Chapter 3 #2
“Nope. Pick up and drop off.” His mouth tightened. “Then next time we want our motor fixed, we might just go elsewhere, or I’ll do it my damn self. I’ll make sure everyone in this town is aware how you do business.”
He stood there and finally he flashed a smile, his whole body broadcasting satisfaction and my world tilted again. “I thought you’d see it my way. I want it by this weekend. We have a charter and if I don’t have that boat, I’m taking the lost rental out of your fee.”
He disconnected the call, then spied me. “Good morning. I smelled the coffee when I came in, and look at you. You’ve already filled everything and you’re rolling silverware. You’re on the ball and it’s really early.”
“Good morning,” I said, flushing with the praise. Most of the people I’d worked with had been happy with my performance, but coming from Ethan it affected me more.
He smiled at me as he passed, and God, I got a whiff of him and he smelled so good, spicy and citrusy. He went behind the bar and started looking at his inventory. I went back to rolling silverware, reminding myself to keep stay in control. Temporary. I was just passing through.
The morning went off without a hitch. Geez, I had never worked in a place that was so busy for every meal.
But after tasting Brax’s food, especially the gumbo, I wasn’t surprised.
I was heading out of the kitchen with a plate full of chicken fried steak for one of the customers, when a man caught my attention at the front door.
My lungs seemed suddenly incapable of taking in air.
I tried to swallow a mouthful of oxygen and then another as my legs began to shake.
Panic clawed its way up the back of my throat.
In my peripheral, he looked just like…oh God…
had he found me? I whipped my head around, and the plate clattered to the floor smashing, food going everywhere.
People were looking, and Ethan came over immediately. “It’s okay, sugar,” he said softly. “Accidents happen. I’ll help you get this right.”
I barely heard him, my attention focused almost completely inward, everything else becoming vague and peripheral. A shudder of tension rattled through me, stronger than its precursor. I tried to steel myself against it, but failed.
Failed.
I had been so ineffectual, so scared. I couldn’t handle anything as a wave of helplessness surged through me.
I rose and swallowed, feeling even more foolish, my hand to my mouth, blinking furiously at the tears that pooled and swirled in my eyes, blurring my view of him.
“I’ll get a broom and mop,” I blurted out and fled into the kitchen to the storage closet where the cleaning supplies were. For a moment, I just stood there.
“Everything all right?” Brax asked. I jumped and spun around. “Yes,” I said. “I dropped a plate. Clumsy. I’m so sorry. You can take the breakage out of my pay.”
“Not necessary. It was an accident. Don’t get worked up over it, sugar.”
I nodded, forcing a smile, and he left. I reached for the broom, mop and a bucket, but had to take a breath to stem the flow of more tears.
I wasn’t going to cry. Both these guys were so darn kind.
I remembered when I had made a mistake, any mistake, I was berated and belittled for it for days.
Their kindness touched something deep inside me, something I hadn’t known before.
It was totally uplifting and made me feel completely warm inside.
I didn’t know how to handle this consideration.
“Lawson?”
I whirled to find Ethan standing at the door looking more than concerned. Here I was trying to just get through this without burdening anyone with my problems, and I was acting like a dang fool for no reason. It hadn’t been him. Oh, God. It hadn’t been him. I’d overreacted.
“I’m coming,” I said, dashing away my tears, but when I turned around, he was closer. There was no doubt he knew I’d been crying. His face softened into one full of compassion.
“Aw, Tinkerbell, there’s no need to cry,” he said gently. “No harm done. It’s just a plate and some food. Brax has already gotten him another meal. No need to worry.”
Trembling slightly as the heat from his body drifted over my skin, his scent even more compelling this close, I held my ground. My breath caught in my throat as he lifted a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.
“You both are so kind,” I whispered. He stepped closer and my nerves stretched a little tighter.
He reached out again and before I knew it, he was hugging me. Simply hugging me. “Ethan,” I said breathless and hating it. My nerves gave a warning tremor as control of the situation seemed to slip a little further out of my grasp.
He felt solid, warm and hard. Every lonely cell in my body cried out at the connection, so desperate for human contact. I hadn’t allowed myself any friends on the road. It opened too many doors, so I had no idea why this felt so damn right. I needed it so much.
For a few moments, he just held me, there was nothing overt about it, nothing sexual, nothing but a man comforting a woman. I went up on tiptoe, my arms wrapped around his neck, the hair at his nape silky, his skin smooth and warm. I was sick with the need to touch him and have him touch me.
He squeezed me hard, then let me go, the brief contact just that—too brief.
He slipped his fingers under my chin, his eyes broadcasting that he was aware it wasn’t the plate or the mess that had upset me. He looked like he wanted to ask me something, but then changed his mind. “C’mon, let’s go get this mess cleaned up.”
We made quick work of it and the rhythm of my serving snapped back into place.
I couldn’t quite keep the need to flee at bay, but I simply didn’t have the means right now.
It hadn’t been either of the men I feared at the door, just someone who bore a close resemblance to him. I could breathe easy. For now.
The breakfast crowd followed the lunch crowd with people standing at the door.
I approached one of the tables Ethan had pointed out as reserved for Outlaw guests.
Two women had entered and sat down. Both women had dark hair and pretty features.
One was dressed in a simple flowered dress with sandals and the other in a pair of cutoff shorts, a flowing top, very bohemian and cowboy boots.
“Hello, ladies. I’m Lawson.” I offered them each a menu and said, “Drinks?”
“We’ll both have iced tea,” the bohemian said.
“Unsweetened for me,” the one with the pretty dress said with an accent that was pure Yankee.
“I’ll be right back.” I walked to the bar and Ethan smiled at me. “Two iced teas, one unsweetened,” I said.
