The Art of Ethan (19 page)

Ethan walked Grace to the security checkpoint and wished she would just stay. He thought about her returning to that big house. He thought about the roof and the widow watch at the top. Women stood there on the roof watching for husbands and loved ones to return, waiting to see the sails of their ships. Grace was a pirate alright. She had broken in and stolen his heart. Now, he would worry over her every minute she was gone like those women, what a role reversal.

"Lock your doors,” Ethan said as he hugged her.

"What?” Grace looked up at him.

"You should lock your doors. I don't like to think of you there alone in that house.” Ethan shrugged.

"Are you worried about me?” Grace teased. He was worried. She had worried about others, but for the first time since her mother died, someone was really worried about her.

"No, I know you're a grown responsible woman, but I would feel better if you locked your doors.” He looked in her eyes. He didn't want to scare her; he just couldn't help be concerned.

"Thank you, I will.” Grace tiptoed to be closer to his lips. “I had a great time today."

"Me, too."

Ethan bent and kissed her lightly, sweetly. His massive chest rose and fell with a heavy sigh. Maybe he could take some time off. Stephanie pretty much ran the gallery for him now anyway. He didn't have any lectures scheduled. No, he wouldn't go unless she invited him. He didn't want to bully his way into her life. Patience, he had to patient unless he could find a good reason to leave.

Ethan watched as she passed through the long security line. She waved from the other side, and he watched her back until her red hair disappeared. He hated to see Grace go. It felt like a piece of him was missing when she was gone. He scrubbed his hands over his face. Even he had to laugh at his descent. He had fallen all right, head over heals for a woman who lived in another state. A state she had no intentions of leaving. SHIT.

Grace walked away and didn't look back. Her bag was checked, and she could feel him watching her. If she turned again and saw him looking, she would run right back to him and say to hell with it all. She wanted Ethan, but she had to be sure she could handle her house. She had to put her mother to rest. If she were an angel, she must have been listening to her prayer, and Ethan was who she sent.

Beaufort, North Carolina

Grace unpacked her bag and sat at the foot of her bed. For the first time in years, she was wide open to all of her emotions. It was late, she was hungry, and she wanted to call Ethan. He was under her skin. She had stolen a T-shirt from his laundry basket. Thank God, he had put his wet clothes in the washing machine. This one was barely worn, but his scent was in it, and so was she.

It wouldn't be right not to call and tell him she was home safe, friends do that.

"Megan, hey it's Grace.” But this call, she had to get out of the way. Megan was furious.

"Look, I was really sick so don't even.” Grace cut her off quickly. She was sick, just not the way Megan thought, but it was enough to curb her attitude.

"I'm fine now, but my head is still killing me.” Grace knew Megan would back down. Her cousin cared about her. She was just worked up about the wedding. It was a massive event. Megan automatically shifted gears to the wedding.

"Megan, I need to get some rest. Can I call you tomorrow? We can really go over details then.” Grace was in no mood for wedding talk right now.

"Love you.” Grace hung up.
Ha! Now, who's hanging up fast?

No sooner than she put the phone down it rang.

"How long have you been home, woman?” Ethan didn't bother to say his name.

"I'm sorry. Who is this?” Grace teased.

"That hurts, Gracie."

"Oh, sorry.” She said it like she was talking to a child. That sweet way you comfort them. Kids, she wanted to have kids. One step at a time, she had to convince Ethan he really wanted her first.

To hear his voice was a relief. A great weight lifted off her shoulders. She wondered if Chloe stalked Ethan because she felt the same desperate connection with him. No, THAT would be crazy. Looking down at the T-shirt she now wore, a twinge of guilt hit her. Had Chloe started out taking things without asking?

"Ethan, I took one of your T-shirts.” The best defense is a good offense.

"Are you wearing it now?” His voice grew low and husky.

"Would you be mad if I said yes?” Her voice was sweet and unsure.

"That depends.” Ethan continued. “Are you wearing anything under it?"

She was but knew better. “Nothing at all."

"Then, no, I'm not mad. Jealous but not mad."

She wanted to talk longer, wanted to fall asleep on the phone listening to him breathe, but he made it clear that wasn't going to be the case tonight.

"As much as I would enjoy using our imaginations tonight, I have to be up early tomorrow for work."

