Chapter 8
“Here’s your room. We’ll get the mat set up in the back yard while you shower.” Ethan led her to a rustic wood door halfway down the hall.
Kate gazed up at him closely in the darkened hall, trying to read through his carefully spoken words, but all she got was a guarded expression. “Um, thanks. I should only be about ten minutes.”
“I’m bunking in there.” He pointed to the open door right beside hers.
A single black bag sat unpacked in the corner. Any other evidence of Ethan didn’t exist. “Where is the rest of your stuff?”
“I try to keep it lite,” he said matter-of-factly.
“You mean that’s all you brought?”
“When you live on the road, you figure out what you really need and don’t need.”
“Don’t you ever go home?” Kate asked.
He shrugged. “Don’t have one.”
“A home?”
“Nope.”
She blinked up at his blank expression. “Where do you live then?”
“Where ever I end up.”
“What about your family? Where did you grow up?”
“Don’t have one of those either.” Ethan crossed his arms and stared down at her blankly.
A small knife of guilt stabbed her in the chest and she reached out and touched his arm reflexively. “Ethan, I’m sorry.”
What must it have been like growing up as an orphan? She tried to picture him as a child, all alone and in need, but picturing him as anything but a powerful fully-grown man was next to impossible.
“You’re not here to analyze me, princess.” Ethan yanked his arm from hers. “You’re here to train.” His brows dropped together and formed a crease down the center. “Get rid of the coffee perfume and meet me at the mat in ten.”
Ethan pulled his arm free from her touch and strode down the hall before she could say another word, leaving her to stare in shock at his broad back in shock.
The fact that she’d hit a nerve was obvious, as was his reflexive pig headedness.
Sheesh, she was so sick of men in general and now she was stuck in the middle of nowhere for two weeks of hands on training with one of the most frustrating males she’d encountered.
He wasn't made for her- not without a heavy overhaul anyway.
Kate grabbed the knob to her bedroom and slammed inside, coming to an abrupt halt at the chaos in front of her.
A mismatched patchwork quilt with no discernable patter covered a full sized bed whose head board wasn’t even attached to the frame, and instead leaned against the wall.
An assortment of different sized and types of stuffed animals filled out from a collection of pillows halfway down the bed.
Several tiny glass figurines littered the dresser, not one of them matching. An oval blue floral rug lay at the foot of the bed and a square red rug lay at its side.
It was bedlam.
Kate gripped her bag tighter, almost shaking with the need to rearrange everything into some semblance of pattern and order. Taking a deep breath, she marched to her bathroom door, preparing for more chaos. Instead, she found a simple claw foot tub with a shower and a pedestal white sink.
Carefully she placed her bag on the white tiled floor and kept her back turned to the bedroom. She went to her knees and began digging through her belongings, and luckily discovered a pair of dry training tights and a top at the bottom. Everything else would have to be washed.
Kate tugged her stained shirt and jacket off, toed off her pants and placed them in with the rest of her dirty clothes. She grabbed a washcloth from the shelf, extracted her bag of travel shampoo and body wash and began lining them up in order, labels out, in the small window above the tub.
Why the hell did she care about his past anyway? She didn’t. She didn’t care one bit, just like the she didn’t care that he would be sleeping less than ten feet away from her. Or that training with him would mean he’d have to touch her. A lot.
Kate turned the water on to hot and stepped under the steaming spray, goosebumps prickling across her sensitized skin on first contact. She tilted her head back and groaned out loud, frustrated at her body’s reaction to him.
Grabbing her shampoo, she washed her hair, scrubbing harder than normal and then let the conditioner soak in for the precise amount of time it took for her to wash her body. She was back out of the shower exactly seven and half minutes after she started.
The routine did little to sooth her frayed nerves.
She quickly dried her hair and changed into her work out clothes, and did a quick self-check in the antique oval mirror over the sink. The haphazard bedroom taunted her in the reflection.
She didn’t have time to fix it. Ethan had said training in ten. The chaos would take forever to organize into any semblance of symmetry.
Warily, she made her way to the door, trying to resist the urge to fix everything. Her gaze landed on the dolls. So many. So out of order.
Just like her life. She needed her job as an analyst because that’s what she did. She lived in patterns. She loved categorization. She’d structured her entire adult life into the perfect system.
