A Broken Man (6 page)

“It’s your house.”

“No.” His jaw set in a hard line. “Not if you stay. You stay, and my house ends at the door.”

She had to admit he was taking this seriously. “You may enter.” She did a little curtsy.

He handed her a remote control. She looked down at it like he’d just handed her magic beans.

“What’s this for?”

“The fireplace. Natural gas. Not like the wood-burning one in the main room. You don’t even have to get out of bed.”

She pushed a button and the fire disappeared. She pushed another and the lights dimmed. Hastily, she pushed again, trying to get the lights back on. Instead, she cued up the stereo. Ella Fitzgerald. Color rushed to her face. Ethan quickly hit the wall switch and backed out the door.

“Jared’s room is right next door.” His eyes were fixed on his lap again.

She hurried after him, eager to get away from the romance room.

“Holy shit.” This was Jared’s?

It was the same size as her own—meaning huge—and was done up in cool, neutral tones. A massive work desk filled one wall, outfitted with a shiny, new laptop and tons of books. A basketball hoop hung over the closet door. That wouldn’t get much use from Jared, but still, he would lose his mind over this place.

“I don’t know what to say.” Sarah ran a hand along the wall, as if to convince herself it was real.

“Don’t say anything yet. I haven’t shown you the best part.” Ethan was clearly getting excited now. He was talking faster, and a mischievous look shone in his eyes.

What else could there be? He led her further down the hallway to a wide set of stairs leading down to the basement.

“Go on. I’ll meet you there.”

Before she could ask how, he’d disappeared. She skipped down the steps. The basement was one big, open space that ran the entire length of the house. She didn’t know what had been in it before, but it had been converted into a private physical therapy studio. Top-of-the-line equipment filled the space, some of it custom stuff she’d never even seen before.

A mechanical noise pulled her attention to the far wall. Ethan was being lowered into the basement by a lift on a metal track. How had he had time to install a wheelchair lift? He’d practically rebuilt the whole house in three days. “How did you do all this?”

“Two crews working round-the-clock shifts. I stayed at Tony’s place so they could get everything done.”

“What is all this?”

“Well, it used to be my home gym. Now it’s my physical therapy studio. What do you think?

“Did you rob a PT equipment showroom?”

“More like they robbed me. I didn’t know what the hell I was supposed to get, so I had them send over one of everything.”

She was stunned into silence.

“Look, I’ve had an attitude adjustment, and it’s all because of you. You wouldn’t put up with my bullshit, and I needed that. My doc says she’s pleased with the amount of sensation I’ve recovered in my lower body. She seemed more optimistic about the chances of me walking again. Even thinks she can get me into some clinical trial in the UK. Complete one-eighty from the initial prognosis. Goes to show how much they know. I am going to work my ass off. If I don’t walk again, it won’t be for lack of trying.”

Sarah nodded slowly, trying to reconcile this person in front of her with the man so certain that physical therapy was “pointless” not so long ago.

“Besides, you’re going to need equipment for the clinic. This should be enough to get you started.”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to say no to this.”

“You aren’t.”

She snapped her fingers. “I have to see what they did to my work on your bathroom.” She turned and plodded back up the stairs before Ethan could stop her. She could hear Ethan cursing the slow-ass chair lift as she went. She was halfway across the house by the time he got to the upstairs landing.

“Sarah, wait, it’s not done yet. Please don’t open—“

Too late. Sarah stood stock still in the open doorway. Ethan rolled up behind her.

“This is Dame. My service dog.”

“I’ve never seen a three-legged service dog before.”

“She might be the first one.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well, I, uh…” Ethan seemed to be searching for the right words. When he found them, they came out in one long rush. “I was just trying to make sure you could still work and I said I’d get a service dog, but there’s a six-month wait and I needed a dog now, so I went to the shelter and there she was.”

“That still doesn’t explain how she got here.”

“She’s smart.” He rolled into the room and reached down to pet her. She laid her paw on top of his foot. “She was the smartest dog they had, but nobody wanted her because she got hurt in a car accident.” His voice cracked on the words.