"Work?” Grace wanted to see the gallery, but her episode had knocked that plan off the agenda.

"Yes, work. Some of us don't get the summer off.” He laughed a bit.

"I know. I just ... miss you.” Grace was sad.

"What do you miss exactly?” Ethan pulled his lower lip under his front teeth and waited.

Pulling his shirt to her nose and breathing deeply, Grace started at the obvious. “The way you smell."

"Mmm, I miss the way you taste, Gracie.” Ethan shifted around on his bed. He was kidding when he said he would like to use their imaginations but now...

"Are you in bed?” Grace was nervous now. Her body was telling her to do things that her mind never imagined her doing.

"Yes. You?” He smiled.

Grace pulled back her blankets and sheet then slid in. “I am now."

"You still in my shirt?” Ethan closed his eyes and pictured her in the bed, on top of the soft pink blanket, waiting for him.

"Yes.” Grace worried her bottom lip. She had never done this before, but he was obviously aroused and ready to play on the phone.

"Take it off. I want you naked, Grace. Naked and ready for me.” Ethan lay there with his pajama bottoms on. He wouldn't take them off unless she asked him to, or unless he couldn't stand it anymore.

"Okay.” Grace set the shirt to the side and inhaled it deeply. “What are you wearing?"

"Nothing now.” Ethan pushed them off in record time and grunted as he fell back. “Have you ever done this before?"

"No. Have you?” Grace snapped her eyes open and frowned.

"No, but I've never had a long distance relationship before either and you have. I was hoping you could take the lead here,” Ethan lied. He wanted her to trust him, to let loose and realize that he loved her, and she didn't have to be embarrassed about anything.

"Oh.” Grace cleared her throat. “Well, touch yourself."

He laughed audibly. He couldn't help it. “You touch yourself."

Grace realized that it did sound a little silly, definitely not sexy. “I mean...” She drew a steady breath. “Imagine me touching you. Wrapping my hands around that warm velvet shaft, you know it takes both hands because you're so big."

All humor died in that instant.

"I love the way your hands feel on me, especially on my cock.” Ethan wrapped one hand around his straining erection and squeezed.

"You'd like my mouth on you more.” Grace wiggled in her own bed turning herself on as much as she was apparently turning him on. Ethan let out a low moan, and the sound traveled over her body like a lick of fire. “God, I love the way you taste, Ethan. I try to stuff as much of you in my mouth as possible, so I can taste every inch of you."

"Do you like how I pull and twist your nipples while you suck my cock, Gracie?” Ethan had to get her engaged, or he would just loose it. “Pull them, Grace."

She obeyed and found it a lot more pleasurable than any other time she attempted to gratify herself. On a gasp, she called his name. He groaned.

"I love your mouth, Gracie, but I need to feel you, too. I need to taste you.” Ethan slowly pumped his erection, now slick with the warming lube he had in his bedside drawer. It had been a while since he sought self gratification, but he was glad he had the warming liquid now. Grace was taking him to another level. “Are you wet, Grace?"

"Yes.” She gasped as a bold hand reached between her own legs and sought the wet swollen flesh. “I've never been this wet on my own before."

"You're not on your own, Gracie. I'm there with you.” Ethan felt his heart twist in his chest. She needed him there, with her, not on the phone. “Can you feel me, Grace?"

"Yes,” she said mindlessly as she circled her clit. Imagining it was Ethan eating her, lapping her up like he had done several times now made it all too easy to do what was normally near impossible before. “You feel so good."

"Are you going to come, Grace?” he asked as he pumped his shaft with more vigor. “I want to push inside you, Grace, feel your tight pussy milking my cock, no boundaries, no barriers, just you."

"Yes.” She circled faster, harder, on the brink of her own orgasm. “Fuck me, Ethan."

The words were too strong to hold back, and he knew she was lost as she moaned, and her breath shuddered. He felt his own release at the same time and watched the amazing force of his orgasm soar into the air then fall back onto him.

"God, you're amazing.” He tried to regain his breath. “You wear me out, and you're miles away."

Grace mumbled incoherently. Her own descent back into reality was taking longer than his apparently. She had never given herself pleasure like that. Of course, she wasn't alone.
He was there
, in her heart, her mind. His voice rumbled through her like a tidal wave.

