The Art of Ethan (18 page)

It took a few minutes for Grace to gather her nerve and composure. She went to the bathroom and splashed cool water on her face. Her eyes were puffy, her nose was red and raw, and her skin was blotchy. Basically, she was a wreck. Of course, she felt better. Katherine was right. Her mother would have been in quite a temper to know she had done nothing with her life the last four years.

She looked again at the mirror. No way would a man want to take on a woman with this much baggage. If she hadn't chased him away with being moody, certainly her lack of stability had sealed the deal. Still, she had to acknowledge one fact. Grace had been dead, and Ethan had breathed life into her whether she liked it or not. When she got home, she would make some changes—lots of them. Right now, she needed to go out there and apologize to a friend.

Katherine Young stepped into the kitchen and hugged her son. He was a giant, big like his father yet gentle like his grandfather. She knew her dad was a passionate man. He was more sensitive than most dads. He would trade or sell his art to get them whatever they wanted or needed. Ethan was his first grandchild, born two months after he lost his wife. He poured all of his heart and soul into him. Ethan absorbed it like a sponge.

That made him special; it also made her worried. If Grace broke his heart, he would be devastated. He already lived in solitude and seemed content to be there. Grace drew him out. So now, all she could do was watch the two broken souls and pray they mended together.

"She's a very special woman.” Katherine nodded.

"You're not too bad yourself.” Ethan attempted a smile. “Thanks, Mom."

"Don't give up on her, son. She has to heal. That takes time.” Katherine pulled his attention from the bedroom door.

"I'm not giving up on her. I love her. I can't give up on her.” He looked back at the door.

"Well, you remember your grandfather chased my mom for a year. He had the patience of a saint, I tell you.” Katherine smiled. If Ethan had a challenge in getting Grace, his personal challenge was going to be patience. He could sit and paint for hours, focus, and dedicate time, but away from a canvas, the boy had none.

"That's not my strongest attribute.” Ethan looked at the door to his bedroom again.

"Never was. You used to throw a temper if you had to wait for a juice cup. I'm not looking forward to watching you go through this, but you will have to be patient, son.” Katherine patted his arm. “Give her a few minutes."

Ethan was pacing again. His mother said to give Grace a few minutes, and she'd be out. It had been ten minutes. In one more, he would be going in there to check on her. Luckily, she appeared. Grace looked a mess, like she had gone through hell and back.

"Hey,” he said quietly and raised a long arm up, pushed through his hair, and grabbed his neck. Should he go to her, or wait for her to come to him?

"Hi.” Grace stood there and wasn't sure what to say. As soon as she opened her mouth though, it was like everything just stumbled out.

"Ethan, I'm sorry for today. I hadn't realized that I never buried my mother. I mean I was at the funeral. I watched them lower her in the ground, but I never accepted it. I never work in that room, her room. I store things in the closet, but every time I sit at that desk, her desk, I find a way to get out of there.” She rambled and talked as much to herself as to him.

"Grace, if I would have known, I would have never...” Ethan started. He really didn't know he was opening up a Pandora's box for her. He just wanted Grace in his life.

"I'm glad you did. God, don't you see? Everyone in my life up until now has just let me be. No one challenged me. No one tried to knock any sense into me. I could have really become an old maid.” Grace still felt the hurt. She knew it wasn't going to be easy to let go, but she had to live her life.

"That's why Mitchell couldn't marry me. Not that I would want him to now, but he wouldn't tell me the truth. He just ran out. He knew I would never leave that house, and he wanted to move to Raleigh. Raleigh! Just three hours away."

Ethan just stood there listening. He didn't know what to say, so he thought his best option would be to just listen. Her grief was raw and powerful. His heart ached for her.

He couldn't fathom the thought of losing his mother now, his father either. He was there with his grandfather when he died. It was peaceful, and his grandfather was old, one hundred-two years old. His grandfather had said what a full long life he lived, and that he was ready to go. That had to make a difference.

Grace talked in a panic almost.

"I can't believe Megan never said anything to me. Well, I take that back, I can. She wouldn't risk me being angry or upset with her. We pick over little things, but nothing that would push the other too far.” Grace was having a revelation. Her thoughts were clear. She knew what she had to do. She had to shut up before she scared him away any farther. “Your mom said you bought cookies."

"Cookies?” Ethan wasn't expecting that last line. Grace is nuts, flat out. Passionate, crazy, she's an artist, just like him.

"Yes, cookies?"

