Chapter 16 #2
He stared back at her, cataloguing her face. The eyes that weren’t brown or green but something in between. The long lashes framing those eyes. The shape of her nose, her mouth. The way she peered up at him.
She was Paisley in miniature. Where was Trey? He didn’t see it.
“Hey,” Paisley said, and he jerked his gaze from Violet to her.
She was standing in the entrance to the small living room, smiling at him, her short hair and red lips striking.
She had on a pair of white cotton shorts and a black sleeveless button up that she’d left untucked.
Her toes were cherry red, and she wore a pair of white sandals with a small heel.
“Hey. You ready to go?”
“Yep. Vivi, can you put your drawing away so we can go?”
“No, it’s for Mr. Ethan.”
His gut clenched. “This is for me?”
She nodded enthusiastically.
“Thank you,” he said, hugging the drawing to his chest. “This is the best present ever. I’ll hang it up at home.”
“You’re welcome. Are we having pizza?” Violet asked, switching gears like she was a Formula One driver on a course. “I really like pizza.”
“Vivi,” Paisley said. “Mr. Ethan might have a different idea, and he invited us.”
Violet’s expression fell a little. “Oh.”
“I like pizza too,” Ethan said, and her little face brightened.
His teammates were always giving him shit about how picky he was when it came to pizza.
But hey, when you were raised in New York, you knew what real pizza was.
And it was not any of those delivery chains.
“I hear there’s a new place in town. You want to try it? ”
It might turn out to be the worst pizza ever, but what the hell?
Violet nodded. “Yes, please!”
Ethan looked at Paisley. “They’ve got lasagna and stuff too. That okay with you?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Then let’s get moving.”
“I should drive,” Paisley said, adding, “The car seat.”
“Well aware, babe. But I can move it.”
“You shouldn’t have to. Besides, it wasn’t easy the last time.”
It was true he’d had to wrestle it, but he didn’t expect he’d have to do that again. Everything had a learning curve, and he was confident he knew enough to make it happen quicker tonight. “Not a problem. Besides, your car is too small for me.”
She didn’t have an argument for that because she knew it was true. The three of them made their way outside after Ethan watched Paisley set the alarm. He took the key from her and locked the front door. “Sorry,” he said when he realized he’d done it. “Habit.”
“It’s okay,” she said with a smile. “I don’t mind you hovering over us when it’s this important.”
He would have them back before dark, but he’d told her to turn on the outside lights anyway. The lamps inside weren’t smart bulbs, but he was about to fix that. That way she could have them come on at dusk and stay on all night if she wanted.
Colleen Wright was in her front yard as they strolled to Ethan’s truck after he’d retrieved the car seat.
She seemed to be staring, but didn’t she always?
Usually before making some wild pronouncement about the spirts or her spirit guide.
Sometimes it was aliens she communicated with. She was sweet, but a little strange.
It’d taken him a while to get used to her. In New York, the psychics were a bit more abrupt. Colleen was like a Southern grandma. Except she talked to ghosts, communed with aliens, and usually dressed like a stereotypical psychic in a movie. She also drank kombucha rather than sweet tea.
“Hi, Mrs. Wright!” Violet yelled. “We’re going to get pizza!”
“Hi, Violet. Isn’t that just lovely? I hope you have a good time.”
“I will! I gave Mr. Ethan a kitty cat and he said it was pretty!”
Colleen drifted over. Instead of a caftan, she was wearing baggy overalls, rubber garden boots, and gloves. “A kitty cat, hmm?”
“A drawing,” Paisley said.
Ethan held up the hand holding the drawing. “Here we are. A real masterpiece.”
Colleen smiled. “I see. And what is the kitty cat’s name, Violet?”
“Ethan,” she said, sounding somewhat shy.
“Oh my, that’s a nice name.” Her gaze lifted to Paisley’s. Then she looked at Ethan before meeting Paisley’s gaze again. “Children know things, don’t they? They feel them, deep inside. Or perhaps one soul recognizes another. Recognizes where it belongs. This is a good thing.”
Ethan could feel rather than see Paisley’s tension. “You’re the expert, Mrs. Wright,” she said.
