The Three-Week Arrangement (Chase Brothers) (15 page)

Ethan touched her arm. “Anything wrong?”

“Actually, no. The calendar approval is a load off, and talking with Bridget, I’m pretty jazzed about the internship.”

“I could tell,” he said. “I can see how
much it means to you.”

“I wish my mother would,” she said, glancing in the direction she’d last seen her. The woman was in absolute denial over what her daughter wanted. As many times as Rue had told her what she was going to do, she had a feeling her departure would come as a shock.

“So if you win, is it safe to assume you’ll be in the Arctic soon?” His usual demeanor had slipped
a notch. In the short time she’d known him, he’d quickly become her biggest supporter. Perhaps it was the gala itself, or maybe he was thinking of Amy.

She forced a smile, though his distraction unsettled her. “No, the seal pups are born in the spring. If I’m awarded the internship, I’ll be in the Galapagos.”

“Just like that,” he asked, “you pick up and go to the Galapagos? It’s that
easy?”

She frowned. “It’s not always easy, but it’s the job. It’s not like they never plan ahead, but if sharks are swarming somewhere and you care about sharks, you need to get your butt on a plane and immerse yourself in that. If you’re not passionate enough to go to the far-flung corners, it’ll show in your work. They want people who are passionate.”

He shook his head, and by her
guesstimate, it was half from thinking she was nuts and half out of respect. “They’d be crazy not to take you.”

She didn’t tell him about the job offer. She couldn’t, and not just because she was struck by how he genuinely seemed to believe in her.

A shadow crossed her vision before she had a chance to melt into the floor. “Well, if it isn’t the happy couple.”

Boyd Von Adler.
And he sure couldn’t fill out a tux like Ethan could. His dark hair was plastered down to the point of being immobile, and his movements lacked Ethan’s quiet confidence. But Boyd did have one thing right. She and Ethan were a happy couple in every sense of the word. At least, for the next few hours.

“I’m glad you finally understand that,” she said.

“I understand. I understand that
you’ve been lying to me. I asked around, and everyone who knows your
boyfriend
here knows he’s still faithfully married to a dead woman.” Boyd leaned in, obliterating her personal space. “I don’t like being lied to.”

Ethan didn’t say anything, but a quick glance told her he was on the verge of saying a
lot
of things. She laced her fingers through his and gave a gentle squeeze.

A couple
of people watched them, so she forced her voice low and her tone calm. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Ethan and I
are
seeing each other. And whether or not I’m seeing
anyone
, you don’t get to stake a claim on me. I. Am. Not. Interested. So back off.”

He did, an inch. And then a smirk crossed his face. “How about we discuss this over a dance?”

Boyd was already tugging on her
arm when Ethan stepped into
his
space, eyes blazing. “She said she wasn’t interested.” He wasn’t loud, but he was firm enough to stop Boyd in his tracks.

“What are you going to do about it?” Boyd sneered. “I have enough money to buy you and your quaint little family business and bury you all. I don’t suggest you make an enemy of me.”

“And I don’t suggest you make a victim of yourself.”

The words, hard as steel, cut through Rue for all the wrong reasons. Sizzling, delightful reasons.
Hello, Ethan’s inner caveman
. But the amusement was short lived, because Ethan was taller, broader, and infinitely more furious than Boyd, and she had the distinct feeling Ethan wasn’t just talking shit.

She eased between them, Ethan’s hand firmly in her grasp, and took a step away from
Boyd. With her back against Ethan’s front, he had little choice but to go with it. To Boyd, she said, “Are you not familiar with the word no? Because if you don’t, learn it. You keep pushing me, and I’ll press charges. Either that, or I’ll let go of Ethan’s hand.”

“If he touches me, he’ll go to jail.” Despite the threat, Boyd’s words wavered with a hint of uncertainty.

“If you touch
her
,” Ethan said in that deadly calm voice, “I’ll go to jail. And you can take all the satisfaction in that you want, but all the money and plastic surgeons in the world won’t be able to fix your face.”

