The Art of Ethan Read online

  What about this man had her so out of sorts? Maybe it was how soft his hair looked. Don’t touch it. She shook her head in thought. He was way out of her league anyway. With a deep exhale, Grace did what she had to do. She grabbed her pajamas and left the room quietly.

  * * * *

  Ethan could feel the soft smooth hand on his forehead, but he didn’t dare open his eyes. He knew it was Grace. He heard the flip flops patting against her feet as she walked. He could smell jasmine the closer she came to him. How she was actually related to Megan was a mystery. They were like night and day. Grace had compassion, and she cared about people, even a stranger. This woman gave up her bed, even yelled at his brother for laughing at him, and here she stood, her soft hand pressing to his forehead, making sure he was alright. This was not at all what he expected.

  * * * *

  Chase had everything ready when Grace made it back downstairs.

  “Grab a plate,” Megan said cheerfully. “My honey is the best chef around.” She planted a big kiss on his lips.

  “I thought you said he was an architect?” Grace was already sick of their petting and playing. Stop it! she yelled at herself. Stop being bitter. Jealous, no, Megan was the one who should be jealous. Grace McPherson answered to no man.

  “I am.” Chase interrupted her thoughts. He was like apple pie, just beaming with all-American goodness. “Megan just likes to boast about my skills in the kitchen, among other places.” He winked as he piled the mashed potatoes on Grace’s plate and whispered. “I think it’s so she doesn’t have to cook.”

  “Megan’s an excellent cook. Me, on the other hand, I’ve been known to catch the place on fire.” Grace sat at the table. Why are you always beating yourself up? She wondered where this internal monster came from. More importantly, how was she going to get rid of it?

  “If I were cooking for that piece of...” Megan had told Chase about Mitchell, but Grace didn’t know that. “I mean.” She stopped talking.

  “It’s no big deal.” Grace was six months over it. Hell, she was her whole life over it. “I expected you to tell Chase. He’s going to be your husband.” And I guess that means everything between us just moved to a threesome. Inside she was mad at her for telling him, but outside she was calm, cool Gracie. Nothing bothered her anymore. Nothing excited her either. Maybe that’s why she lost the coaching job.

  “I.” Chase didn’t exactly know what to say. “I watched Ethan go through something similar. It was a tough time.”

  Tough time? Did Mr. Hilfiger really just act like he knows me? “Really, so his bride to be walked out on him in a Vegas chapel with no explanation and no way home?”

  Grace tried not to sound like a bitch, but these two were in pre-marital bliss. There was no way either of them could understand what it felt like to be left at the altar. “Do you know what it’s like to think you’re going to spend the rest of your life with someone and then poof-boom-bam, they’re gone?”

  “No, he doesn’t.” Ethan’s voice growled as he entered the kitchen. “These two have been just like that, in their own little fantasy, for the past, what two years?”

  His presence sent her blood racing and her head spinning. Now, in addition to being the joke of her own town, she would be that poor thing at Megan’s wedding. She would now be known as that sad little maid of honor, the one who lost her groom.

  Ethan looked at Chase with a deep, angry eye. His anger was diffused by the hunger in his stomach. Whatever had hit him had passed now.

  “Shit.” Chase could see his brother was mad, and though he himself was a big man, Ethan had at least a couple inches on him in height and a good thirty pounds or more in muscle. Ethan rarely threw his weight around, but he knew how to use it when he had to. This wasn’t a good impression for Grace. “My bad.”

  Ethan just glared. “So, what else is on the table for discussion?” He sat next to Grace. His plate was full of mashed potatoes only. “Did you tell her I may be a father soon?”

  Grace could feel her heart sink. He wasn’t single. She peered at Megan now. Why would you bring an unavailable man here with the tag line I hope you hit it off with one of them? It occurred to her in that moment that she cared if he was available. That was a revelation all its own.

  “No.” Chase lowered his voice. “But you just told them both.” He pushed up from the table and went upstairs without further comment.

