Serendipity (7 page)

“In a hurry?” he asked.

She swallowed hard. “No. I just thought you were waiting for someone.”

“I was. I was waiting for you.”

Okay, then.
She blinked, but dizziness still assaulted her except now she wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or Ethan's unique masculine scent that had her swooning.

“Hi,” she said again, grinning this time.

He shook his head and laughed.

The sound rocked her world. His smile tilted it even more.

He reached out and lifted her chin with his hand, looking into her eyes. “You're drunk.”

She shook her head in denial. Big mistake. She wobbled and he reached out to steady her. His hand on her bare arm branded her skin, causing her temperature to soar and her heart to pound harder in her chest.

“Maybe a little . . . tipsy.” She giggled but resisted the urge to cover her mouth in embarrassment. Faith Harrington never giggled. Until now, that is. “Make that a lot tipsy,” she admitted.

A sexy smile tilted his lips. “What the hell were you ladies drinking?” he asked.

“Umm . . .” She closed her eyes, trying to remember. “I had a bottle of Bud Light before Kate arrived, one after, then Joe sent over a shot or two.” She opened her eyes and shrugged. “Maybe it was three bottles.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Definitely three.” At least she didn't remember there being a fourth.

“You sing well.” He complimented her in a smooth voice that washed over her like a warm caress.

“Thanks. It's an easy song.”

“Kiss Me.” The song lyrics bounced silently between them and she couldn't tear her gaze from his mouth.

His hot gaze met hers, making her wonder if he could read her mind.

“I don't usually get into karaoke,” she said. “Or shots of vodka.”

“I wouldn't think so, princess, or you wouldn't be feeling the effects so strongly.”

She loved how he used that word, the way it rolled off his tongue like an endearment. Not that she'd ever admit as much to him.

“You're right about that. I'm definitely feeling something.” Because his hand not only still held her arm, but he ran his thumb back and forth over her skin. But she wasn't complaining. She liked his touch way too much.

“Ready to call it a night?” he asked.

“That's probably a good idea. I just need to say good night to Kate and then I'll go up to my place. Kinda convenient that I live right upstairs.” She took a few steps and realized she wasn't steady on her feet. She made a mental note to buy herself a pair of flat shoes. Damn Carter and his insistence she wear high heels, anyway.

But Ethan's hand was still there, keeping her upright, and she was grateful. “Thanks,” she said to him. “But I'm sure I can manage this.”

“I doubt that.” His low laugh rumbled in her ear. “Come on. I'll take you on up myself.”

Before she could argue, he wrapped his arm around her waist, and she no longer wanted to fight him. He pulled her close, his hard body aligning with hers.

She closed her eyes for a second and inhaled deeply, taking in the scent she knew would arouse her for a long time to come. “You smell good,” she murmured.

“You smell better.” His gruff voice brought her out of her daydream and she realized she'd spoken out loud.

He pulled her tighter against him.

They reached Kate's table and she leaned over to whisper in her friend's ear. “I've had way too much to drink so I'm going upstairs before I get in trouble.”

Kate glanced from Faith to Ethan, who waited beside her. “Oh, honey, I think you already found trouble,” Kate said softly.

Faith giggled again. “He found me.”

“Are you sure you know what you're doing?” Kate asked, concern in her voice.

Faith nodded. “I'm just going upstairs to sleep.”

Kate eyed Ethan warily as she spoke, then crooked a finger telling Faith to lean in closer.

Faith complied.

“Make sure that sleep is all you do. Because when you do have sex with the man, you want to make sure you're sober enough to remember every second!” Kate whispered.

Faith felt sure she was blushing, but she was so hot and bothered she couldn't be sure. “I told you I'm not ready for anything with any man.” Even one who smelled like musk and made her want . . . everything.

Kate narrowed her gaze. “Well, he sure looks primed and ready to me, so be careful.”

Faith hugged her best friend tight and rose.

Ethan had his hand around her before she could wobble or fall. Something told her she wouldn't be as comfortable with this situation if she were sober, but that same voice admitted she was glad she wasn't. With a little alcohol in her, she felt freer to be the self she normally would have kept in check.

“See you later,” Faith said to Kate and the rest of the women at the table.

All, including Lissa, stared at Faith and Ethan, dumbstruck. Not just because he was back in town, showing his face, but also because he had his arm around Faith's waist.

Yep, she was going to have some serious regrets come morning. She looked into Ethan's eyes and realized morning was many, many hours away.

 

 

You smell good.
Ethan nearly groaned just remembering her arousal-laden words, and there was only so much a man could take. Even now, she tortured him. He walked behind Faith, up the stairs leading to her apartment, his hand on her waist to steady her. And she needed steadying. Between the high heels and the alcohol, her long legs wobbled in her ridiculous but sexy heels. Then there was the short skirt and ruffled tank hanging off one shoulder. With each delicate step up, he caught a glimpse of skin on her thigh. If the back stairs weren't dark, he could probably see more. As it was, he was left to wonder if she wore lace panties or a thong. Just the thought had him breaking into a sweat.

They reached the top step at last.

“Whew. Made it,” Faith said, even her voice turning him on.

He came up beside her and waited patiently while she opened her purse and began looking for her keys. “Can I help you?”