Caveman Ethan was
hot
. A freaking inferno. And Boyd apparently had at least one brain cell because he wisely took a step back. “He won’t always be there, you know.”

There went the brain
cell.

“Whether he is or not,” Rue said, “the answer is no. I suggest you keep that in mind.”

Boyd scowled and looked as if he wanted to say something, but a quick glance at the growing number people watching them had his jaw snapping shut. “We’ll finish this conversation later,” he said.

After he disappeared into the crowd, Ethan said, “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“He’s just posturing. I think he knows he lost.”

Ethan turned her in his arms, no apparent concern for the lingering looks cast their way. “I don’t think he’s the kind of guy who ever knows that. Knowing would require admitting it, even to himself.”

“He and I have known each other for a while. We were actually friends somewhere between the ages of
boys are icky
and college. He was interested
but he never pushed so hard that I worried about his intentions. If his parents are laying on the same kind of pressure mine are, I almost don’t blame him for snapping.”

Ethan’s green eyes flashed. “Don’t justify what he’s doing.”

“I’m not,” she said quickly. “Just telling you there’s more there, but that doesn’t mean I trust him.”

His face relaxed and his arms tightened around
her. God, she wanted to dissolve into him. Or, screw that. She wanted to go to bed with him. She wanted him to take all that possessive, animalistic protectiveness and love her with it. “How about we get out of here?”

His brow quirked. “And do what?”

She stretched until her lips brushed his ear and whispered, “Get out of these clothes.”

“What about your hob-knobbing?”

“I paid for my ticket, and I arranged for some extra credit. I think I’ve done my part. Unless you want to spend some time with your family—”

“I work with them—all of them—six days a week, and we have dinner together on Sundays, although I have been known to skip a day in favor of a hot air balloon ride. I think we’ll all be okay.”

“Then let’s get out of here.”

He didn’t argue
that time. Just let her lead him through the doors and onto the sidewalk, where the night air felt heavenly. He must have had the same thought, because he immediately lost the bow tie and unbuttoned his collar. “God, that feels better. Want to grab some iced coffee?”

“Yeah,” she said with a wicked little grin, “but let’s get it to go.”

Chapter Fourteen

If there was anything odd about a couple in formal wear walking around Central Park in the relative middle of the night, no one showed it. But appearances weren’t everything. Despite the casual nature of the slow, moonlit stroll, she was wound so tightly, she thought she would explode. The park wasn’t anywhere near empty on a night like that, but the playgrounds were,
and she didn’t hesitate to pull Ethan to the first one they passed.

“I don’t think you’re dressed for the playground,” he said. “Besides, isn’t it closed at this hour?”

She shrugged. “The gate’s open. And there’s something I really want to do.”

“One of these days I’ll learn to stop asking questions,” he muttered. But he followed her to the back side of a large stone feature and
didn’t hesitate when she dragged him in for a kiss that quickly turned from semi-decent PDA to the kind of thing that had her wanting to fling clothes to the ground.

He broke free of the kiss, breathless. “Jesus, woman. What you do to me.”

“I hope that’s not a complaint.” As she spoke, she rubbed the hard ridge his pants did little to disguise.

With a growl, he launched back
into the kiss, dragging her gown upward around her hips, freeing her to wrap her legs around him while he ground against her. Every inch of him was hard, the pressure exquisite. She absolutely longed for him to plunge his fingers—or something else—inside her, but she had a feeling the sweet relief would only cripple her.

“This is new,” he murmured against her lips. “Wanting you like this.”

“How do you want me?”

He pulled back to kiss her neck, then closed his teeth gently on her ear. The contact sent an unexpected thrill through her, almost distracting her from the unanswered question.

Almost, but not quite.

“How do you want me?” she asked again.

