Chapter 7
The door swung open to reveal a smiling Paisley in a cropped white blouse with wet spots in one area and a long maxi-skirt in shades of black and white. She wore white sandals on her feet and a pair of small gold hoops in her ears. Her hair was shorter than his, but it really worked on her.
She blinked at him with her pretty blue eyes, her smile clearly pasted on as she waited for him to speak.
Ethan asked himself again what the fuck he was doing here.
This hadn’t been the plan when he’d gotten up this morning.
He was doing some work with Diego’s crew on the next street over for a few hours this morning, but they weren’t starting for another hour because the homeowner had a personal emergency to take care of first.
Instead of going back to the range or, hell, over to Miss Mary’s Diner for coffee, he’d found himself here. Standing on Paisley’s front porch, feeling his heart constrict in his chest the instant he saw her.
“Hi,” she said, standing in the opening with her hand still firmly on the door. Not opening it all the way. Not inviting him in. Not that he needed to go inside. He didn’t.
“Morning. I was in the neighborhood.” Lame. He cleared his throat, hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “Working on a house on Maple. I, uh, was thinking about the situation.”
A line formed on her forehead. “What about it?”
He looked past her, into the small living room.
It was a neat house, sparsely furnished.
She’d had a small apartment in Florida when he’d met her, and she’d had stuff everywhere.
Maximalism, she’d called it. This was more minimal than anything.
Then again, she’d probably left Trey with only what she could carry.
Yet another thing to twist him into knots when he thought about it.
“You need protection. Do you have security cameras? An alarm system? That kind of thing.”
She shook her head. “No. I just moved here and started my job. I don’t have hundreds—or thousands—of dollars to spend on a security system right now.”
“It doesn’t have to be expensive.”
She sighed and rubbed her forehead. “I hear you, and I understand where you’re coming from. But, respectfully, I don’t have money to spare. What I need first is my toilet fixed. More furniture. A mattress without lumps to sleep on. Then maybe I can consider it.”
He could hear the frustration in her voice, the overwhelm. “What’s wrong with the toilet?”
She seemed surprised. “It’s running all the time. I had to turn off the water until I can figure out what the problem is and get it fixed. I have no idea how much it’ll cost.”
“I can fix it. Probably just the flapper not sealing all the way.”
“You can? How much is that?”
For the first time since she’d opened the door, she almost looked happy to see him. Almost.
“Few dollars for the part. Nothing much.”
He didn’t tell her he wouldn’t take her money because he knew she’d insist. So he’d fix the toilet and then refuse when she tried to pay him. If things were that tight, she needed everything she had.
“Oh wow. That’s good.”
“Yep.” He tipped his chin toward the interior of the house. “If you want me to look now, I can take care of it today.”
She hesitated a second, then pulled the door wide. “Sure, come on in.”
“Hi, Mr. Ethan!” Violet called out when he walked into the living room. She was standing in the opening to the kitchen, her blonde hair messy with sleep, her kitty pajamas shockingly pink. But she was smiling and waving at him, and he waved back. Her eyes were red though. Like she’d been crying.
The wet spots on Paisley’s blouse?
“Hi, Miss Violet. How you doing this morning?”
She shrugged. “Mommy says the fireworks are gone and I missed them because I didn’t wake up. I’m sad.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. But I’m sure you’ll get to see them next time.”
Her little shoulders sagged. “Yeah, I know. But what if I sleep then too?”
Ethan wanted to move mountains for this kid. Wasn’t his place, though. “I’m sure your mom will figure something out.”
“Mr. Ethan’s going to fix the toilet in Mommy’s bathroom, Vivi,” Paisley said. “Can you go and brush your hair for me? And get your Wednesday clothes out of the drawer and put them on, please. Close the door behind you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Violet said before trudging down the hallway.
Paisley waited until her bedroom door was shut before giving him a small smile. “She’s a little drama queen sometimes. Thank you for being nice to her about the fireworks.”
His chest tightened. What kind of asshole couldn’t be nice to a kid over a disappointment? He locked that thought behind iron bars before it could expand. Still, Trey McCann’s face appeared in his head and his chest grew tighter.
“No reason not to be nice. She’s a kid. Everything’s dramatic at that age.”
“I suppose it is. I hate that she’s disappointed, but if I’d forced her to wake up last night, you’d have thought somebody’d replaced my kid with a tyrannosaurus rex.”
