After he put a rose on my breakfast plate and I took it as a sign we were a couple.
“And try he did,” Angela grinned, looking at something behind me.
Turning slowly, I took in his form. Wearing a baseball hat, no shirt, and the lowest swim shorts I’d ever seen, Ethan King was walking towards me.
Kill me now.
In his hands were a small cooler and a bunch of roses from his fucking garden. The same roses I’d freaked out about. Walking beside him, Cody wearing a big smile.
“Hola, chicas!” Cody called out and ran towards the edge of the pool before diving in, splashing us both.
Angela burst into a peal of laughter and swam after Cody. No shame in her game, she was going for it. I on the other hand was resisting the urge to look down and see if my boobs looked okay, or if my stomach was rolled over since I was sitting.
Ethan walked to the edge of the pool and extended the handful of wild roses to Angela. “A gift for the lovely hostess.”
She smiled, taking the flowers. “Ethan, you’re sweeter than honey,” she gushed and then looked over at me to give me a wink.
Yeah. He was. And I’d totally misinterpreted his sweetness for something it wasn’t. He was that nice guy who treated every girl like a queen. They were so rare that I didn’t even know how to recognize them anymore. I wasn’t any more special to him than Angela was. That calmed me and made me yearn for him at the same time. Something inside of me was definitely broken. I was hot and cold. Wanting to jump on him and push him away at the same time.
“I thought we could grill.” Ethan held up the cooler, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I stood up from the pool step and wrapped a towel around my waist. “Perfect, I’ll help.”
He set the cooler on the picnic table and went to tend the barbeque. The pool was pretty dead but for an older woman reading a steamy romance novel, now peeking over her book at Ethan.
I didn’t blame her.
I opened the cooler to pull out the burgers and saw Ethan’s insulin pen wrapped in a baggie. It must be stressful living with a chronic condition. He couldn’t even go to a pool party without bringing his medication on ice…
Looking up, I watched him squat down and light the fire and found myself thinking about that rose on my plate this morning, about the bushel he’d given Angela. It was a simple and sweet gesture, one that didn’t cost him money, and it had affected me. Then my mind went to the Louis Vuitton purse in my bike basket and I turned to look over my shoulder. When would Bryce go home? Why the fuck was he even here?
Grabbing the burger meat, I walked over to the grill and handed it to Ethan.
“You know I make a mean burger with bits of onion, carrot, and cheese mixed in,” I told him.
He scrunched his face up. “Carrot?”
I laughed and bumped his hip with mine, moving him out of the way. “It’s good!” I laid out the burgers evenly on the grill as he watched me.
“I’ve never let a woman take over my grill before.” His voice was husky next to me, and I froze.
“Shit. I’m sorry.” I turned to face him and there was a fire in his eyes, a passion that sent a pool of warmth right between my legs.
“I’m used to doing all the cooking.” I rubbed my hands together nervously. Did Ethan even know I’d been married before? I’m sure he’d heard the rumors. Bryce wouldn’t lift a finger even to save his life. I cooked. I cleaned. I did it all. I was a fucking eighteen-year-old housewife; my wild twenties were taken from me.
Ethan took one step closer to me and I wasn’t sure if it was him or the heat of the grill but I thought I might burn up in that moment.
“Why don’t you go relax and let me serve you?” he whispered.
Let me serve you.
Something about that sentence unraveled a part of me. Ethan King was a good guy wearing a bad boy mask and I wanted that in the worst way.
“Okay…” I was lost for words. I was a helper, a doer, I didn’t sit around while gorgeous half-naked men cooked for me andservedme.
I was buying a vibrator. Tomorrow. It was the only thing that would keep me from sneaking into Ethan’s room and taking what I wanted.
Deciding I needed to cool off, I threw my towel on the chair and jumped into the pool, fully submerging. What was happening to me? I hadn’t felt this way about a man in … forever. Bryce was my first and only ”love” and it had become very apparent to me early on in our marriage that wasn’t real love. I’d lost my virginity to him and he was the only man I’d been with since. Sex in the beginning was fun, as fun as sex can be with a sixteen-year-old boy, fast and hard and over too quickly. As our marriage soured, our sex became rough when he was mad, and always obligational. In the end, I started to sleep in the guest room, and stayed there for the past six months. I closed down emotionally to him, and thought that the passionate, sexy part of me was dead … until now.
