ve been avoiding my calls.”
“I’ve been really busy, Jackson. I wasn’t avoiding you.”
“Are you free this weekend?”
Hope and doubt and insecurity danced through his eyes. Simplicity’s shoulders rested up near her ears and she shoved her cold hands into her coat pocket. The guy hadn’t done anything wrong. Not really. He was human. Not great at communicating, but what else was new with the men in her life?
“I’m sorry, Jackson. I have a lot going on and won’t be free for a long time. I had a nice time with you, though.”
He let out a self-deprecating laugh.
“A nice time. Nice.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“How did you mean it then, Simplicity?”
His eyes turned darker, colder. A chill ran up her back.
“We’re not right for each other. And that’s okay. I enjoyed the time we spent together, but I’ve moved on. You should, too. I’m sure you’ll find someone who can make you forget the girl of your heart.”
“Are you seeing someone else?”
She didn’t like the demanding tone of his question. The accusation in his eyes. As if she couldn’t possibly not want to be with him simply because she didn’t like him. As if it wasn’t possible that his callous remarks about her being second to his high school sweetheart could have turned her off further. As if the spark they had at the beginning cou
ldn’t have flickered out before burning its way down the candle.
No. She didn’t have to explain anything to him. She had tried to let him down easy. He was being a pompous ass. She didn’t like the way he looked at her as if she were beneath him. As if she should swoon at any attention he was willing to throw her way.
“Move please. I’m freezing. And I have things to do.”
He grabbed her arm.
She yanked it away, rubbing the spot he had squeezed.
“You weren’t worth my time, anyway. I thought you were cute, but you’re so caught up in some crazy make-believe world that I don’t think even I could pull you from it.”
His words stung. Was this truly how everyone viewed her?
She wouldn’t let him know that he had found the Achilles heel of her vulnerability.
“I’m glad we’ve cleared this whole thing up, then. Have a good night, Jackson.”
She shouldered him out of her way, got in her car, and cried the whole ride home.
***
Simplicity needed to give up men.
It was that simple.
Nothing in the world had the power to make her feel as pathetic as a member of the Y chromosome club.
Between Jackson’s belittling behavior and the text Ethan had sent her to let her know that he couldn’t make it to the sledding thing but to stop by after and he’d warm her up, she was done.
More done than a whistling kettle.
More done than a browned piece of toast.
More done than a toothpick-coming-out-clean-when-you-stick-it-into-the-batter cupcake.
Done.
Oh, and the fact that the fabulous billionaire in town had tried to shut down her event? That he had sent his legal team to the town meeting to say they didn’t have the proper licensing, and to insinuate that a fundraiser for such an occasion was somehow beneath this town? That rather than investing in the health of children in this town, he spent money trying to blow her project to pieces before it could even begin?
Argh!
Luckily, Miss Molly had gone to bat for her. Clearly she couldn’t be cowed even by the likes of a greedy, stupid, arrogant billionaire.
They all thought she was crazy, and she wouldn’t confirm their beliefs—true or not. She could be independent. She could be strong. There was more to life than the merry-go-round of relationships she kept hopping on.
She would change this little corner of the world for the better, and she didn’t need the self-esteem hits she kept taking from the men.
Driving to Ethan’s with his groceries, she rehearsed the words she’d share with him.
“I have more value than this.”
She shook her head. Sounded smarmy.
“I thought we could build something, but clearly all we have is lust and a shared history of easy orgasms.”
Ick.
“After some careful reflecting, I’ve realized that I need to be alone. I’m sure you don’t care, but…”
Ugh.
She pulled into his driveway, grabbed his bag of groceries, and strode as confidently as she could manage to his front door.
She would make him take the groceries himself. No more leaving them in the back. No more sneaking around to avoid disturbing him. No more being treated like a second-class citizen.
No more being used. Period.
Okay, so she had made herself extremely available to him. She had thought she could heal him with her touch.
She had been wrong.
She had been wrong her whole life.
She had a purpose now. A mission.
She had the potential to feel truly good about herself for the first time in her adult life.
She wouldn’t allow anyone to take that from her.
Jackson had been right—she had been living in a make-believe world. He wasn’t the first one to throw that in her face. It was time for her to wake up and smell the non-fiction.
She knocked on the door.
Ethan whipped it open, gruff as ever.
But cleanly shaved.
“You were supposed to come in the back.”
“Actually, about that.”
He grabbed the bag from her hands.
“Go around back.”
He slammed the door shut, leaving her standing in the cold.
She pounded on the door.
