Chapter 103
Tilda
A pressure builds between my thighs.
And builds.
And then my eyes pop open because I’m sliding up the mattress.
Ethan’s eyes are just inches away, and I can tell from the crinkles next to them that he’s smiling. “Morning.”
I tighten my thighs around his leg. “Morning.”
Unlike that first morning together when I accidentally kneed him in the nuts, this time Ethan’s thigh is between mine. And he’s using his leg strength to slide me up the mattress so we’re eye level.
“How does it feel to be thirty?”
My grin is sleepy. “Not so bad.” I wedge one of my arms up between us to cover my yawn. “How does it feel to be… How old are you?”
“Thirty-nine.”
I lift my brows in exaggerated surprise. “Wow. So old.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “If you don’t like ’em old, you should’ve asked my age before you asked me to marry you.”
I scoff. “How dare you suggest such a thing before coffee.”
The thought of coffee has me yawning again.
Ethan presses a kiss to my nose. “Go back to sleep. I just wanted to say bye before I left.”
“You’re leaving?” The jolt of depression that hits my stomach is so instant that it makes me frown.
His replying smile is soft. “I have to go to work.”
Oh. Right.
“You can shower here if you want. I’ll make us some coffee.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know. But I won’t fall back asleep anyway. And we can drink it on the back deck.” I probably could fall back asleep, but I’d rather start my day now with Ethan than alone in two hours.
“As long as your damn guard duck stays on the ground.”
My grin is less sleepy this time. “I can’t believe you caught her.”
Ethan rolls his eyes. “That little demon weighs all of two pounds.”
“Two pounds of flapping wings with a beak.”
The door to the house opens, and I watch from my chair as Ethan opens the screen door and steps out onto the deck.
And I keep watching as he holds the doorframe open and sticks his other hand through the big empty spot where a screen should be.
He lifts a brow.
I shrug. “It was like that when I moved in. I usually just step through it.”
He lets the door shut and grabs the mug of black coffee sitting on my armrest. “I’ll fix it.”
Rather than replying, I take a sip, enjoying my sweetened creamer but thinking about the instant coffee with sugar I had at the cabin in the woods.
Ethan is dressed in jeans and one of his tan short-sleeved ranger shirts—which he fetched from his truck this morning.
I tuck one leg under me and shift in my chair, so I can look at Ethan as he sits in the one on the other side of the doorway.
His hair is still damp, combed back from his face. And he looks sexy as always with his tattoos on display.
“Did you always want to be a park ranger?”
Steam trails up from his mug as he lifts it to his mouth.
I’m in my matching blue sweatpants and sweatshirt, good for the cool morning air. But Ethan looks perfectly comfortable in his short sleeves.
He lifts a shoulder. “I always liked the outdoors. But hadn’t really thought about it as a career when I was growing up.”
“What did you want to do?” Being a ranger seems so right for Ethan that I can hardly imagine him doing anything else.
“Firefighter.”
I nod as I consider it. “Still a service to your community. A sexy uniform. I guess I can see that.” He shakes his head at my uniform comment. “So what stopped your firefighter dream?”
He hesitates, and I get the feeling that I shouldn’t have asked. “I was in the process of applying for a position down in the Springs when my parents passed away.”
The sour taste of regret coats my tongue, and I drop my eyes to my lap.
I can’t believe I brought this up.
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t’ve asked.” My voice comes out weak.
“Tilda.”
My heart aches for Ethan. “I really didn’t mean—”
“Matilda.” He uses his serious tone, and I finally meet his gaze. And… he doesn’t look upset. Not at all. “I’m okay talking about this. I swear.”
“I—”
“I fucking swear.” His lips pull up into a small smile. And I think I believe him.
“But if you don’t want to—”
“I want to tell you.”
I heave out a breath. “Fine. But I can’t promise I won’t cry.”
He shakes his head. “You’re too good for your own good.
” I scrunch up my nose, but he ignores me and keeps talking.
“I was nineteen and had just moved into an apartment with some friends. Probably should’ve saved my money and continued living at home, but I’d lived in this town my whole life and wanted to see something else. ”
“Lonely?”
Ethan nods. “I’d never known any firefighters, but it sounded like a fun job, and you can do it without extra schooling. My parents always offered to pay for college, but that was never my thing.”
“That’s a nice offer.” I hold my mug in both hands, feeling colder than before.
Ethan sighs. “Yeah, they were good people.”
“So… nothing like my family?” I try to joke.
His next sigh is a little heavier. “I wish you could’ve met them.”
“Me too,” I whisper, meaning it.
Ethan takes a sip of coffee. “They were heading to the airport to go on vacation… and there was a freak accident on the highway. It was awful, but from what I was told, it was instant, so they didn’t suffer. And I think that’s the best anyone can ask for.”
I swallow, the urge to cry already building in my chest. “When you were nineteen?”
“Yeah.” He says it casually. Like you’re not still practically a child at that age. “My sister was twelve.”
“Sister?” I choke out. “Was she…?” I can’t finish the question.
I didn’t know he had a sister. And if she died…
Ethan’s soft expression gives me the answer before he speaks it. “She’s fine. She wasn’t with them.”
I exhale. “Thank fuck.” He smiles at my cursing. But then I realize how bad that sounds and hold up a hand. “Not that the rest isn’t awful. Just—”
“You don’t have to explain. I know exactly what you mean. She was staying at the neighbor’s for the weekend. If I’d lost her too…” Ethan shakes his head. “It was bad. But that would’ve been worse.”
Nineteen. “What did you do?”
Ethan lifts his mug and tips it toward me. “I’ll tell you, but drink your coffee, Starlight. Don’t let it get cold.”
I lift my mug to my lips and sip, even though the flavor tastes too sweet now.