"Yeah, cookies, milk, ice cream, and cheesecake.” So, he would just go with it. At least it was safe conversation for him. No one's afraid of cookies.

"I'm starving,” Grace said as she moved toward the kitchen. She had to get control. She needed to breathe deeply and think of Evelyn. God, she wished she could call her. Another loss, but not totally, Evelyn had a lot of issues and let Grace know she was in her thoughts by sending postcards. No return address, she considered Grace and her home a safe house.

Maybe that's where she got the idea. It was a very safe house. Too safe, in fact, it was so safe it was dangerous. “Are you hungry?"

"I can eat.” Ethan proceeded with caution joining her in the kitchen. He stood next to her. Her face had cleared a little. Her eyes and nose were still pink, but most of the redness and swelling was fading away. His hands shook with the need to hold her, comfort her, to steal the pain away if he could.

"I must look like hell.” Grace noticed his gaze and knew she felt better, better than she had in years, but she also knew she looked like she had been hit by a truck.

"You look beautiful,” Ethan whispered.

It was in a simple soft voice that sent shivers of joy throughout her body. He pressed his right hand in the small of her back as he reached over her head to grab two glasses from the cabinet shelf with his left. Her entire body surged with electricity. Again, he had brought her back to life. Grace turned into him and wrapped her arms around his back, holding him tightly while burying her face in his chest. She took in a slow breath inhaling his scent.

He smelled like sandalwood and Ethan. The same scent he left in her sheets at home. The same scent he poured over her body with his body when they had been together.

He set the glasses behind her on the counter and held Grace tightly.

Ethan wanted to hold her like this forever. He wanted to protect her, to save her from all the pain she must be feeling. The thought of Grace leaving was pulling to the forefront of his mind. He wanted to tell her he loved her. He was sure of it, but he knew she had too much to bear right now. That was more pressure than she should have to handle, especially now. Tomorrow, he would watch her leave and wait for her return.

"Ethan I...” Grace started to say the words, I love you. But of course, he would think she was crazy. Hell, after this episode,
she
was beginning to think she was crazy. Besides, she had a lot of work to do, and all of it was in North Carolina. She couldn't leave there until it was done, and she would see him again, just three weeks until the wedding. Right now, Grace needed to reassure her friend that she wouldn't let him down. He needed her, and she wanted to be there.

"I will be okay for the wedding you know. This, well, this was just a long time coming, and I'm so sorry I took it out on you."

"Well, what are friends for?” Ethan sighed heavily. He was definitely the only one crossing that line. He had to plant his feet back on the friendship side and firmly. Even as he visualized himself taking a step back, he could see his toes, inching over the line to Grace. Who was he kidding? “I picked up some movies."

"Casablanca?"

"Here's lookin’ at you kid."

Grace still held him.

They stood there for a while. His chin was on her head while his arms were wrapped tightly around her. They were both thinking, each about the other, secretly planning. Not wanting to let go. Not wanting the day to end. But time moved quickly.

They sat on the big couch and watched movies. Ethan fed her junk food nonstop. He ate just as much as she did. Maybe they both needed to comfort themselves with a snack binge. She wasn't sure. She was sure that he stayed right next to her and didn't want to let her out of reach.

She had to pull away to go to the bathroom, and he was pacing when she returned. It was strange to see him so upset. She didn't understand it.

The next morning Grace awoke with her head splitting in two from a headache. She must have cried all the water out of her body yesterday then refilled it with milk, cookies, and cheesecake. If Ethan had any qualms about her weight or junk food addiction, he certainly didn't show it. Once the pounding settled into a mind numbing pain, she realized one cold fact. She was alone. Ethan was not there with his arms around her this morning. She sighed heavily.

"You're up?” Ethan walked in the bedroom. He was wearing running shorts, the short silky ones like the Marines and Coast Guard wear when they do group exercises, only they were black. His
Under Armour
brand shirt was tight, and his muscles strained beneath it. He was wet, dripping wet with sweat. His hair was soaked, and his face was flushed. “I just finished stretching. I didn't think you'd be up for a while."

Grace could barely focus as it was, but then he pulled the shirt over his head. His massive chest dripped sweat in a rolling teardrop down his abs, each ripple, and then into the waistline of his shorts. Someone should paint his portrait. Oh, wait, the Greeks had already made statues of him long before he was born.

"My head hurts.” Grace winced in agony.

"Oh, my poor baby.” Ethan smiled. “I have
Tylenol
. Will that help?"

