Still The One. Michelle Major
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that she was never meant to be a mother. A punishment for reaching for something she couldn’t have. The blame sat squarely on her shoulders. She suddenly needed Ethan to understand that. “I was the one—”
“Don’t go there.” His hand chopped through the air. “I didn’t come here to rehash ancient history.”
“So why are you here?”
The ten-million-dollar question, Ethan thought. He’d been surprised to run into her, but what shocked him more was how quickly his initial anger had disappeared. Because Lainey looked as miserable as he’d felt for so long, and despite how she’d hurt him, he didn’t think she deserved that.
He forced himself to remember how she’d run off when he’d put himself on the line for her. He’d had way too much experience with being deserted by the women he loved and had learned the hard way that he couldn’t rely on anyone else. He needed to keep his distance from her.
“I’m here for Vera.” Best to leave the past where it belonged. For everyone involved.
“Okay.” She gave him a tentative smile. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
He forced himself to look away, glancing out the window where night had fallen in earnest. The kitchen glowed in comparison, creating a strange yet familiar sense of closeness between them.
Ethan cleared his throat. “I care …” he began but lost his train of thought for a moment as he watched her chest rise when she sucked in a deep breath.
“About?” she prompted, her green eyes turning dark.
“I care … about your mom,” he finished, keeping emotion out of his voice. “We’ve worked together for a long time. She and your dad were more a family to me than my own crazy father. Vera has always supported me. We’re friends, and I hate to see her in the hospital. It’s not right.”
Lainey jerked her head in agreement but didn’t speak so he continued. “I’ll do whatever I can to help her. The clinic has a big stake in the adoption fair.”
He paused, wondering if his convoluted thoughts made more sense spoken out loud. “This will be easier if things aren’t messed up between us. The way I see it, stuff happened. We were kids. It doesn’t matter now.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she repeated, as if absorbing each word.
He nodded. “Water under the bridge.”
“Yesterday’s news,” she countered.
He thought about that one for a moment. The glint in her eye told him he was on shaky ground. “Or maybe not.”
She pushed herself away from the counter. “You should go now, Ethan.”
He took a step closer. “If you need me to …”
“I don’t,” she said, almost yelling as she backed into the kitchen sink. She closed her eyes for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was calm, her gaze emotionless. “I don’t need anything from you.”
Her words poured over his head like a bucket of cold water. He turned away. “I guess some things never change,” he called over his shoulder, “because the way I remember it, you never did.”
He slammed the door behind him and stalked down the stairs, pausing at the bottom when he heard something clatter against the kitchen wall.
He wanted to charge back up the steps but knew whatever had smashed into the wall had clearly been meant for his head.
She didn’t need him, he repeated. How long would it take before he’d finally be clear on that? Ten years ago, he’d offered her everything he had: his heart, his name, the rest of his life. She’d thrown it all back in his face, walked away without even a goodbye.
He headed across the driveway to his truck. Vera told him the universe makes you repeat your mistakes until you get them right. If that was the case, this summer was bound to be the biggest lesson of his life.
Chapter Three
Lainey rapped her fist against the door a second time. “Come on. I know you’re in there.” She glanced at the Land Cruiser, running her fingers through her tangled mess of hair. Her mother had told her Ethan was staying at the clinic, and she didn’t know where else to go.
She turned back when the door opened. Ethan stood in the doorway, the house dark behind him. He wore a pair of faded cargo shorts and nothing else. She blinked, momentarily distracted by his bare chest and the muscles corded along his stomach, disappearing beneath the waistband of his shorts.
If there’d been any doubt, she now knew for certain the boy she remembered was long gone. From the shadow of stubble that covered his jaw to the powerful arms, Ethan’s body was one hundred percent man.
He squinted against the morning light peeking through the surrounding trees. “Lainey?” His voice was rough with sleep.
“I need you,” she began then realized how stupid she sounded after last night.
A look of disbelief flashed in his eyes before his gaze darkened. “That was quick.” He leaned against the doorjamb. “I get it because you’re only human and all. But there is no way—”
“Not like that. It’s Pita.”
He straightened. “What happened?” he asked, all business.
“She didn’t eat last night or this morning—” Lainey worked to keep the panic out of her voice. “She threw up then had an accident in the middle of the night. There was blood in it … more this morning.” Tears clogged her throat. “She’s bleeding, Ethan.”
He wrapped his big hands around hers, using his thumbs to pry apart her clenched fists and rub her palms. “It’s okay,” he said, his gaze never leaving her face. “I’ll take a look at her.”
“I don’t know anything about her, her history or age. I don’t even know if she’s been fixed.” Her voice trembled and he squeezed her hands harder. “She isn’t really mine …”
She knew she was overreacting but couldn’t stop it. She’d compartmentalized her own pain, avoided any connections that might lead to more hurt all the while telling herself she was okay. The past was in the past. But she wasn’t healed emotionally and her irrational fear over the dog made her wonder if she ever would be. “What if she’s pregnant and …” Her voice trailed off. “There’s a lot of blood.”
He drew her into a tight hug. “We’ll take care of her.”
Lainey wanted to pull away but pressed her cheek into the crook of his neck. His skin was warm, and the hair on his chest tickled her face. He smelled like sleep, soap and the spicy male scent that was intrinsically him—a scent that hadn’t changed in ten years.
He kept his hands on her, running his palms along her bare arms, looking deep into her eyes. “Are you okay?”
Lainey wiped the back of her hand across her nose and nodded. “I’m fine,” she said around a hiccup.
“Uh-huh.” He cocked his head to one side and studied her.
“Really, I am.” She didn’t want this. Hated feeling so exposed, like he could see into the depths of her soul.
He looked unconvinced. “Let’s get to it then.”
It wasn’t even 7:00 a.m., but Lainey guessed the temperature had already climbed past eighty degrees. Still her skin felt impossibly cold when he let her go. He disappeared into the house for a moment then stepped back onto the porch in a wrinkled polo shirt.
She led him around the SUV. The hatch was already open. The dog lay on a makeshift bed of blankets Lainey had piled into the cargo area.
“Hey there,” Ethan cooed. Pita lifted her head in response.