Kate focused on the door.
She could start a new career. That’s why she was here.
Starting from scratch in a new field wouldn’t be impossible.
If she kept her cool and did a good job on this mission, maybe Col Grey would give her suitable recommendations in the private sector.
All she had to do was pretend like she didn’t feel anything when Ethan began her training…
With a cry, Kate flew to the bed and began rearranging the dolls.
After separating them into classes of animals, people and randoms, she ordered them from largest to smallest, arranging them into groups of five.
The randoms, which consisted of a stuffed star, sword and a tractor, she stuck under the bed.
Stepping back, she eyed her work, making sure each was in line with the next.
The dresser and figurines came next. Tiny clear and painted women in various styles of dresses throughout history, stood turned this way and that, no sense to them at all.
Hands shaking, Kate ordered them by style of dress, beginning with the oldest to the newest, left to right, checking to make sure they were spaced apart equally.
She needed control. Regulation. Symmetry.
“Hey, Kate, do you have those clothes for me to wash?” Noni knocked on the door and Kate jumped almost a foot.
“Just a minute!” She dashed for her bag, flicked off the lights and opened the door just enough for her to squeeze out, trying to look like she’d been doing anything other than rearranging Noni’s guestroom.
Noni gave her a once over and for some reason, Kate got the feeling she was being sized up. “He hasn’t got a prayer.”
“Ma’am?” Kate asked in confusion.
Noni shook her head. “Nothing to worry about, dear. I’m assuming from the smell, the bag has your dirty clothes?”
Kate wrinkled her nose. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I thought so. Hand if over. You’ve got some work to do.” Noni held out a wrinkled hand and Kate passed her the bag.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to wash these?” Kate hedged.
“I’ll handle the clothes. You go handle him.” Noni hooked a thumb over her shoulder, in the direction of the back of the house. “If his expression was any indication, he’s about to wipe the backyard with my grandson.”
Kate fought the blush heating up her cheeks, mumbled out a ‘yes, ma’am’ and fled down the hall. She didn’t relish the idea of facing Ethan again, but she would do it.
She was a CIA agent. She was trained and fit for duty. She could control herself for the duration of this mission.
If only she could control Ethan as easily, but she had a feeling he'd be the one flipping her upside down.
The pity in Kate’s gaze taunted him. She felt sorry for him because he’d grown up without a family. He should have never of even hinted at his past with her. He’d put that behind him years ago, transitioning into military life without looking back.
The years of conditioning had taught him to block out the pain from his past and move on beyond his childhood fears, so much so that didn’t even want to put down roots anywhere anymore.
Forming an attachment to a place or a person didn’t interest him in the least. Besides, relationships were a mirage.
Smoke and mirrors as the military called it.
None of them were real. People bolted at the first sign of trouble; that was human nature. He was better off relying on himself.
And his Team.
Other people, including green eyed enchantresses, didn’t fit into that equation.
“You gonna stand there all day or are we going to do this?” Aaron cocked his head to the side and arched a brow.
“Just giving you time to chicken out.” Ethan ducked down and to the right, driving forward in a surge of power to ram Aaron in the gut and throw his teammate to the mat laid out in the backyard.
Aaron grunted, tucked his knees to his chest and shoved Ethan off.
Both men got to their feet and crouched in a fighting stance, Ethan facing the back and Aaron facing the house.
“Nice try.” Aaron's grin looked more like a grimace.
“That was more than trying. Why don't you go ahead and give in now? We both know who's gonna win this round.” Ethan lunged in a fake right and Aaron countered.
“I'm so going to enjoy watching you lose it around her.” Aaron gave a quick jab with his right, barely missing Ethan's jaw.
“I don't know what you're talking about. I'm her trainer. That's it.” Ethan surged forward, wrapped his hands around Aaron's shoulders and yanked him down as Ethan raised a knee.
Aaron twisted out of his grip a second before Ethan's knee connected with his face. “That's why you were practically drooling on the front porch. Admit it, you really like her.”
“You’re nuts. She’s practically a man. I have absolutely no interest in her.” Ethan circled right and left, always moving, even as Aaron's words brought on the memory of Kate’s lips. Fuck, forget her lips and focus.