  If the conversation continued, they would be out back scrapping like they did when they were kids. They loved each other, but Ethan was closer to Joshua, their cousin, when it came down to it, probably because they were the same age. Chase was three years behind.

  Chase was a peacemaker, a lover, not a fighter. Ethan and Joshua were athletes, gladiators, only Ethan also had a knack for art

  “What?” Megan now looked in confusion from Chase’s back as he left to Ethan. “What are you talking about? Who?”

  The questions came like bullets hitting Ethan hard right between the eyes. Too bad they couldn’t just put him out of his misery.

  “Damn it.” Ethan gritted his teeth. “Well, no point in holding out now. Chloe, I don’t think it’s true.” It actually felt good to get it off his chest, even to Megan. “Don’t tell my mother.”

  “That crazy bitch!” Megan stood up in disbelief. Her petite frame was tight, and her fists were drawing in tighter. Megan was little, but she was a fighter.

  Grace watched as the scene unraveled. Megan obviously had no love for this Chloe person, and Ethan didn’t seem happy about fatherhood.

  “You know when.” With that, Ethan began eating the huge pile of mashed potatoes on his plate, never looking up at Megan again.

  “That tricky little slut!” Megan just fumed. After a moment of silence, she passed by Ethan, putting a hand on his shoulder and quietly said, “I’m sorry.”

  He just snorted and shrugged it off. Now, Grace was the only one left in the kitchen. An uncomfortable silence was growing. Her heart was racing from the whole thing, or was it from his presence? Say something.

  “Women.” Grace shrugged. “Can’t kill ‘em.”

  It sounded like a guy thing to say. Something a man might want to hear at a time like this. What kind of name is Chloe anyway?

  Ethan turned a dark eye toward her and shook his head. “You probably think I’m some womanizer now.”

  “Are you?”

  “No.”

  “I don’t let other people influence what I think.” His presence was powerful, overwhelming. She wanted to touch him in the worst way, and she had never felt like that toward anyone before.

  He was scary when he was mad. He seemed dark and mysterious. It somehow turned her on. Cold shower, Gracie, get to the shower.

  “What about Megan? She’s your family?” Ethan focused on his plate. This wasn’t the impression he wanted to make. He hoped to have a peaceful time now that he had seen her and felt her hands on his chest and forehead. His body reheated just thinking about it.

  “Chase is your brother, you let him influence you?”

  “Little Brother.”

  “Little Cousin.”

  Ethan snickered. She is a fireball. He had never really been attracted to a red-head before. He was more a brunette kind of guy, yet he was simply mesmerized by her hair.

  “Can I...” He grabbed a curl off her shoulder and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. “Nice.”

  “Uh, yeah.” Grace slowly pulled her lock of hair away from him. That was probably the most brazen thing a man had ever done. He just reached out and touched her. Trouble, he was definitely trouble.

  “Sorry, I like textures.” Ethan went back to his potatoes.

  Trouble. “You know you don’t have to tell me what happened, but I feel I should clear up my own mess.” Grace had to clear the air about Mitchell.

  Maybe then Ethan would tell her about his own mishap. Either way, she didn’t like being thought of as that poor thing who got left at the damn altar. She suffered enough humiliation
coming home two days after him, two days on a bus back.

  “I was left at the altar in Vegas. My on again off again boyfriend decided he was ready to commit. Booked us a flight to Vegas, and after about an hour waiting next to Elvis, I discovered Mitchell had left the building.” She used her best Elvis impersonation and smiled.

  She was uncomfortable talking about it. It made her sound like another joke, so now she told it like a joke. “It happened over six months ago, and I hadn’t seen him eight months prior to that weekend...”

  “Whoa, whoa. You were going to marry this guy, and you hadn’t been dating in almost a year?” Ethan felt red flags pop up all around her. He had to stay away from crazy women who wanted to get married. Going to Vegas with a guy she hadn’t seen in months seemed desperate. Desperate women were attracted to him. Shit!

  “We have known each other since childhood.”

  Ethan stared at her blankly.

  “I’m almost thirty.”

  He still looked unconvinced.