“My dear, there are some things that are obvious to anyone paying attention. Namaste, sweet people. I must return to my garden. Reba and I are having a seance tonight, and I need a few herbs.”
They reached the truck and Ethan secured Violet’s car seat in the back before lifting her into it.
He stepped back to let Paisley belt her in.
It was only a short ride to the pizza place located on the square.
Ethan found a parking spot and the three of them made their way to Luigi’s.
The restaurant was new, but the building it was in was old.
The awning was red, white, and green and there was a neon sign that said Pizza in red letters in one window.
It reminded Ethan of pizza joints in New York, but he didn’t hold out hope it’d be any good.
It was hopping, though, and they had to wait twenty minutes for a table.
He found himself talking to people as they greeted him like he’d lived in Sutton’s Creek for years rather than months.
The warm feeling in his chest was a good one, he decided.
Not quite belonging. Never that, because he didn’t trust it, but happiness in the moment. Sutton’s Creek was a good place with good people.
“Hi, Ethan! Rob, come meet my shooting instructor!” A middle-aged woman with long black hair waved at him as she arrowed in his direction.
Ethan stood. “Mrs. Harney. How are you, ma’am?”
“Oh please, call me Michelle.” She hooked her arm into his as she turned, her black hair whipping around, and urged a short, pudgy man forward.
The man was sweating and looked about as happy as a sweaty man inside a crowded restaurant could look.
“Rob, you need to meet Ethan. He’s the reason why my grip is so much better. He doesn’t let me cheat or quit.”
Paisley smirked. Or Ethan thought she did before she turned her head so he couldn’t see her face. Violet was playing with her tablet and not paying any attention to anything but the screen.
“Sir,” Ethan said as the man stopped and tipped his head back to gaze upward like he was contemplating the high jump at the Olympics. “Pleased to meet you.”
They shook hands and talked about Michelle’s shooting and her improved grip. She finally let his arm go, gave him a little wave, and then looped her arm into her husband’s as their name was called for a table.
Ethan sank down next to Paisley and pulled in a breath. She arched an eyebrow at him.
“Not a word. That was uncomfortable.”
She snorted. “Why? She’s an extrovert. An effusive one who likes to be the center of attention, I’m guessing. Her husband is probably going to start coming to lessons with her.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Because you’re six-foot-three inches of hard muscle and he’s not? Because she latched onto you like a lifeline and sang your praises while he got a crick in his neck looking up at you?”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” She giggled, and he loved the sound every bit as much as he once did.
Fuck.
“It’s not my fault I’m tall,” he grumbled.
Paisley’s laugh was sudden. “Tall,” she said on a wheeze. “That’s the problem. You’re just too tall.”
Ethan grinned because her laugh was infectious. “Glad I amuse you.”
“You do. Thank you. I didn’t know how much I needed to laugh.”
“Happy to help, Payz. I like making you laugh.”
Her smile hadn’t dimmed. “I like laughing. Been too long, really.” She glanced down at Violet, then put a hand on her daughter’s head and stroked her blond hair. Violet didn’t look up from what she was doing.
A good thing because Ethan was busy feeling too much as Paisley’s gaze tangled with his. They stared at each other, cataloguing faces, studying lips, remembering. At least he was remembering.
He wanted to kiss her. Wanted to lean forward, hook a hand behind her neck, and claim her mouth the way he once had. Mine.
Then he wanted to take her home, strip her naked, and kiss every inch of exposed skin before he slid his tongue into her pussy and made her moan his name the way she used to.
“Thank you, Ethan,” she said softly.
His voice was rough. “You’re welcome, Payz.”
Her lashes dropped. Before she could look at him again, before he knew what was in that gaze of hers, if she wanted more too, his name was called.
They followed the waitress to a booth where Ethan took the seat with a view of the door.
It was a booth in the back, near the emergency exit, and he had clear access if he needed to get Paisley and Violet out.
Not that he truly expected Trey to come through the front door with guns blazing, but it was second nature to look for escape routes.
He’d been too long in special ops not to plot an escape from every building he entered.
