Chapter 24
Ethan glanced surreptitiously over at Julia as they hastily dressed, putting their damp clothes back on piece by piece, both fully aware that Maggie was just on the other side of the door, waiting for them to be done with…whatever it was they were doing.
Would it be obvious? Was it already obvious?
Taking Julia in again, as quickly as he could with the five-second looks he allowed himself, he noticed her mussed-up hair, the frizz at the top settling like the down on a baby duck.
The raw, red scraping along her jaw and neck from his now-overgrown beard.
The flush in her cheeks that had yet to settle, a redness that always stayed on her pale skin long after the time for it had passed.
Yeah, it was obvious.
He let out an inaudible sigh, dragging his jeans on, trying not to think too much about what had just transpired.
He had so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to ask—What now?
What now?—but it was all going to have to wait for whatever disaster had befallen the outside world while they were in their little shelter, their own reality, for that brief moment in time.
He knew one thing, though—that whatever had occurred in here, however much they wanted to keep it to themselves, there was no way it was going to stay hidden permanently.
There was no way they could move past this moment, for better or for worse.
Whether it meant another decade or more without speaking or…
something else, he didn’t know. He couldn’t even wrap his head around what it was he wanted from it exactly.
All he knew was that he’d been ruined. Absolutely fucking ruined.
For any other woman out there—the taste of them, the smell of them, the look and feel of them. He would have to go celibate or he’d have to somehow find a way to have her, because after this?
There was no going back for him.
“Ready?” Julia asked, running a hand self-consciously over her hair, twisting it back into a ponytail before letting it fall since she didn’t have anything to keep it up.
He stared at her now, openly, unashamedly taking her in, in all her rumpled, disheveled glory.
The mussed-up honey-blonde hair, messy from his hands and the rain, the redness on her cheeks and face, the wrinkled damp clothes, stiff in some areas and too soft, too wet, in others.
Small and familiar, her very face a comfort, she was imprinted on his thoughts and memories forever, for as long as he could remember and beyond.
The weight of the moment hit him full force in the chest, and he felt a telltale sting in his eyes, at the end of his nose, but the shame and self-admonishment hit harder, and he was able to swallow it back.
She was looking at him expectantly, her own expression guarded, with none of the softness, the pliant willingness, she had shown just minutes before. Now they were entering the real world again. Now she needed her walls back up. Now she needed to protect herself.
From him.
It hurt, but it was to be expected. Whatever had happened between them, whatever she had allowed, it had been just that—a concession. Acceptance and permission, but with conditions.
He realized she was waiting for him to answer, so he nodded once, briefly.
“Ready.”
* * *
Maggie had been right to get them. The news was grim.
Julia peered outside, moving the curtain slightly before closing it again.
“They’re still fucking here,” she grumbled, crossing her arms. “How is this even possible?”
Ethan sat with his head in his hands on the very edge of a chaise in the main salon area.
For Julia, he knew, this sort of intrusion was less than ideal, but at least it wasn’t harmful or damaging to her business.
If anything, it might even benefit her long-term.
Wasn’t this exactly why she had agreed to his proposition in the first place? But for him—
He had lost control of the narrative. Now he had three celebrities under one roof, with a bed-and-breakfast owner and her two employees and him—the self-destructive PR guru who had already had one public relations disaster blow up spectacularly in his face, while he was on the imminent cusp of having another one do the same.
To add insult to injury, the guilty party from the first incident was also there with them.
It was, in short, an unmitigated disaster.
Threesome for Super Couple? Emily Sattler Third Wheels Noah and Katy’s Romantic Rendezvous? Who’s with Who??
Potential headlines screamed in his face, making a mockery of all that he had planned to do with his last-ditch Hail Mary attempt to revive his name and his career.
Once the paps had been spotted, everyone in the house had hunkered down.
Emily had declared that it was her yoga time and gone to her room, presumably to work out.