  “No one else has asked me? Hell, I haven’t dated anyone else to ask me.” Grace studied his face as much as he studied hers. Finally, she shrugged. His gaze was unwavering and unnerving. “But he did, so I went.”

  “So, you just wanted to get married?” Ethan nodded.

  “No. I mean, yes. Well, no. But, I don’t know. I guess I felt like why not? I mean I don’t want to end up an old maid.” Grace shook her head in thought. She hadn’t really thought about it at the time. It just seemed like the thing to do.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” Ethan looked her over quickly. The only way this woman could end up an old maid was by choice. She was beautiful with a body to die for; she must be nuts. It was the only reason he could come up with.

  “You know I really need to shower.” Grace was feeling cornered, and that chocolate gaze was burning her up.

  No one questioned her. Everyone understood Mitchell was the one for her, the guy she was going to marry. If Ethan had lived in Beaufort all his life, he would have known that, too.

  No, she didn’t love Mitchell. She barely thought he was attractive, but he did invest time in her, sort of. Her mother always thought he was a respectable young man with a good family. He always impressed her mother, and she desperately wanted to see grandchildren before she died, but that didn’t happen either.

  “You didn’t answer my question.” Ethan stood and carried his plate to the sink. She said no then yes. He wanted to know for sure yes or no. He didn’t know why; he just had to know.

  “I did, too. You’re not a good listener.” Grace set her plate in the sink and darted for the stairs before he could say anything else. Why didn’t Joshua come? If he had, she would be talking about lesson plans and learning strategies instead of her love life or lack thereof.

  Ethan watched her run. Huh, a woman running from me. That was strange. It was almost ... refreshing?

  * * * *

  After her shower, she stood in the girls’ room, named such, because it was decorated by Grace and Megan when they were just teenagers. Her mom didn’t have the heart to change it. Of course, neither did Grace. Ethan was talking with Chase and Megan across the hall.

  Grace wanted her own room back but didn’t want to be rude. Plus, she didn’t want to talk to Ethan. He unsettled her. She would be a good host but keep distance. Then, she banged her head on the top bunk. As she rubbed her head, she thought about booting him out of her room. Grumbling she settled into the bottom bunk.

  * * * *

  Ethan opened the door and looked around the room. It was bright purple with a yellow and pink floral comforter on the top bunk and a blue and yellow striped one on the bottom with Grace underneath. His eyes hurt just looking at it. What were they thinking?

  He wanted to tell her she could have her room back, but she was sound asleep. His eyes wandered over the soft features of her face. Her red hair spiraled all around her head. She was beautiful. Chase was right about that. Since Grace wasn’t sleeping in her bed tonight, he would. He liked the smell of it—of her.

  When he got to her bedroom, he found himself in an odd situation. He wanted to snoop. The room looked all soft and feminine with a yellow floral comforter on the bed and soft pink sheets underneath. It smelled like Grace. The windows let streams of moonlight in through the thin curtains.

  A chair and side table were in the corner for reading. A double closet with sliding doors was along one wall, and a long white wicker dresser was along the wall next to the door. It was big and comfortable, except the bed. A queen bed was small to him. He wouldn’t mind seeing Grace in it next to him, close at hand. With that thought, he stripped to his boxers and crawled into the bed. He would have to run this off in the morning.

  * * * *

  Morning comes too soon after a restless night. Grace opened her eyes to see the heavy wood of the top bunk. For a moment, she had forgotten where she was. The purple walls reminded her.

  Ugh, Megan’s old room. They did this when they were thirteen. Why her mother let them, she had no idea, but even when Megan left for the city, her mom wouldn’t change it.

  She always treated Megan like a daughter instead of a niece. Megan’s father and Grace’s father were brothers. Megan’s mom ran out on them. Her father thought a little girl should be raised by a woman, so he sent Megan to live with them when she was eleven. This room, like her mother’s room, stood as a shrine to what once was.

  Get up, Grace.