Sarah was starting to understand. This was about a whole lot more than a service animal. She turned to face Dame to give Ethan a moment to collect himself.

“So, you have a dog. Jared’s always wanted one.”

“Here’s his chance.”

Tension knitted Sarah’s shoulders together, and she sucked in a deep breath.

“I’m sorry for putting you in this situation, but there isn’t anyone else.” His voice was low, pleading. “I can’t go to a home. I need you.”

As he said the words, she thought about what utter bullshit they were. For the amount of money he was going to spend on this by the time all was said and done—hell, just for the amount of money he’d spent already—he could have hired a full-time staff. Had he honestly not considered that? He must have, and yet he was still willing to spend it, still willing to do all this work. For her. What did that mean? Why was he so fixated on her? She couldn’t seem to shake the nagging uneasiness that had settled in her gut. But then she thought of Jared. She knew in her bones that this was probably a colossal fucking mistake, but if there was even a chance of giving Jared something better, didn’t she have to take it?

“I must be crazy,” she said to the ceiling. “Yes.”

She could almost see the relief sweeping over Ethan. He looked like a condemned man who’d been pardoned just as the needle was about to go in his arm. “Thank you.”

“So, when do I move in?”

“Well, Tony can stay until the end of the week. Then he’s leaving for a shark dive in South Africa.”

Chapter Nine

Ethan had lived alone for most of his life, and adjusting to housemates was proving harder than he’d expected. The first few days of the new arrangement had gotten off to something of a rocky start. He was decidedly bad at letting other people help him. To make matters worse, less than twenty-four hours in, Jared knocked over a handmade glass bowl Ethan had brought back from Thailand, shattering it into a thousand pieces on the new hardwood floors. Ethan reddened, but bit back the anger that flared in his chest. Sarah, on the other hand, flipped out at Jared and basically confined him to his room where he couldn’t break anything else.

On top of that, Ethan had never had a dog before. He kept forgetting to let Dame out to use the bathroom. Not only did Sarah get stuck cleaning up the mess after she got home from work, but Dame actually seemed mortified about having accidents in the house. She hid behind the sofa and barely touched her food. Who knew a dog could get embarrassed? Needless to say, no one was in much of a good mood.

The daily physical therapy sessions hadn’t been going much better. Ethan was impatient with his progress, and Sarah exhausted her energy arguing with him. A part of him wondered if it wasn’t some sort of defense mechanism on her part, and maybe his too. Were they only arguing to fight the growing attraction between them?

Ethan had been sleeping less and less and thinking about Sarah more and more. He was torturing himself, fantasizing about her and imagining the three of them living together like some kind of family. Why would she ever want someone like him? He was nothing but a cripple. He shook his head in disgust.

He closed his eyes and willed the thoughts away, but they crept back in one by one. Any hope of sleep that night was dwindling by the minute. Late, well after midnight, he decided to stop fighting it and just get out of bed. By now, he’d become an expert at sliding himself out of bed and into his wheelchair unassisted. The house was chilly, but he couldn’t find his favorite sweatshirt. Must’ve been in the laundry. Ethan glided through the house to fetch it, careful not to wake everyone up. Inside the laundry room, he flipped on the light and was shocked by what he saw.

Sarah had washed her clothes. Specifically, Sarah had washed her underthings and hung them up to dry. Bras and panties dangled from the clothing rods on both sides of the room. The lingerie was simple and understated, just like her. Everything in solid colors and sensible fabrics. He reached out to touch a white, cotton bra and imagined it cupping her small, perky breasts.

“Stop it, you perv,” he whispered to himself.

He backed up and was just about to turn and leave when he noticed a pop of red out of the corner of his eye. He moved closer for a better look. There, tucked up against the wall at the end of the bar was a red, lacy G-string. He’d never have guessed she would own something like that, and somehow the fact that it was so unexpected made it even hotter. God, what she must look like in those and nothing else. Without thinking, he snatched the panties and stuffed them into the pocket of his sweatpants.

