Chapter 120
Tilda
Ethan’s been at work a couple hours.
I’ve put the extra clothes he brought into a dresser drawer. Hung up his extra ranger shirt in the closet. Cleaned every dish from breakfast. Had a second coffee.
I pace across the living room for the fifth time and finally force myself to stop.
“Just text him.”
I sit on the couch.
Then I remember what we did here last night, and I stand.
If I sit there and think about that, I’m going to end up back in bed with my hand up my dress.
I move to the kitchen counter and pull out the stool.
This is where I watched Ethan cook last night. Still a sexy experience. But a safe one to think about.
Me: Do you have plans for tonight?
As soon as I send it, I worry that I’m acting needy.
Then I tell myself to stop overthinking it. Ethan and I clearly have a good time together. If he didn’t like hanging out, he wouldn’t have brought extra clothes to leave here.
Only a few seconds pass before he replies, and that mollifies the rest of my anxiety.
Duck Whisperer: I have to go to the gym after work.
Me: To work out?
I roll my eyes at myself. Obviously. What other reason would he go to the gym?
Me: Ignore that question.
Duck Whisperer: What question?
I grin, glad I married a clever man.
Duck Whisperer: I do plan to lift some weights while I’m there. But I really just need to go check on things. Make sure it’s good.
I make a face at the phone.
Huh?
Me: I have no idea what you mean.
Duck Whisperer: I have a cleaning team, but I need to make sure the cameras and stuff are running correctly.
Me: Hi, whoever you are. Can you put Ethan on the phone?
Duck Whisperer: I hope you’re happy. I just laughed, and now Liza is looking at me like I ate the fly off the windowsill.
I almost gag.
Me: What. The. Fuck.
Me: Did you eat a fly?
Me: Ethan. Answer me.
I press a hand to the base of my throat, feeling literally sick at the idea.
My phone lights up with a call.
I answer. And laughter greets me.
The hand on my throat drops, and my disgusted frown disappears.
Ethan’s laugh is one of my most favorite sounds.
“Starlight.” He’s still chuckling. “You’re killing me.”
“You’re the one who said you ate a fly.”
His exhale scratches over the line. “I said she was looking at me like I ate the fly.”
“It was a very specific thing to say.”
“Dammit, woman.” I can picture him shaking his head. And I can hear the smile in his voice. “I needed that.”
My brows furrow. “What? Why? Did something happen?”
Ethan sighs. “Quit being perfect. Nothing happened.”
My cheeks warm, but I decide to ignore the compliment. “If nothing happened, then why did you need that?”
“Matilda. I swear. Everything is fine.”
“But—”
“I was thinking about you. Then you texted. And started cursing at me. Acting all outraged… It was adorable. Are you done staring?”
I blink. “Me?”
“No, not you, Tilda. Liza, I can see you. You know that, right?”
I bite my lip.
I shouldn’t ask.
I shouldn’t.
“Who’s Liza?” Jealousy stains my tone green.
“Liza.” Ethan enunciates her name, and I assume she’s still listening. “Is supposed to be stocking the maps. But she’s too busy gawking over our conversation.”
“I’m gawking over the fact that you’re laughing,” an unfamiliar voice says. “I didn’t know you could do that.”
“Yeah, well, surprise,” Ethan deadpans.
I snort. “You’re a turd.”
“You’re the turd,” he whispers back.
I snort again.
“Who are you talking to?” the woman asks, clearly still stunned by this playful side of Ethan. And it makes me proud to be the one who brings it out.
Ethan keeps whispering. “Should I tell her? Shock her some more?”
I have no idea what he’s about to say. But I enjoy being in on the joke. “Tell her.”
Ethan clears his throat, then raises his voice. “I’m talking to my wife.”
Wife.
I hear paper rip.
Then the woman screams the type of scream that’s accompanied by jazz hands and running in place.
And I decide I like Liza.
“Let me talk to her.” The voice is louder. Closer.
My eyes widen.
Talk to a stranger?
No, thank you.
“Ethan,” I hiss into the phone. “Ethan.”
“I’m putting you on speaker.”
“Wait—”
“Tilda, meet Liza. Liza, meet my wife, Tilda.”
“Oh heavens. Is this real? Did our boy Ethan run off and get married?”
“I’m almost forty,” Ethan replies.
The woman huffs. “You’re the same age as my son. Now zip it.”
I snicker, and their dynamic gives my jealousy a swift death.
“Was that her?” Liza’s voice is quieter, like she’s asking Ethan.
“Tilda, put me out of my misery and say something.”
“Um, hi.”
Someone—Liza—claps their hands. “Oh, my Jesus. You’re real.”
“As real as the fly Ethan just ate.” I’m grinning so hard my cheeks ache.
“I didn’t eat the fly.” He sounds so put out that I dissolve into laughter.
“Oh, I like her.” Liza sounds like she’s beaming.
“I like her too.” Ethan says it easily. “When she’s not being a pest.”
“You like when I’m a pest.”
Ethan hums. “Maybe. Now, Liza, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take my call outside.”
“Oh, but—”
“We have visitors.”
“Well, crap,” Liza huffs. “It was nice to hear your voice, Tilda. I hope to meet you soon.”
“Same to you,” I tell her honestly.
“Okay,” Ethan says a moment later. “I don’t even remember what we were talking about before.”
“Um… I don’t— Oh, you were talking about the gym. About cleaners?”
“That’s right. My part-timers would let me know if something was up, but I still like to check for myself.”
“Part-timers? Do you… work there?”
“I own it.”
Silence.
Crickets.
“You own… what?”
Are we back to talking about the cleaning crew? Does Ethan have a cleaning company?
“I own the gym.”
I blink. “You own the gym. The one where we…?”
“Where I first got my mouth on you? Yes.”
My pulse thuds at the memory of our first kiss.
That was so hot.
I shake my head. Not the time, Tilda.
“Since when?”
He makes a thinking sound. “Sixteen years ago.”
“Sixteen?”
“Remodeled it about five back.”
“How?”
“New flooring. Machines. Updated—”
“Ethan.”
He chuckles, clearly proud of his own joke. “I told you, my parents had a lot of life insurance. Sandra and I split it. I bought a gym.”
“Well…” I can’t believe Ethan owns a gym, and I had no idea. I try to think back, if he gave any hints. But my time there is overshadowed by the kiss we shared.
“Well?”
“Well, I want a free membership.”
Ethan barks out a laugh. “Done. Any other demands, Wife?”
I tap my fingers on the counter. “I want to come with you tonight.”
“Done.” Ethan’s using that warm tone now. And it makes me want to hug him.
“Glad we could come to an agreement.” I blow out a breath and stand from the stool. “Okay, slacker, go back to work. I have a duck to feed.”
“Bye, Starlight.”