“Ethan! Mr. Witherford! I have something to say to you.”
“Around back.”
His shouted words penetrated the thick wood of the door, lodging somewhere between her ribs and her self-preservation.
If she had an ounce of intelligence, she’d hop in her car and drive out of there as fast as a Pegasus would fly.
If she had a drop of self-respect, she’d shout back through the door that she was done with him, with his shopping, with his lack of respect.
If she had a trace of the strength of other women she knew, she’d never have come here in the first place. Not after that first encounter.
He had pulled a gun on her, and she pulled his trigger.
Stupid.
Something about the urgency in his voice when he shouted his instructions intrigued her. Something about the way his fingers had lightly grazed hers when he took the bag from her hands made her tummy twist in intricate, conflicting knots. Something about the way her body began walking around the house to his back door made her think she wasn’t in control at all.
As soon as she stepped into his back porch, his door drifted open. Flickering candlelight illuminated a trail of rose petals along the floor.
She stomped the snow off her boots, fighting the tears that threatened to drown her.
She left her boots on the porch and allowed her wool socks to lead her toward him.
She could no longer breathe when she stepped in and noticed Ethan.
No longer wearing a dark hoodie, Ethan was dressed in a fancy suit. Rather than looking like the POW the town knew him as, he bore the appearance of a suave, confident aristocrat.
His eyes picked up the light of the candles. She quickly transformed into the bug who couldn’t resist the allure of the bright light.
She struggled to squeeze air past her tightened throat and didn’t realize she was clutching her chest until he stepped forward and rubbed her upper arms.
“Thank you for bringing the groceries.”
She had things she wanted to say to him. Things that sounded like “goodbye.”
No way could she leave him now.
He lowered his face toward hers, and all plans of saving herself fled as she breathed in the scent of coffee and soap and Ethan.
Powerful.
Her lips parted, and he rubbed his thumb over them.
“I’ve missed you.”
His voice was warm and husky, clear and crisp. An unexpected mating of summer and fall.
Why had she wanted to tell him goodbye?
As far as he knew, they were on good terms. Their last moments together had been comfortable.
She had allowed the inspector’s voice to overtake her own.
Shame on her.
It was unfair to project her wants onto him. If he wasn’t comfortable socially, she needed to accept him for who he was, just as she wanted him to accept her.
She gasped when he lifted her into his arms and began the journey down the path of petals.
She rested her head on his shoulder and toyed with the button on his shirt, taking in every thump of his heart as they walked.
She gasped again when she noticed how his room had changed.
A bed had taken the place of the once-lonely futon, making the room less stark and more inviting. The comforter she had sent him picked up the glow of the candles and made the perfect backdrop for the petals that decorated the soft surface.
He caught her tear with his lips.
“I’ve made you cry.”
He stiffened and placed her down to stand on her own two feet.
She wiped her flowing tears with the back of her hand.
<
br /> “No. Not like that. It’s so beautiful, Ethan. No one has ever gone through this kind of effort for me before.”
His forehead wrinkled and a cloud settled in his eyes.
“You’re emotionally moved by this small gesture?”
She chewed her bottom lip and stared at his chest.
“What kind of men have you been with? You should have been showered with luxury. You should have been bathed in all that is romantic and good.”
She sniffled indelicately.
He pulled her close again. Her nipples tightened against her shirt as he provoked all the sensations he was so skilled at gifting to her.
His breath on the top of her head as he planted small kisses on her hair made her want to crawl inside his heart and make her home there.
She tilted her head back so her lips could take their share of his kisses. He obliged with a growl, sweeping his tongue over her mouth and capturing her in a deep kiss.
He lifted her into his arms again, lowering her to the bed while maintaining the passionate tongue stroking.
Her hips lifted, demanding more from him.
A superstorm brewed in her body, mingling with the confusion in her brain.
He was different. This was different. She was feeling different.
He shifted to the side and moved his hand to her hip. After a moment of gentle pressure, he rolled her toward him.
He stopped kissing her and stared at her face.
Heat warmed her cheeks at his perusal.
He was the most intense human she had ever been around. Way more intense than the pretentious, wanna-be hippies she tended to be drawn to—even when they were brain-deep in their “mind-opening” drug of choice.
When she couldn’t take his intensity anymore, she laughed and covered her face with her two hands.
He pried her fingers away and planted a kiss on each digit before kissing her nose.
“You are flawless, Simplicity.”
Her name in his voice—more thrilling than walking the beach at sunrise.
More dangerous than visiting the beach at the height of a hurricane.
He flinched when she reached up to trace his scars.
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