"Mmmm. Sleepy, huh?” Ethan was satisfied. He felt a release of more than just sexual tension. He felt like he made more headway, which meant he pushed a little farther into her heart. He hoped. It was obvious that Grace wanted him sexually. It wouldn't be long before she wanted all of him.

"Mmm."

"Goodnight, Gracie."

"Mmmm.” Grace couldn't put a word together. With a light chuckle, he hung up.

Well, that was that. Grace snuggled up to a pillow, drifting immediately off to a sound peaceful sleep.

Ethan put the phone down, got up, cleaned himself up, and went straight to the art room. He knew Grace inside and out as he worked on her portrait. He wasn't sure how or why, but he could just draw her, paint her. He could probably even sculpt her.

Many people paid good money to have him do their portraits. He would travel to their locations, on their dime, and do sittings for hours. He would take photographs each sitting and finish the final details at home. He didn't need a photograph of Grace. He knew her by heart.

He didn't have to work in the morning. He had to make her admit she wanted him as much as he wanted her. It was a tough game to play. If he knew of any other way, he would definitely do it. Her lips rejected him, told him they were friends. Her body called for him, told him she belonged to him and only him. She wasn't ready to admit her feelings. He would have to patient. That was killing him.

Grace sat at the laptop in her mother's room. She opened the file and began to type. It was well after lunchtime when her stomach demanded that she stop. When she stood up, her back was tight and her fingers stiff. Rolling her shoulders and flexing her wrists as she walked, she wished she had one of those shower heads like Ethan had.

The thought of the shower head made her think of the many things they did in the shower. That almost made her topple down the stairs. She caught her balance as she laughed at herself. Good grief, the man threw her off balance, and she wasn't even talking to him.

As she walked down the stairs, Grace passed two mirrors that hung on the wall in the stairwell. She always hated them because they were gold framed and gaudy. She turned around, went right back up, and grabbed them, pulling them off the wall. The discoloration in the paint behind it was startling. She would have to make a trip to the hardware store.

In the kitchen, Grace stacked the mirrors in what would become the donation pile. There was still plenty of food left from the prior week. Grace decided to marinate chicken for dinner and stick with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch.

"After all, Rome wasn't built in a day,” she said aloud. Once she had the chicken in the refrigerator and her sandwich ready, it was back to the book.

She was on a roll. Everything was pouring out of her: the good, the bad, and the ugly of growing up in Beaufort. She was laughing one moment, crying the next, and to her surprise the more she let go of her mother on paper, the more she felt her presence all around her, warming her and loving her. This was exactly what she needed to do.

As she typed a particularly funny memory, she thought of the man who made her happy again. She couldn't help wonder what he was doing today. What exactly does an artist do for “work"? Would he be painting or planning? She had no idea. She resolved to ask him the next time he called.

New York, New York

Ethan knew life had been too good to him lately especially when he noticed Chloe was in the coffee shop. Of course, it is a public place, so there really wasn't anything he could do. She had the right to buy coffee there.

"So, I see you're back to breaking hearts again.” Chloe cared less about the restraining order. Emma had made drastic plans. She didn't want to carry them out, but if it meant getting Emma back in New York, she would. She loved her, so she would do whatever it took. “I saw you and your little friend at the bistro the other day."

"Why are you doing this?” Ethan was civil. He didn't want to draw her fire at Grace, so he pretended not to care.

"No reason. I just thought you may be interested in a little information I have.” Chloe smiled.

Her big red lips had been enhanced since the last time he had seen her. If she continued to alter herself, she may just transform into someone else completely. It made him sad that any woman would torture herself like that, but Chloe tortured him so often he didn't care what she did.

"I am not interested in anything you have, least of all information.” Ethan took a step forward in line.

"Emma will be sad to hear it.” Chloe sighed and looked away. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, waiting for his reaction. “She was so looking forward to seeing you again."

Ethan didn't respond. He looked at the back of the person in line ahead of him.

"Well, maybe she will. With Megan's wedding and all, she's invited half of New York.” Chloe raised her head and pouted. “Except me."