“Grumpy, huh?”
“Beyond grumpy. Rampaging, more like.”
He laughed. “That was me until I joined the military. They kinda take that shit out of you and force you to adapt. Plus coffee. That helps.”
She blinked suddenly, her lips rolling in. Her voice was softer when she spoke, like she was holding down an emotional response. “I’ve thought of giving her coffee, but I think it’s a little premature.”
“Probably. But you know, we can make fireworks happen if it’s important to her. The range is outside town limits, on farmland, and we can shoot some off there. Nothing too big so we don’t scare the cattle a couple miles down the road, but a few wouldn’t hurt.”
“You would do that?”
“Why not?” He wished somebody had cared enough to make his wishes come true when he’d been a kid. “It’s not hard. The stands are still open for a few days.”
“How much do you think it’ll cost?”
“Nothing. I can afford a few fireworks, and the guys will pitch in too. We’ll all enjoy it, so no reason to think you need to pay for anything.”
She seemed to consider it. “I want to contribute though. It’s only fair. And I don’t want you to do it if it’s inconvenient. Your friends were all there last night. They might be fireworked out.”
There was no way he wasn’t doing this. He knew what it was like to have your life torn apart as a kid, and if he could make one little girl smile for a few minutes when her life had been turned upside down so recently, he was doing it. But he wasn’t telling Paisley that was the reason.
“I’ll talk to the guys. Let you know. But I’m thinking maybe Friday or Saturday.”
Her eyes shimmered before she turned away. “Thanks. Let me show you the bathroom.”
He followed her, deliberately keeping his gaze on the back of her head and not letting it slide to her ass.
A part of him was busy asking what the hell he thought he was doing.
He ignored it. Paisley had meant something to him once, and she was in a bad spot in life. Least he could do was help her out.
Even if it killed him to think of her with Trey. She must have fallen for Trey pretty quickly, or she’d never have married him. Made a kid with him.
He ground his teeth together and forced down the anger blooming hot inside.
It wasn’t just that Trey had deliberately sabotaged his relationship with Paisley, but also that he’d had nearly five years and a child with her while Ethan had spent that time moving from one empty encounter to the other whenever he needed release.
He felt cheated. And that wasn’t even the worst of it. The worst was how Trey had treated the woman and child he should have loved most. If they’d been Ethan’s, he’d never want to see a moment’s fear or sadness on their faces. And he damned sure wouldn’t be the one putting it there on purpose.
“In here.”
Her bedroom was sparsely furnished, like the rest of the house. There was a bed, a nightstand, and a mirror. Her bed was made, though she didn’t have a bunch of pillows on it like she used to have. Everything about this room was simple, uncomplicated.
It smelled like her, though. Like roses and vanilla with a hint of citrus. A sweet, floral scent that was hers alone. He’d smelled that combination on other women, but it wasn’t the same at all. He’d wondered if it was his memory playing tricks on him over the years.
It wasn’t. Paisley’s scent was uniquely hers.
The attached bathroom was bigger than he’d expected, with an old iron tub/shower combo, white subway tiles, and a bright floral wallpaper.
The sink was a single, but the vanity ran a good forty inches.
Plenty of room for knickknacks and toiletries.
The floor had white octagonal tiles with black rosette inlays.
A typical old-style bathroom that still had the original features.
Except maybe the wallpaper. That was garish and probably stuck to the wall with industrial strength ancient glue.
The single window was tall and surrounded by a stained wood casing.
No whitewash here. Ethan went over to the toilet and took the lid off.
The water had drained out of it so he bent down to turn it back on at the rear of the toilet.
The tank started to fill immediately. The water reached the top of the overflow tube and the float stopped moving.
But it was still trickling into the toilet, which meant the water would start to run again when the level dropped.
He turned the water off and looked up to find Paisley in the doorway, arms crossed, nibbling her lip worriedly.
“Relax. It’s the flapper. I’ll pick up a new mechanism and replace the whole thing. It’s less than twenty bucks.”
“Thank God for that. And thank you for looking. I really thought it was something more complicated.”
“Nah, toilets aren’t that difficult. Even if it was the wax seal between the toilet and the floor, it’s not a lot of money and I can fix it.”
“It’ll be nice to have my own bathroom again. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.”