“Coming up.” Our hands brushed as he gave me first one, and said, “Here’s the sweetened.” Then the next. “And unsweetened.”
I turned away trying to keep my heart from fluttering every time he looked at me. That might be impossible.
“I don’t want a limo…it’s too pretentious and over-the-top for me. I don’t want to start my wedding day out with something white and stretch.”
“How about a horse-drawn carriage? It’s so romantic.”
Both women looked up at me, and I thought I might have offended them by butting into their conversation. I don’t know what got into me. Mostly I minded my own business.
“That is quite brilliant.” The girl with the cowboy boots said, “Hello, I’m Skylar and this is Samantha.”
“Samantha,” I said. “The pie making master?”
“Yup that’s me. I see someone has been singing my praises.” She smiled broadly. “I can cook as well as Brax, but don’t let him hear you say that. You’re new here, right, Lawson?”
“Yes, just been here a few days and it’s a pleasure to meet you both. I’m supposed to make sure you get the VIP treatment.”
Both women busted out laughing. “That’s good. I’m getting married to Brax’s best friend, Jake Sutton, and Samantha is going to be my sister-in-law. She’s married to Jake’s brother Chase who happens to be best friend and business partner with Ethan the bartender.”
“Yes, of course, I know Ethan.” I tried to keep my voice even, but both of them exchanged glances.
“He’s quite gorgeous, wouldn’t you say?”
Oh, damn my fair skin and blonde hair. I felt my face flush. “He’s been very kind to me.”
“I bet he has,” Samantha said with a smile. “You are cute as a button.”
Desperately needing to change the subject, I said, “Did you have a chance to look at the menu or do you need more time?”
“Oh, shoot, we didn’t. We’ve been so caught up with my wedding.” Skylar slid a book over and opened it to a page with gowns. “What do you think of these?”
I looked at the three gowns she had cut out of magazines.
“I’m guessing your favorite flowers are roses.
I think you’ve probably been leaning toward this one.
” I pointed to a gorgeous off the shoulder with a mermaid skirt.
There were rose appliques on the bodice with delicate roses sewn into the train.
“How did you know that?”
“There are roses stitched into your boots and you're wearing tiny pink roses in your ears. It was a guess.”
She glanced at Samantha. “A pretty good one.” Then she turned the page with numerous pictures of flowers, bouquets, arrangements, and decorations. “Take a look at the—”
“Ladies,” Ethan said coming up to the table. “You realize you’re keeping our best waitress here to pour over wedding plans when there are hungry people to serve,” he said good-naturedly.
“Oh, we’re so sorry, but she’s been such a great help. What time do you get off?” Skylar asked.
I was taken aback. “Me?”
“Yes, why don’t you join us for dinner since you’re new in town. We can have a girl’s night,” Samantha said.
“Be careful of those two,” Ethan said in a stage whisper and both of them laughed.
“What do you say?”
My connection was instantaneous as if I’d known them my whole life. “Yes, of course. You’re VIPs after all.”
Later that night I was doing my nightly routine after enjoying the time of my life with Sam and Sky.
I knew it was stupid and risky, but they had been so much fun and I’d had a little too much to drink.
After I’d washed my hair, I was a little too dizzy to bend over and blow it dry, so I headed out of the bathroom.
“Lawson?” Ethan was standing there taking in my wet hair and my comfy sleeping clothes.
I closed my eyes, mortified that this man I knew little about and respected so much was witnessing this—this embarrassment. God, I wanted to have a least some small scrap of pride to cling to, but that too, was tearing out of my grasp.
“Ethan,” I said, forcing a bright smile.
“My shower is broken, and I was just washing my hair. Please don’t mention this to Braxton.
” My hold on my control, slippery and tenuous at best these days, slipped a little further.
I felt as if I was hanging on to it by the ragged, bitten-down remains of my fingernails and it was still pulling away.
I had come here to refuel, but it was turning out to be so much more than a way stop.
“Oh, okay. Would you like me to walk you to your car? It’s late.”
“No, thank you. I’m fine,” I mumbled. Before he could say anything, I rushed past him and got into my car.
Starting the engine, I drove out of the parking lot.
A few miles later, I pulled off onto a dirt road, finding a place where I could spend the night.
I locked the doors and climbed into the back seat, quite aware that he hadn’t believed a word I’d said and not able to shake the compassion and sympathy in his eyes.
God, I didn’t want him to care.
I was going to leave, had to leave, even if everything in me wanted to stay in this safe haven. But nowhere was safe, I reminded myself. What would happen to these people if he caught me here? I couldn’t chance it.
I’ll find you and when I do, you’ll be sorry. Sorry for a long, long time.
The past and present merged in my mind like a terrible tangle. I wrapped my arms around myself, rocking a little on the back seat for comfort. I bit my lip to stem the tears that gathered in my eyes and formed into a solid lump in my throat.
I buried my face in the pillow, fought the urge to sink down and sob. The tears choked me. The weakness sapped the stability from me and made me curl into myself. The memories washing over me in a relentless wave.
No longer able to fight it, I turned and covered my mouth, pressed my face deeper into the pillow. “Oh, God,” I whimpered as the despair cracked through my armor and the tears squeezed past the tightly closed barriers of my eyelids.
My hand fisted against my mouth as I sobbed silently for a moment, releasing a small measure of the inner tension, then swallowed it back, gagging on the need to cry even as I ruthlessly denied myself the privilege. I swiped furiously at the tears with the heels of my hands.
I couldn’t do this, allow myself to cry. I was stronger than this. My path was clear. Using anger to burn away the other emotions, I closed my eyes and shut out everything. Emotions, friendships, compassion and God help me, weakness.
But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to shut out Ethan Fairchild.