"I wonder why?” Ethan stepped out of line and left. It was taking too long. He didn't want to be there another minute with Chloe. Why she told him about Emma he didn't know. He also didn't care. Now that he had Grace, he understood fully. He never loved Emma. He liked the idea of Emma. He could see Grace with his eyes open or closed. He could sketch her by memory. Emma's had taken months like all the rest. Grace was more than love; she was art, and she was his.

Chloe was frustrated and mad. He couldn't keep brushing her off. That wouldn't prove anything. She had to have Ethan. He had to want her. Walking to the window of the coffee shop, she watched him walk away. Why couldn't he just like her, a little, just enough? She had tried every one of Emma's tactics. Nothing worked.

A new plan was in order. Drastic measures, yes. Megan had a wedding coming up. She was sure she could find a date to it somehow. Ethan belonged to them. One way or another she had to help get Ethan back.

Ethan knew he had to tell Charles, his lawyer. He hated cell phones. People were always on them not paying attention. Now, he was one of them, but this was important. As he turned the corner and closed the phone, he stepped straight into someone.

"Oh, Miss, I'm so sorry.” Ethan was helping her pick up her bags.

"Ethan?” Emma Miller stood up and looked down at the large figure still squatting picking up shopping bags.

"Emma. What a coincidence.” Ethan smiled a half smile. Too much of a coincidence, he stood and looked down at her. Seeing her again made him all the more aware that he didn't feel a thing for the woman. She had pursued him relentlessly after buying him at an auction. His mother liked her, so he gave it a chance. That was a big mistake. “How have you been?"

"Famous.” She laughed. “No, really I'm fine. Busy, with films and such. I have an audition for Broadway. My agent thought it would be good to get back to my roots, give back to my city."

She barely took a breath. Her face was pink, and she was flustered.

"That's nice.” He handed her the bags. Emma wasn't from New York. She was from Ohio. It was funny to hear her call it her anything. She hated New York.

"I was hoping I'd run into you. I mean, I didn't expect to RUN into you but still.” Emma looked into his eyes.

He was more gorgeous now than he had been years ago when she met him. That was why she had agreed. After the magazine interview, all of the other up and coming women asked about him. He was HOT. Any woman alive could see that. He needed to be a movie star, but he loved his art work and that stupid gallery too much to leave. “Do you want to grab dinner or something, sometime?"

"I don't think so.” Ethan shrugged and pushed his left hand through his hair. Emma was a celebrity now. Surely, she had enough men tailing her she wouldn't still be wanting him, but that flicker in her eye unsettled him. “I'm seeing someone now, and it's pretty serious."

"You, serious?” Emma laughed. “I mean really Ethan you were only going to marry me because I asked, and we were together a while."

"So.” Ethan was being cocky, and he knew it, but something alarmed him about Emma now. Something wasn't right.

"Well, I just thought that, well, I haven't really dated anyone.” Emma was feeling jealous. Who could this woman be? She would no doubt meet her at Megan's wedding. Was it Chloe? Chloe had stayed when she left. She had kept her well-informed of his every move and, at the same time, made her own intentions clear. Was it the redhead? Shit! She needed Ethan. Her current situation demanded a man in her life, an available man. “Have you seen Chloe lately?"

"Yeah, as a matter-of-fact, I just left her at the coffee shop around the corner.” This was getting too creepy. They must be in it together. They were best friends. Surely, Chloe would tell her about the restraining order. “Look I gotta run. I'm late for a meeting."

"Oh, sure. You gotta go then you gotta go.” Emma looked into his big brown eyes and started blinking. Chloe was no match for her. Emma could take him, already had once before. She would again.

"I gotta go.” Ethan spoke quickly then started walking, at a brisk pace. His mind was racing.
These women are trying to kill me. What is going on around here? What's with the blinking eyes?
He needed to call Charles back. He hated to admit it, but he may even have to call his cousin, Joshua.

His cousin was finished with his second college degree. After being a cop for years, he had the notion to change his whole life, to become a teacher. The Big Dog, as he was known amongst friends, had just suffered a real heartache. Thank God, he didn't go to North Carolina. Grace wouldn't have to worry about moving. Joshua would have uprooted in an instant. Shit. That thought hit him like a ton of bricks. Joshua would leave for the woman he loved. He was a true romantic.