“I packed up all my shit that night, after the call.” The call. When he found out his parents died. “And I moved back home to take care of Sandra.”
“I can’t imagine.”
He blows out a breath. “It was definitely an adjustment for both of us. But we’ve always gotten along.”
“Is that when you became a ranger?”
“Not right away.” Ethan takes another drink.
“Our parents… We had a modest house. They had normal jobs. My mom was a dental hygienist. My dad worked at a factory as a floor supervisor. But after they passed, we discovered they both had pretty large life insurance policies. And some saved money that, as far as I could tell, came from my mom’s dad.
It was… a shock.” He shakes his head like he can’t believe it all over again.
I give him a crooked smile. “Family members are like that sometimes.”
He lifts his mug in a toast, catching my meaning.
“It was a surprise and a safety net that meant I didn’t need to work right away. So while Sandra went to school, I worked on getting my degree in natural resource management. I hadn’t wanted to go to college, but deciding I wanted to be a park ranger motivated me.”
“What made you decide?”
“The hours of being a firefighter wouldn’t work, not with having to take care of Sandra.
And I knew I couldn’t pick a career that dangerous.
Sandra… well, you get it.” I nod, glad he doesn’t voice what could’ve happened.
“But I still wanted to do something that left an impact. I wanted to work outdoors. I’ve always liked nature and wildlife and getting my hands dirty.
And I knew being a ranger was something my parents would’ve been proud of. ”
That wave of emotions builds in my eyes again. “That’s really sweet.”
Ethan sighs and points at me. “Keep drinking your coffee.”
I sniff. And pretend to take a sip. “So do you still live in the house you grew up in?”
“No. There were too many memories there, and neither of us was willing to move into Mom and Dad’s old bedroom, so we sold it and downsized into the house I have now.”
“Where is it?” I feel weird asking, even though I know I shouldn’t.
“About twenty minutes from here, other side of the park entrance.”
“So, close to your work.”
He nods.
“And Sandra?”
“She lives near the Springs, just a few minutes from the salon where she has her own booth.”
“Salon?”
“She does hair.”
I perk up at this detail. “Oh, that’s cool.”
Ethan’s eyes lift from mine to take in my purple locks, which are currently a frizzy mess from sleeping.
And it makes me think of the birthday card. And the way he used a marker to color in the hair. And how he used that marker to write inside it. And how it’s now my most prized possession.
I bite my lip. “Can I give you a hug?”
Ethan pushes himself up to standing, sets his mug on the armrest of his chair, and holds his arms open. “Come get your hug, then I gotta go to work.”
I’m careful not to spill what’s left of my coffee as I do the same thing Ethan did, leaving my mug on the chair.
Not wasting any time, I walk straight into Ethan’s body.
He lets out a grunt at the collision but doesn’t move, just wraps his arms around me.
I grip the back of his shirt with both my hands, holding him tight.
His exhale ruffles through my hair, and then a weight—that I imagine is his cheek—rests against the top of my head. “Don’t feel sad for me.” He strokes a hand down my back. “They were great parents, and I miss them, but I’m okay.”
“It’s still sad.” My face is squished against his pecs, so the words come out muffled.
Ethan takes a deep inhale, his chest expanding with the motion.
I want to ask if I can meet Sandra. I’d like to get to know her. But I stop myself from voicing the request.
We might technically be married, but we only met… two weeks ago? One?
He can’t exactly introduce me as his wife. And I don’t want to make a terrible first impression by being the girl who pressured her brother into marriage.
Ethan wraps his arms high around my shoulders, and I feel his body relax. Like he’s settling into the position. “What did you do for work before you moved here?” His question rumbles against my ear.
I make a face; my job history is not impressive. “Don’t you have to go?”
“I have time.”
“What time is it?”
He hums. “Don’t know.”
I smile against his chest. “You’re a dork.”
I feel him shake his head. “You can do better than that.”
“Huh?” I try to look up at him, but he moves a hand to the back of my head, holding me in place.
“You can come up with a better insult than dork.”
A laugh bubbles out of me as I remember my previous attempt. “I guess I’m not properly motivated.”
“I’ll work on that.” He slides his hand back to my shoulder. “Now tell me. If it’s something you think I won’t approve of, I promise I won’t judge you.”
I’m not sure what sort of job he’s imagining, but I believe him. He wouldn’t judge.
“It’s nothing exciting. Just retail.”
His chest does that vibrating thing again. “Tell me more.”
“I hated it.”
Instead of laughing, Ethan holds me tighter. “I’m sorry.”
I relax into his hold. “No, it’s okay. I’m just being dramatic.”
“It’s not dramatic if it’s true.”
Wow. Okay. That’s validating.
“Thank you.” I can’t say it louder than a whisper.
“What sort of retail?”
“A makeup store. A lighting showroom. A wholesale kitchen appliance store.” I exhale. “Some other crappy places, all paying minimum wage. I know I could’ve made more working for tips in a restaurant but…” I shake my head. “Short interactions with customers were enough.”
“Now that you’re here… Is there anything you want to do?”
I take time to think about the question, but the answer is the same as it was last week.
“I don’t know.” I flatten my hands on Ethan’s back.
“I moved out on my eighteenth birthday. Graduation was a couple weeks before. I had some money from… Uncle Jack.” My throat tightens as I remember that detail.
I’d forgotten. “He sent me a card and check in the mail that was enough for first and last month’s rent.
And I’d already been working after-school jobs… ”
Ethan’s strong fingers curl around my upper arms. “I’m glad you had that.”
I nod. Then I nod again. “Ethan?”
“Yeah, Starlight?”
“Can I tell you something?” Emotion threatens to choke me. But I need to tell someone.
“Anything.” Ethan presses his mouth to my hair. “Always.”