The young man—Paul, his name badge read—opened the door for me. “Have a lovely night,” he said with a cheesy, knowing grin.
“I’m going home to bed,” I responded without thinking.
His grin broadened until it filled his whole face. Ethan laughed. Annoyed with myself for such a stupid comment, I slidinto the car and pulled the door from his hands with an extra-hard yank.
Wind urged the pines to unnatural angles, and they looked like they might snap at any given moment.
“That’s quite a big storm coming. Are you going to be okay out there in the wild, Cinderella? You can stay at my apartment if the winds are a bit scary for you,” Ethan said as we pulled out of the driveway.
“I think I’ll be more than fine, thanks. It would take a lot more than a strong wind to get me to stay at your place.”
“Just out of curiosity, how much more are we talking—typhoon, twister maybe? I’m sure I could conjure one if need be.”
“There’s not been a storm big enough in the history of mankind,” I answered, mildly amused.
“Ouch, twice in one night! Cinderella, that’s not nice. Your attitude is matching your shoes tonight.”
“I forgot to go shopping for them. These are all I had, other than sneakers or boots,” I explained, hoping he would let the whole shoe thing go.
“You forgot to shop for shoes? What kind of woman are you?” he asked, perplexed.
One who’d never really felt like she’d fitted in. Not in my childhood, and not as an adult either. Sometimes it felt like I’d stepped out of line from the rest of humanity. I ran my fingers over the smooth band of my ring.
“What do you think will happen with the development?” I asked as a flash of light razored the darkness.
“I don’t know, but I, for one, will do all I can to stop it going ahead.”
“You never struck me as a nature conservation kind of guy.”
There was a long pause, and then he said quietly, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Amy.”
He drove with an easy confidence, one hand on the steering wheel and the other rested on the console. I studied him a moment longer—he was insanely gorgeous. Even his profile was perfection. He caught me staring, and I pulled my gaze away to look out the side window instead. The thunder let out an earth-shattering crack. Startled, I jumped.
He chuckled. “Need me to hold your hand?”
“No,” I snapped, clasping them firmly in my lap.
Before I knew it, we were pulling up beside my cabin.
“Wait here,” Ethan commanded as we pulled up, then he jumped out.
I couldn’t hold the dress down and close the door against the bellowing winds anyway, so I stayed sitting and waited. When I stepped out with Ethan’s help, the wind whipped my hair around my face. Ignoring it, I moved to hold the bottom of my dress down with both hands, then we ran toward the porch. We stopped under the cover, sheltered from the winds which blew in an easterly direction from behind the cabin. Was it impolite not to ask him in? I’d made it abundantly clear I wasn’t interested in him. Still, I didn’t want to risk him getting the wrong idea.
He reached across, brushing a strand of hair off my face.
I couldn’t stop the sudden burst of excitement that shot through my body, landing in a damp rush in my core. Again. If I kept this up, my vagina would need floaties, so it didn’t drown. My brain knew better but my body was yet to get the memo.
I forced a smile. “Thank you for the ride, Ethan.”
“It’s my pleasure, Amy.”
God he was so damn gorgeous. We both stood, unsure, awkward, looking at each other, neither of us really knowing what to say or do. In that moment, if he leaned over and pressed his lips against mine, I didn’t know how I would react—if I would kiss back or flee.
I felt a strong urge to kiss him, to pull his body against mine, then whip off his clothes and run my hands over what I knew would be a taut, glorious body.
“Well, Cinderella, I wish you a good night.” He kissed my cheek and went down the steps. I stared after him, confusion flooding my senses.
How could I be so fiercely attracted to one man, and then struggle to resist the allure of another? How could I be so pathetic? So desperate for affection?