Noah had said he was taking a nap. Katy stayed downstairs with the rest of them, while Norman set out to do his daily work, not allowing something as inconsequential as local paparazzi to alter the course of his day.
The photogs had snapped a few shots of him raking leaves and deadheading the flowers, but soon discovered that pictures of Norman and his chores weren’t exactly going to cut it.
A few braver ones tried to venture close to the house, even taking pictures through the windows, trying to catch a glimpse of someone noteworthy inside. Julia had, at Ethan’s request, gone around at that point and closed all the curtains, as well as locked all doors into and out of the house.
“We just need this to die down,” he said, “then we’ll sneak you two out.” The last part was directed at Katy, since Noah had already gone upstairs, and she just nodded, albeit a bit of a disappointed expression on her face.
“I’m just going to miss this place, is all,” she said when pressed, shrugging with a slight air of sadness to her. “I had gotten used to it in just a couple short days. There was more I wanted to explore.”
“You can always come back,” Julia said warmly. “You and Noah. We’d be happy to have you.”
Ethan’s thoughts soured slightly when he thought of Noah.
He had forgotten for a moment about the kiss that had occurred between him and Julia, but now the thought of him returning to Donwell Cottage at some unforeseen point in the future brought the image of him and Julia kissing back to his mind in full force.
Julia glanced at him at the mention—he could feel the heat of her gaze on his face—but he tried to keep his expression even-keeled and guarded, like hers. Unfazed.
Trying to take his mind off anything having to do specifically with Julia, Ethan picked up his phone again, scrolling through his Google Alerts and social media account to see if anything had been mentioned about the whereabouts of Katy and Noah.
He saw the usual speculation from those who had put them together, even in fanfic, writing stories about them as though they were characters in a movie instead of real-life people, but there was nothing about Donwell Cottage or the addition of Emily into the mix.
He refused to be relieved by it, instead vowing to stay vigilant and keep checking to see if anything had come up.
Looking at Julia again, he took in her nervous expression, the way she worried at her thumbnail and kept exchanging meaningful glances with Maggie.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked finally, unable to stop himself from wondering and needing to know the answer.
She glanced at him, surprised, perhaps, that he had even noticed her expression, her anxiety, then looked at Maggie one last time before sighing.
“I’m just worried that this whole situation is going to make things a joke—that it’ll affect our reputation as this quiet little escape, a safe haven, and instead become a celebrity stop on some stupid sightseeing tour.
Hordes of people will come through to gawk, but there will be no real substance to their attention, and they won’t stay, and they won’t appreciate any of the”—she twitched her reddening nose, and Ethan recognized it for what it was—“the details or the love that goes into any of it, and eventually the novelty will wear off and we’ll be…
” She sighed heavily again, meeting his gaze finally, her eyes bright with the threat of tears.
“We’ll be worse off than we were before you came. ”
Worse off. There was something about the way she said it. The implication that things had already been bad and now she was worried they weren’t going to get better.
“Is the business not doing well, Gem?” he asked softly, forgetting there were others around them, forgetting about anything except for the concern he had for her, for her well-being, her livelihood.
Now that he was here, had seen it firsthand, had fit himself back into her life—in more ways than one—now he was invested.
Whatever the future held for them, he wanted to make sure she would be okay.
Her jaw clenched, and she looked away. Maggie made a sound, and Ethan looked at her sharply, trying to gauge what she’d been about to say, but Julia cut her off before words could come out with a fierce look and a slight shake of her head, almost imperceptible unless someone who knew her was looking for it.
So she was hiding something. There was something about the state of Donwell Cottage that was cause for concern.
He thought back to what Maggie had said about the website and the moment when he’d realized she needed this, maybe as much as he did.
Just now realizing it might be even more serious than all that.
The fragments clicked together like the final piece of a puzzle.
It all made sense now—why she would so quickly agree to his offer, why she would be amenable to housing him, to helping him.