He turned and quickly made for the kitchen. He needed a glass of water, or something stronger. He flipped on the under-cabinet lights.

“Shit! You scared me!” Sarah spilled the glass of chocolate milk she was pouring and grabbed a nearby dishtowel to mop it up.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone else was up.” Ethan gasped when he finally looked up from the mess and saw Sarah. She wore next to nothing. All she had on was probably the shortest pair of shorts he’d ever seen and a spaghetti-strapped tank top. Her nipples stood at attention under the flimsy fabric, and he was suddenly thankful it was so cold in the house.

“Chocolate milk? What are you, twelve?”

“Some things you never outgrow.”

He noticed that she was staring at his chest. In his haste to get out of the laundry room and away from Sarah’s lingerie, he’d forgotten to look for the sweatshirt. She ran her tongue over her lower lip and sucked in a breath before averting her eyes. Maybe he’d been too quick to dismiss the possibility that she might want him too.

“I couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d watch a little television. Would you like to join me?”

She considered it for a moment, but looked down and seemed to remember how little she was wearing. She crossed her arms over her chest. “I, uh, shouldn’t.”

He tried to mask the disappointment in his voice. “Some other time, then.”

A smile.

Did that mean yes?

She turned to walk back toward her room. The bottom of her ass peeked out from under the hem of her shorts with every step. Ethan had to bite his cheek to keep from calling out to her, begging her to come back. His eyes never left her backside, and by the time she turned the corner and was out of sight, he’d convinced himself that she was doing a little strut for his benefit. He parked himself on the sofa in front of the TV and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

The next morning Sarah woke Ethan on the couch and set a big mug of coffee down in front of him.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s after ten. I already dropped Jared off at school.”

“You don’t have to work today?”

“Nope, I’m off. I thought we’d get in an extra therapy session. You game?”

“Absolutely.” He pushed himself up. “As soon as I drink this coffee.”

“OK, I’m going to go set up.”

Sarah was raring to go downstairs. After some light stretching, she saddled him into one of the most expensive pieces of physical therapy equipment he’d bought.

“I’ve never gotten to try one of these things before.” She was practically giddy.

The machine was basically a swing constructed out of industrial-strength straps. It hung from the ceiling, looking vaguely like some kind of medieval torture device. Ethan sat in the swing, and two handles dropped down from a pulley mounted above. Using the handles, he was able to lift his entire body weight. The lack of stability provided by the straps forced all of his other muscles to work harder, and on his third rep, there was a spontaneous movement in his left leg.

“Did you see that?”

A broad grin spread across Sarah’s face. “I sure did. Now give me five more.” She’d seen that and a whole lot more. With each rep, Ethan’s muscles tensed and flexed as he pumped himself up and down. An image of him in the swing, buck naked, with her on top flashed in her mind. She coughed and looked away. She was incredibly grateful when he finished his set. She needed to get him away from that machine and cool off.

“Good work. We’ll finish up with some water therapy.” She helped him back into his chair and rolled him over to the humongous Jacuzzi he’d had installed. He flicked off his shirt and stripped down to his shorts, and she closed her eyes to keep from staring. Almost immediately, she realized the error in her plan. Getting into a hot tub together was not going to cool anything, but it was too late to back out. She helped him into the tub and then slid in behind, chastising herself for being so stupid.

Focus. Be professional.

Ethan pushed himself to a standing position and began to maneuver his body in the water, reminding the muscles in his legs how it feels to take steps, even if he could not yet command them to do so. Sarah stood near him, one hand on his bicep and the other bracing his back for stability. Once he’d done three laps, she had him sit in the water and began to massage his calf and thigh muscles. Their bodies were only inches apart in the warm water, and she could feel his breath on her shoulder. She stared down at his legs intently, afraid of what she might do if they made eye contact. In her peripheral vision, she could tell that he was looking anywhere but at her. She was determined to get through the routine if it killed her.

In a moment of weakness, she glanced up at his lap and noticed a distinct bulge. Was that…? “Are you turned on right now?” she asked, a note of excitement in her voice.