  First impressions were over, not that she held a candle to her princess cousin, who was petite and perfect. With wild hair, plain cotton pajamas, and no makeup, Grace headed for the kitchen. She was hoping everyone was in a better mood though she herself felt crankier than ever. The twin mattress was old and lumpy. Her back was in knots from it.

  Ethan stood there tall and delicious, drinking coffee as he leaned against the counter. His dark brown hair was tussled about on his head. Maybe he didn’t own a brush or comb. His rich chocolate eyes looked at her and seemed to peer right into her soul. He dressed in loose cargo shorts and a Blink-182 T-shirt. A stark contrast to his brother and her cousin, who appeared more starched this morning.

  Ethan could hardly believe his eyes when Grace entered the room. He had never seen a woman so cranky look so good. Her hair was a wild assortment of red curls that ran like a wave over her shoulders and down her back. His fingers would love to surf right through. The pajamas and T-shirt were not unlike his own sleeping attire, but of course, he, Chase, and Megan were all awake and fully dressed.

  “How long have you guys been up?” Grace asked as she slowly became aware all eyes were on her. She gripped the island in the center of the kitchen for balance. Looking at Ethan kind of made her dizzy. No, she thought. I got up too fast from that bottom bunk, that’s it.

  “We just came down like five minutes ago,” Megan said as her eyes examined her cousin from head to toe.

  Grace looked a fright. If Megan had any hopes of getting her a date for the wedding, she would have to make a better presentation than this. “You’re not wearing that out, are you?”

  “Out, it’s...” Her eyes began searching for the clock. They had all made up apparently and were now like the Swiss Family Robinson ready to go exploring.

  “Eight am,” Ethan said.

  “Eight in the morning?” She looked at Megan. “Where do you plan on going dressed like that at eight in the morning on a Monday?” Grace spoke in all capitals. Megan was in a crisp navy skirt and a white tank top that hugged her perfect little breasts and pushed them up. Show off.

  Everyone looked at Megan.

  “Well.” She put her finger to her lips for effect. “First, I plan to eat breakfast, and then we can walk right across the street and take the bus tour.” Megan pulled the living room curtain back, holding her hand as if she just revealed what was behind secret door number one, and took a bow.

  You could hear Ethan and Chase shift their heads looking one direction then the other as the ladies spoke in
turn.

  “You realize it doesn’t leave until eleven?” Grace put her hands on her hips and started tapping her bare foot on the floor.

  They shifted back to Megan.

  “Yes, but I still have to get dressed myself.”

  Grace lifted her brow.

  “You are dressed.” Grace was getting annoyed by Megan’s cuteness. It was too early for cute. She needed coffee before these boys really got to watch a show.

  “I have on clothes, but I still have to pick out my accessories, put on my makeup, and do something with this hair.” Megan twisted a curl on her finger.

  “Okay, I need some...” Before she finished, Ethan handed her a cup of coffee. “I uh, thanks.” He must be a mind reader.

  “No problem.” Ethan fought the smile.

  “Well, I guess I’ll get dressed and start breakfast,” Grace said as she rolled her eyes.

  “Actually, I can start the breakfast if you just tell me what you want to eat,” Ethan said moving even closer to Grace. He wanted to touch her hair desperately. Most women didn’t challenge Megan. He was relieved to see her cousin wasn’t like most women. In fact, Grace acted like no woman he had ever met.

  “She eats cookies for breakfast,” Megan stated then looked down as Grace gave her the evil eye. “What? It’s true,” she mumbled.

  “Breakfast of champions, huh?” Ethan set his coffee cup down. “How about pancakes?” He watched Grace as Chase voiced an agreement.

  He resisted the urge to touch her. I am against women right now. They are evil. They are trying to ruin my life.

  “I don’t know how to make pancakes. I was thinking cereal,” Grace said softly, embarrassed. It was true. If it didn’t come from a can or box and just need a little stirring, Grace didn’t cook it.

  Ethan leaned in close to her.

  “You don’t have to make them; you can watch.” That smell, he wasn’t dreaming it; she smelled like jasmine. How can anything that smells like jasmine be evil?