Summer
Ethan walks up to us, and I sway a little on my feet.
Man, he’s so hot.
I smile at him, maybe too wide, and he just shakes his head, that half-grin playing on his lips.
Cas squints at him, suspicion written all over his face.
“Suuuure,” he drawls, voice dripping with mockery. “You left something at Mom’s.” He turns to us, smirking. “Night, ladies. I’m taking this ray of sunshine home.”
Penny hiccups, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I love my man,” she sighs dreamily, and I laugh, warmth filling my chest at how easy it feels to be part of this family.
Ethan’s hand finds the small of my back as he guides me toward his truck. The air outside is cool, smelling faintly of hay and the lingering sweetness of spilled beer from the bar. My boots scrape against the gravel.
“Easy there,” he murmurs, steadying me when I stumble.
He opens the door and helps me in, his hand firm around mine. “You okay?” he asks, buckling me in like I’m something fragile. His scent hits me, sandalwood, spice, a faint trace of cologne, and I sigh, drunk on more than just the alcohol.
“You smell so good,” I mumble.
He smirks, that slow, confident tilt of his lips that makes my stomach flutter.
We drop Cassie off first. Ethan insists on walking her to the door, saying he doesn’t want her out alone in the dark, even though her porch light is on and she lives next door. That’s just him. Steady. Thoughtful. The kind of man who makes you forget what it felt like to be unsafe.
By the time we pull up to the Hawthorne ranch, the night air feels softer, the crickets louder. Ethan’s headlights wash over the porch rails and the hanging ferns swaying in the faint breeze.
He’s already at my door before I can reach for the handle. “I got you,” he says, his voice low, warm, like a promise. I step out, and the ground seems to tilt beneath me. His arms are around me in an instant, solid and sure.
Grace yawns as she walks past us, her boots thudding against the wood steps. “Night,” she calls, disappearing inside.
Now it’s just me and Ethan on the porch, under the soft glow of the porch light. His arms are still around me, holding me upright, and suddenly everything feels too close, the sound of his heartbeat, the clean scent of his shirt, the way his eyes catch mine like gravity.
“They’re forest green,” I whisper, squinting up at him, “but… you have some golden specks in there too.” I hiccup and laugh at myself.
“What?” he asks, smiling.
“Your eyes,” I say softly. “I like your eyes.”
His lips curve, that half-smile deepening. “I like your eyes too.” His voice drops an octave, rougher now, and his body feels so warm against mine that I almost forget to breathe.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I should pull away. I should remember all the reasons why this is a bad idea. But those reasons dissolve every time he looks at me like that, like I’m something worth staying for.
“Let me help you up,” he says gently, guiding me inside.
The house is dim, the air filled with the faint scent of cinnamon and home. I peek into Mia’s room as we pass, she’s curled up in a fortress of teddy bears, her hair spread across the pillow. My heart squeezes.
“I have the cutest kid in the world,” I whisper.
“You absolutely do,” Ethan says softly, and it makes something ache inside me that someone like him could say it and mean it.
He takes my hand again, steadying me up the stairs. In my room, I drop onto the bed with a graceless thud, the world tilting around me. Ethan sets a bottle of water and some aspirin on the nightstand like it’s second nature, then crouches to help me with my boots.
“Uh…” he hesitates, glancing at my dress. “Can you manage to change in the bathroom?”
I shake my head, too tired to move.
“Okay,” he sighs, the word half a laugh. “I guess you can sleep in that dress.”
He’s about to step back, but the scratch of his stubble catches the light and I can’t help myself. I reach out, brushing my fingers over his jaw, then over his lips. His skin is warm beneath my fingertips, and the roughness sends a shiver through me.
“Summer…” His voice is rough now, darker, raw.
“You scare me, Ethan,” I whisper. “Why do you scare me so much?”
He smiles softly, eyes searching mine. “I don’t know, Summer. But I’m working on it.”
His face is close, too close, and I can’t stop staring at his mouth. The urge to kiss him feels alive, humming beneath my skin. I lean in, breath mingling with his…
But he moves first, stepping back. “Fuck,” he mutters, raking a hand through his hair.
Shame hits me like a cold wave. What am I doing? This man, this incredible, grounded man, would never want to kiss me, not really.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, pulling back beneath the covers, yanking the blanket to my chin like armor.
Ethan’s eyes follow my movements, softening. Then he kneels beside my bed, face inches from mine.
“Summer,” he says quietly, fierce now. “I don’t know if you’ll remember this tomorrow, but I didn’t pull back because I didn’t want to kiss you.
I’ve been dreaming about tasting those lips ever since you walked into Midnight Rodeo, looking like a dream.
But I want you to be one hundred percent sober when I kiss you for the first time, so you’ll never forget it.
Even when we’re old, watching our grandkids play while we sit on the porch. ”
His hand cups my cheek, thumb brushing along my lips like he’s memorizing them. “Do you understand?”
I nod, eyelids heavy, heart thundering. “Grandkids?” I murmur, sleep tugging me under.
“Yeah, babe,” he whispers, voice a ghost against the quiet. “I want it all with you.”
I close my eyes, letting the warmth of him anchor me.