Chapter 5 #2
I looked at the mess in his drawer and instead of groaning like I know Brax would have done, I just felt giddy.
As the day wound down, I finished up what I was doing and turned off Brax’s computer. When I looked up, Ethan was in the doorway. “You have a minute?”
He had this look on his face that made me feel anxious.
I rose from the desk and he reached out and took my hand. Leading me out the back door and around to the back of Outlaws, we came to this charming ten paned windowed door. He went up the stairs and pushed it open.
There was a small gallery kitchen and I could smell the newness of the paint. The floor was dark, the cabinets were painted a dark blue and there was a white fridge, the window panes of the small window above the farmhouse sink painted in the same fresh white. He drew me in.
There was the cutest moon motif valance over the window with touches of the blue and white here and there.
The kitchen opened up into a big room, and I took in the wonderful cottage feel of the place.
The space was open and airy, intimate at the same time, with nooks and alcoves that offered both a curl-up daydreaming window bench and space-saving built-in storage.
There was nothing that I loved more than practical organization to minimize clutter.
From the turquoise weathered paint to the planked feature wall and ceiling with white beams giving it a crisscross pattern, I immediately fell in love with the place.
The screen that shielded the white cast iron bed with whimsical pillows and teal dresser, to the bayou pictures on the walls were so charming.
The cozy furniture and antique coffee table made me smile.
He then led me to the bathroom, the wainscoting on the walls, the old-fashioned tub and next to it a modern walk-in shower, the glass block window, and the cute pedestal sink.
“What is all this?” I asked. “Why are you showing me this?”
“This is the room Brax mentioned.”
I stood there for a moment taking in what he’d said.
I hadn’t ever lived in such a simple, warm, sunny place.
Opulence was what I was used to, but this was grander than a castle and lovingly restored.
I knew immediately that every touch in here was because of Ethan.
I wanted to run, and I wanted to stay. I was so torn.
I was wrecked by their generosity. Tears welled without me being able to stop them. I looked up at him dizzy, warmth flooding me. The kind I hadn’t felt since my father was alive. Biting my lip against the increasing fullness in my throat, I murmured, “Oh, Ethan, what have you done?”
“It was a group effort.”
I shook my head and turned toward him. “Maybe, but you were behind it all.” My vision blurred, tears slipped down my cheeks, touched beyond measure.
“I want you to feel safe, Lawson. This is shelter for you. Stay.”
My heart suddenly hammering, I gazed back at him, the clamor in my chest making it hard for me to think.
He guessed. Maybe more than I wanted him to.
Unsettled by that thought, I dragged my gaze away from his, needing to be absolutely honest with him.
“I feel grounded here, safe,” I said huskily.
“I don’t know what to say or how to react.
This is so, so kind. But I can’t make any promises. ”
My stomach reacting, my expression frozen as I stared at him. Of all the things I might have expected from him, this was not one of them. Realizing he was watching me with a steady, unreadable look, I gave myself a mental shake.
“Then stay awhile,” he said gruffly.
I covered my eyes, unable to absorb how much I wanted to stay forever. Unable to see through a fresh blur of tears, I took a shuddering breath.
His tone rough with concern, he said, “Don’t cry, sugar.”
I stared up at him with so much regret, wishing that things could be different, but they weren’t.
What I was going to regret, I realized with a sudden wrench, was that my time here was going to be calculated in weeks, or, if I was lucky months.
And when I left, I would regret leaving this man behind.
“Ah, babe,” he whispered roughly, an agony of feeling in his softly spoken words.
He wrapped his arms around me, and I sagged against him. He was so warm, so strong, I huddled in his arms, pressing my face against his jaw. My breath catching on a sob, I wound my arms around his neck, despair slicing through me.
It was comfort, pure and simple. It was beautiful, this feeling that I hadn’t known for so long.
As he held me, things changed. A strange sense of desire and anticipation crept along my nerves.
If I leaned forward, he would kiss me. I could see the promise in his eyes and felt something wild, reckless and completely foreign to me raise up in answer, pushing me to close the distance, to take the chance.
His eyes urged me, his mouth lured—masculine, sexy, lips slightly parted in invitation.
What fear I felt was of myself, of this attraction I couldn’t want.
I stepped back, but couldn’t seem to let what I couldn’t do stop me anymore. My hand lifted and I smoothed it along his jaw. He closed his eyes at my tender touch.
He took a step, and I stopped moving…stopped breathing.
My gaze locked on his face. My body was very aware of his nearness, responding to it in ways that were instinctive and fundamentally feminine—warming, melting.
I was backed up against the wall, caught between an immovable object and an irresistible force.
He lifted a hand to stroke my hair, lowering his mouth toward mine inch by inch.
I should have moved. I should have stopped him. I didn’t know much about this man, and what I did know was all so good. He was—a warrior, protector, white knight. He was a man who could deliver on every one of those.
I shivered at the first touch of his lips, blinking as if the contact had given me a shock.
He held my gaze, his eyes dark and intense, mesmerizing.
Then he settled his mouth over mine, and thought ceased.
My eyes drifted shut. My hands wound into the fabric of his shirt.
He pulled me close, slanting his mouth across mine, taking possession of it.
He savored me, his mouth moving over mine like it was nectar. I opened my eyes when he stepped away. I felt dizzy, weak. Scared.
“I’ll get your stuff, and you can have yourself a shower, a pampered night, clean linens and a bed to rest in.
And that was that.
Before I knew it, all my stuff was inside and he was at the door. He reached out and snagged my wrist. Dropping a key into the palm of my hand, he said softly, “Sweet dreams, Lawson.” Then he was gone.
I closed my hand over the key, watching those broad shoulders disappear.
Oh yes, there was fear. Ethan Fairchild scared me…
but not in that big, muscle-man way. I knew how hands like his could hurt.
No. It was his gentleness, his attention and those protective-warrior lights in his eyes that made me want to run for the hills.
I was a damsel in distress, but no one…not even a gorgeous knight like him… could save me.