He kissed her, sweetly this time, tugging on her lip. “I want to fuck you, hard, right here against this
rock. I want to fuck you so hard you scream, and I don’t care who hears you.”

Welcome back, caveman
.

She really,
really
liked where this was headed…or she did until that once familiar haunted look touched his eyes, and he withdrew. Not so much literally, but she felt it.

“I want to, but you deserve more than that.” There was a hitch to his tone. Maybe it was the countdown.

“For what it’s worth,” she said softly, “there’s something to be said for being fucked hard against a rock.”

He didn’t meet her smile, much less return it. The night bathed him in a bedroom light, but instead of leaving her thinking about every delicious, physical thing he’d ever done to her there, she felt him slipping away. Detaching.

“You said this was a first, wanting me like
this. What did you want before?”

He stepped away from the rock, bringing her with him, and gently eased her to her feet. Her dress fell more or less back into place, but she wasn’t worried about that. She worried instead about the look in his eyes.

“I wanted to make love to you.”

The words shot through her. They felt
right
. Too right.

He pushed his fingers through his hair.
The effect was sexy. Devastatingly so. “But I guess that was stupid, wasn’t it?”

“What? Why?”

“Because this was temporary. We both knew that going in.”

Her heart crumbled. She knew good-byes were in their future, but increasingly, she’d wanted
that
to be the temporary part. She wanted them to have a chance.

“I think we can make it work,” she said

His gaze cut to hers.
“What are you talking about?”

“I want to come back to you.” Saying the words out loud nearly brought her to her knees. They’d been at the back of her mind, a quiet whisper of a suggestion that she had made a habit of pushing back, but everything with Ethan was so
right
. With all they had between them, there was nothing left to deny. And she knew he felt the same way because he didn’t play
games. He was raw and he was real and she had to believe he wasn’t faking this thing with her. She’d been terrified that he’d never be ready for something more, so she’d talked herself into pretending that she was all about it being temporary for the sake of her career. But the truth was, with all of her career goals within reach, she wanted more. And she could have it, but only if he wanted to
meet her halfway.

God, she hoped he’d meet her halfway.

He held her gaze for a long time. Long enough for her to think he might admit that he agreed.

“I’ve never had anyone to come home to,” she said, wishing he’d say something already. “I think you’re that guy.”

“No,” he said, already shaking his head. “I’m not that guy.”

His words numbed her like none ever had.
She wasn’t even sure she’d heard him right. There was no way she had imagined this thing between them, which meant he was still running. Only this time he wasn’t running from a ghost. He was running from something real, and he had the nerve to look her in the eye and deny it.

“We both knew all along there was nothing to this,” he said. “You’ll go to the Galapagos, and then you’ll go to the
Arctic—”

“Actually,” she confessed, “Bridget told me about a job offer and I’m taking it. It’ll start as soon as I’m ready, or it can wait until after the internship.” Ethan stared incredulously at her, causing her to trip over her words. His denial tore through the last of her defenses—
I’m not that guy
—but she pushed ahead. She had to tell him. She had nothing more to lose. “The job is
with a travel journalist who’s writing an article about shark finning—”

“Shark
fishing
?” His mouth gaped, and she almost thought it was funny how he’d latched on to the most mundane of details. “Isn’t that the opposite of what you do?”

“No, finning. People catch them and cut off the fins for soup and toss the sharks back in the water, usually alive, and the poor things can’t swim or
fend for themselves.” Tears touched her eyes, though she doubted it had anything to do with sharks. Not this time. “From that point, they’re torn apart by predators or opportunists.”

He stared. He stared so long she couldn’t breathe. “And then you’ll go somewhere else. And somewhere else again. This is why,” he said. “You belong out there. You’re driven to tears standing in Central Park
in the middle of night by goddamned sharks dying. I’m not saying it’s not a worthy cause.” He stopped, mid-breath, seemingly mid-sentence. And then it was like he gave up.

“We’re going in opposite directions,” he finally said. “That’s never going to change.”