They ordered a large pizza with cheese and sausage, a basket of mozzarella sticks, and waters all around. Violet got busy coloring the placemat the waitress had given her, humming to herself as she worked. Occasionally she’d show them her work, but mostly she concentrated on what she was doing.
He and Paisley talked. Not about anything deep or meaningful. Small talk about her job, his job, the weather, and the upcoming holiday season where she’d been asked to participate in hosting a house in the historic district.
It was regular stuff, nothing exciting—and he loved every moment of it.
This could have been his life if Trey McCann hadn’t interfered.
Him, Paisley, and a child. But that child wouldn’t be Violet, and he couldn’t wish for her not to exist. She was a sweet kid, a little shy, but she seemed to like him.
That wasn’t anything to scoff at considering the way Trey had behaved.
The pizza arrived, and Ethan served slices on plates before he took one for himself.
“Moment of truth,” he said with a grin.
Paisley cut Violet’s into bite-sized pieces and the little girl practically bounced up and down on the seat as she waited. He felt her excitement in his soul. He just hoped the pizza was decent.
“Go ahead,” Paisley told him. “You don’t have to wait for us.”
“I’m waiting.”
He might have been raised on the streets, but he had manners. When everyone was ready, Ethan picked up his slice and bit into it. He expected disappointment, but that wasn’t what happened. The pizza was about as right as it could be for not being made in New York.
“It’s good,” Paisley said. “What do you think, Vivi?”
Violet nodded her head exaggeratedly. “I love it! I want to eat all of it!”
“Maybe not all of it,” Paisley told her. “You’d have a pretty serious tummy ache.”
Violet shrugged, and Ethan chuckled. Smart kid. Good pizza was worth a little discomfort.
“Okay, pizza snob, what about you?” Paisley turned to him and arched an eyebrow.
She was so damn pretty. Even with her hair cropped close to her head. How did it suit her so well? He’d loved her long hair, but he might just like this better. Then again, maybe it was just her he liked. Didn’t matter what her hair looked like.
“Hello?” Paisley snapped her fingers. “Earth to Ethan.”
He laughed. “Sorry, I was in heaven for a moment there. Yeah, it’s good. Best pizza in Alabama so far. Somebody in the kitchen must be from New York.”
“Oh, of course. It couldn’t be that somebody did their research and figured out a great pizza recipe.”
He shook his head. “Nope, can’t be that. Research only gets you so far. Pizza’s in the blood in New York.”
“I’ll get there one day,” she said. “See for myself.”
His heart hitched. They’d talked about New York when they were together before. He’d wanted to take her there someday, take her to all his favorite haunts. Show her Broadway and Times Square, too.
“When can we go camping?” Violet asked.
Ethan didn’t miss the shiver that rolled over Paisley. “Uh, not until it’s cooler, kiddo. Fewer bugs. Besides, you want to go when the leaves are turning and everything’s pretty. Now’s too hot.”
“Then you just turn on the air conditioning, silly.”
“Honey, there is no AC in a tent,” Paisley said. “That’s only in buildings.”
Violet looked disappointed. “Oh.”
“Promise I’ll take you, Miss Violet. But it’s gotta get cooler out. You can’t have a campfire in this heat, and you definitely want one of those.”
She tilted her head. “Why?”
“For toasting marshmallows and making s’mores.”
Her eyes got big. “Ohhhhhh.”
Paisley smiled at him before she ran her hand over her daughter’s hair. “Sometimes we have to wait for the good things, baby. Mr. Ethan will let us know when it’s time. Can you wait?”
She laughed and nodded again, then picked up her placemat and showed it to them both.
It was a pizza with a section to color, a slice to draw toppings on, and a puzzle.
Violet had drawn all over the placemat with her crayons, ignoring lines entirely, but Ethan and Paisley both praised it for the Picasso it was.
Violet preened. Then she dived into her pizza again, eating it with gusto and asking for more.
Ethan ate four slices, listened to Violet chatter about a stunning variety of topics, talked with Paisley, and enjoyed every moment.
It was the best pizza date he’d ever had.