That had Ethan thinking and his gut burning. What would his grandpa do? He knew. He shook his head, wondering what Grace was doing now.

Beaufort, North Carolina

Grace put down the paint roller and looked around. The living room was now a nice sage green. It was the last to be painted. The whole house was more alive. The colors were earthy and the decorations simple. Several of the local church organizations had sent trucks to pick up the donations.

It had just about wiped out her savings account, but this house was now hers. It was a place she could live or a place she could visit. Either way, that would depend on Ethan.

The past few days he had called her every night with a new idea or color suggestion. She e-mailed him photos of the rooms as they were done.

For his part, he had a king size bed and a shower curtain delivered unexpectedly to her door. The delivery man didn't ask why Grace laughed herself to tears, and she was grateful for that. He also had a plumber install a new showerhead that felt like heaven. Grace worried that he spent too much money, but he didn't ask her permission. Things just showed up.

"The new pictures should be there next time you go online.” Grace lay in the oversized bed and wished Ethan was there.

"How do you like my bed?” His voice was low and sensual.

"It's big and lonely.” Grace sighed. “It feels good though. It's just all these paint fumes have made me sick."

"Oh, poor baby. You need me to come there and make it better?” Ethan was serious. Being apart from her was torture.

The longer he stayed in New York, the more women he ran into. The more women he ran into, the more he wanted to be with Grace.

"No, yes, no, it would be nice, but I'll be there soon anyway.” She didn't do all the work in the house on her own. Several neighbors helped out, and she stocked them with beer and had pizza delivered. The women were excited to see their little Grace do something with the place. It was surprising and heartwarming. Grace looked at the clock. “It's getting late. You should go to bed."

"You're not the boss of me.” He snickered. “There is no chain around this ankle."

"Ha, ha. Very funny.” Secretly, she loved when he played around like they had a future together. She hoped she could convince him to make it a reality some day.

"Oh, I almost forgot, I cleaned out my art room.” Ethan waited.

"What? Why would you do that? Where did you put everything?” Grace couldn't believe he had moved his work. Over the past few nights, she had learned how much he loved his work. They never talked about money, but he did portraits for a lot of important and famous people.

"Rumor has it I may be babysitting soon.” Ethan wanted her to tell him if it was true or not. Chase was sure Megan was pregnant and hiding it. “You wouldn't know anything about that would you?"

"No, and I don't think she is. Your brother is a little nuts right now with the wedding so close. I can't believe you would give up your room.” Grace was touched by the gesture.

"Are you kidding me? For the first little young in, what over thirty years, yeah, I can move it all back downstairs to the gallery.” Ethan was excited about his brother's prospect. He wanted kids; he wanted kids with Grace. “Aren't you at all hopeful that your cousin will have a baby?"

"I guess.” Grace thought about Megan and those acrylic nails changing a diaper. “You know, it sort of scares me to think of Megan with a baby. Those nails, four inch heels, and can you imagine her fat?"

"She would change; all women change.” Ethan still sounded hopeful. “I hope she is. It would serve Chase right. Hopefully, it's a girl."

"Why would you want it to be a girl, Mr. Optimistic?” Grace was tired. All the work she had been doing around the house made her tired all the time now.

"Because I'm the oldest, I should have the first boy,” he said it so matter-of-fact.

"Well, you're a little behind on the baby making, don't you think? If Megan's pregnant, your only hope is that she has a girl.” Grace laughed. Chase and Ethan really still competed like little boys in all things. Just like she and Megan did.

"Why are you laughing? You don't think I have baby making skills?” Ethan feigned offense.

"I'm sure you do.” Grace sarcastically chided him.

"Don't make me prove it."

His voice dropped and a warm feeling covered her like a blanket. She would love to see him prove it. In fact, she hoped someday he would, twice.

"How many kids do you want?” Grace blurted it out abruptly. At this point, they had discussed a lot of things as friends.

"Four, five, I don't know? How many are you willing to carry?” His tone was playful, but his question was serious.

"Uh, two, three max.” Grace played along.

"We'll see. I'm sure I can negotiate later.” Ethan took a deep breath and released it. “But for now, I have to get some sleep. You're keeping me awake with all this baby talk."

"Hey, you started it.” Grace yawned.