"Yes.” Grace nodded then realized that shaking her head was not a good idea either.

Ethan turned to get the Tylenol, and she had the delightful pleasure of watching him walk away. His back side was just as striking with his mountain like shoulders and firm little butt. At least now, she knew why his ass was tight. He ran almost every morning. Well, probably every morning he wasn't with her, except this one.

"Here ya go.” He handed her two Tylenol and a glass of water. “I need to shower. I stink, and I'm dripping sweat everywhere."

"I don't mind,” Grace said after swallowing the pills. “A girl could get used to that."

"Cute.” He tapped her on the nose with his left index finger and whistled his way to the bathroom.

What was going on? She was sure when they went to bed last night he hadn't tried anything because of her temporary lack of sanity that afternoon, but he still snuggled her in tightly when she pressed against him. He played with her curls until he fell asleep. Yet, today it's like they are old buds, not lovers. Then, it hit her. They are just buds.

No serious talk of being lovers, even casual, or long distance ever took place. They had shared a few intimate moments, some passionate, mind blowing sex, but no commitments.

"Fabulous,” she said aloud.

Grace stood dressed and ready to go at the kitchen counter. She was sad, confused, and in pain. Her bag was packed, and she had pulled it to the living room. Ethan walked out wearing a towel and a smile. Torture, he must be trying to torture her.

"Breakfast?"

"I have to catch the plane in a few hours."

"Don't eat before you fly. I should have thought of that.” He winked.

"I eat. I was just reminding you."

Grace was so melancholy.

"Reminding me that you eat, or that you have to catch a flight?” He teased playfully. She was going to smile if it killed her. He held her all night wanting to prove that it wasn't just sex he was after. He cared about her; he loved her. She needed to see that he could wait for her to sort through things.

He could be a friend, and then he would take her as his own. Hell, she was already his. It was just a matter of time before she realized that. His grandfather had chased his grandmother for almost a year, wearing her down. He hoped it wouldn't take a year, but he would wait it out longer if necessary.

"Quit being fresh!” She smiled a faint little smile.

"There you are. Thank God. I thought I lost you forever.” He walked up to her, looking down into those hazel eyes that flecked a green, brown, and gray rainbow. “So, what do you feel like?"

Grace slid her hand over his chest and licked her lips. Her head was pounding, but she wanted to play and be in a better mood, too.

"You.” She blinked rapidly and regretted it immediately as it fuzzed her vision.

"No, you don't, but thanks for reassuring me.” He kissed her forehead, her temple. “Besides, we have to have something to do on their wedding night, right?"

"It's a date.”
A date?
Grace knew she wanted Ethan, but she didn't know if Ethan wanted her.

She had to be very careful. He had a reputation for attracting women who were too aggressive. She would have to play it cool. “I should call Megan, at least talk to her before I head back."

"Yeah, she's pretty pissed.” Ethan grabbed two bowls from the cabinet and a box of cereal. “Will you grab the milk?"

"She's mad? About what?” Grace pulled the milk out and set it on the table. “I guess I need to call her."

"I don't know what she's mad about really. Chase said something about the four of us and dinner. I told him no. Megan was mad, so I told him to tell Megan it was better to be pissed off than pissed on, and that you were in bed."

"Oh.” Grace didn't know what to say to that.

Not many people stood up to Megan and certainly not on her behalf, but he was harsh, so the diva would be in full bride-zilla mode when Grace got a hold of her. Right then, she decided to wait to call when she got home. She sat and poured a bowl of cereal.

"I thought you were going to call Megan,” Ethan said before he took an oversized bite of cereal.

"She can wait.” Grace took a bite.

Ethan choked. It was all he could do to swallow the cereal. “I'm sorry. Did I hear you right?"

"What? She can wait. I've been at her beck and call since we were kids. She can wait a few more hours.” Grace took another bite.

Ethan smiled with great satisfaction. He hadn't told Grace Megan had called because, well, what would he have said? She was crying in his bed at the time. Today, Grace was different. A good different, she was a complete ball of fire. Ethan wanted to pull her across the table and have his way with her. He would have to resist because he didn't want to confuse her.

He didn't want to be confused. He wanted Grace to want him, but she was a mess right now. He had to guard his own heart.

He had to put on more than just a towel.

"You know we still have time to catch the Sex and the City tour.” Grace loved that show, and before he ripped her life to pieces, they had planned to take that tour. At least she could leave on a good note, have at least one fun adventure.

"Really?” She perked right up.