“But it can. If you want it to change, let’s change it.”

“No,” he said. “No, because I’m not going to be the one who changes
you
.”

He was scared, and he was denying it by pretending his decision was for
her
good. “I took a chance on you—”

“Of course you did,” he shot back. “That what you do. You fucking take chance after chance after chance. Well, guess what? This one didn’t work out. I’m not going to sit around here waiting for the next good-bye. I’m not going to sit here wondering if you’re even fucking
alive.”

“I’m not asking for that,” she said. But wasn’t she?

“Then what the hell do you want?” he asked, echoing her thoughts.

“I want to figure it out. I don’t want to give up on us.” She managed to say the words, but inside she was crumbling. She didn’t have answers. She only knew there had never been another man like him in her life, and she didn’t want to let that go. Not
without seeing where it went.

But if he felt the same way, he managed to sidestep it. Bitterly, he said, “It’s over, okay?”

“No it’s not.” The enormous hurt that had overtaken her barely left room for words, leaving her to force every syllable through the ache. “You already changed me. I want that. I want
you
.” She hated her pleading tone, but this was big. Didn’t he get that? “Don’t
over think this, Ethan. There’s only one question here, and that’s whether we want to see where it goes. If you’re willing to do that, that’s all I need. That’s all
we
need.”

He didn’t say anything. Not with his voice, and not with his face. He remained unreadable. Untouchable.

Gone.

And damned if she would beg. Anymore.

“I just have to do the calendar shoot,” she said
stiffly, “and then I’m leaving. It won’t take long. I probably won’t see you.”

“I should take you home.” He couldn’t even meet her eyes.

Something snapped inside her, but it didn’t leave her furious. It left her broken. “I’ll take a cab.”

“If you prefer,” he said, just as stiff. Formal. Polite. Not the voice of a man who’d loved her. She’d been right—it was only the temporary
nature of their fling that had kept Ethan coming back for more. “But,” he added. “I’m not leaving you alone out here. I’ll walk you.”

He did, not saying a word, and she didn’t trust herself to speak. Not with her heart breaking. When the cab drew to a stop, he opened her door, then handed the driver a couple of bills. And he watched as the car pulled away.

But he didn’t say good-bye.

He didn’t need to.

She’d heard that loud and clear.

And she’d probably keep hearing it for a long damn time.

…

Ethan felt like utter shit. He’d watched Rue break and he hit the ground with her, and despite the hour that had passed and the fact that he was no longer anywhere near Manhattan, he felt like he’d never left that spot.

She’d offered him everything.
What part of him could imagine living without her? But he’d seen the look on her face when she talked about the sharks and the seal pups and the Galapagos and he could not—
would
not—be the man who waited for her and wondered while she was gone whether she was alive or dead. He wouldn’t go through that kind of pain ever again.

He wouldn’t let her think for one moment that he’d fallen for
her.

Or that he wasn’t sure how he’d ever get up again.

He’d been worried about the gala, about getting out there and playing the part in front of an audience. But holding her had made everything right. And when Boyd had said that everyone knew Ethan was still married to his dead wife, Ethan had known, unequivocally, that it wasn’t true. Not anymore. He loved Amy, and he always would,
but Rue had changed him.

But not enough that he wanted to take that big of a risk.

Both Crosby and Liam had called him, but he ignored the phone in favor of sharing the sofa and the TV with the ugliest dog he’d ever seen. He scratched the one patch of fur she still possessed, and she rested her chin on his thigh. He threw back a beer and tried not to think about the woman who had occupied
his thoughts and his bed, but that was easier said than done. He had a great memory and had no problem remembering her sleepy, happy smile. Or what it felt like to sink into her, so hot and soft and ready for anything. The hole in his life would be immense, but he’d get through it. He’d already lost one incredible woman and survived. He’d do it again, but not by holding Rue. He’d get through
it by letting her go.

And as long as he kept believing that bullshit, he just might.