“Nope. I've got it.”

But she didn't. “Hold this?” She handed him a compact mirror. “And this.” A tube of lip gloss. “This.” A small wallet came next.

He juggled each in his hands.

“How much can you fit into such a tiny bag?” he asked. The workings of the female mind had always confounded him.

“You'd be surprised,” she murmured. “Gotcha!” She pulled out a set of keys, holding them up in triumph.

He wanted to grab them before she dropped them over the railing, but his hands were full.

“Here. Just dump all that in here.” She opened her purse and he poured her things inside.

She turned to put the key in the lock, fumbling and obviously having trouble.

“Here.” He intended to take the keys from her and do it himself, but she didn't let go. Instead, he found himself grasping her delicate hand and attempting to maneuver the key into the lock. In the dark. While leaning close and inhaling a fragrant scent that smelled suspiciously like strawberries. The kind he'd like to hand-feed her while her tongue slowly licked the juice off of each of his ten fingers.

The key missed its target again.

Faith laughed softly and Ethan swore.

Her skin was soft and smooth and he couldn't concentrate. “Give me the damn thing,” he said gruffly.

She let go and the keys fell to the floor. “Oops!”

He bent down and picked up the elusive metal object. “Step aside.”

She did as he asked.

Free from her overpowering nearness, he shoved the key into the lock and let them into a dark room. He felt for the light switch on the wall, fumbling in the unfamiliar setting until he literally felt Faith brush past him, her body touching his, then she was gone.

Finally, blessedly, she flicked on a small lamp in what looked like the den. She then flopped into an oversized chair and sprawled there.

“See? That wasn't so hard,” she said with an endearing grin.

“Speak for yourself, princess.” He was hard as a rock and looking at her, head back against the cushion, arms and legs spread wide, he was getting stiffer by the second.

He really ought to leave before he ended up doing something she would definitely regret come morning. If she were sober and capable of making a coherent decision, that would be another story.

Because he wanted her badly. “I should go home.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “Really? Because I thought you'd want to talk about your earlier
proposition
.”

She said the words with such cute innuendo, he was unable to suppress a grin. “The one you turned down?” he reminded her.

“I did, didn't I?” She sounded almost deflated.

He nodded. “You did.”

She glanced up at the ceiling. “April Mancini offered me the store next to hers to open my interior design business, but there's no way I could afford the rent without clients.”

Her words opened up possibilities and his pulse kicked into overdrive. “So you need me?”

She bolted upright in the chair and immediately grabbed her head in her hands. “Oh boy.” She waited a few seconds and lifted her head more slowly this time. “That's better. What was I saying? Oh yeah. I need your
business
,” she corrected him.

He was shocked she could recall his last statement let alone her own train of thought. Needing his business was a good start. “So you'll take the job?”

She bit down on her lower lip. “I shouldn't. I mean, I'd be designing away everything that made the place my childhood home,” she said wistfully.

He took her words like a kick in the gut. He felt her pain.

“But since everything about the house and the people in it was a lie, maybe erasing the memories would be a good thing.”

He remained silent as she played devil's advocate with herself. She wasn't speaking to him. Wasn't expecting a reply. She was lost in her own mind and he let her stay there, mostly because she was talking herself into taking the job, which meant she'd be working for him.

And that meant he'd see her often. At first he'd thought she'd distract him from his goal of making a family life here with his brothers. Every hour that goal seemed further and further away. So she'd be a welcome diversion in his solitary life.

“You know, decorating that house could really put me on the map in Serendipity,” she mused, kicking her feet back and forth as she spoke.

He had a feeling thanks to her family name and reputation that she was already there, but he declined to tell her so. He figured that sober, she'd know it all too well.

“It definitely could,” he agreed with her.

“I used to think the sun rose and set on my father, but since he pleaded guilty, I don't know who he is anymore. And I'm not sure who I am either.”

Ethan wasn't sure what to say to that. Again, since he figured she wasn't really talking to him, he remained silent, appreciating the pain she'd been through. And the insight she was giving him.

Suddenly she stood, more slowly this time. “Ironically, decorating my old house—your new house—would give me the jump start I need toward finding myself again.”

He liked that his job offer would give her more than cash. That he'd actually help her in some deep and meaningful way.

“My father would be horrified to know you bought his house,” she said, still lost in thought.

He cocked an eyebrow at that and tried like hell not to take offense. “Yeah, I can just imagine.”

She glanced at him then, the first time he realized she really was aware of him during this semimonologue. “But I'm glad it was you.”

His heart beat a little faster at the admission. She didn't say why and he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

“Anyway, it'll be a good thing to take the job and wipe all traces of the Harringtons out of that house.” She swung her arm through the air, spinning as she spoke and nearly taking herself down.

He grabbed her around the waist to stop her fall and she ended up in his arms, her body aligned with his in a very tempting way. She tipped her face back and met his gaze, those soft eyes filled with wanting. The same want that had been thudding through his body all evening.

“Kiss me.” She sang the words softly, never breaking eye contact, her words both a dare and a plea.

He knew he shouldn't, but not even the strongest man could resist. Especially not when she wound her arms around his neck and whispered the words one more time.

“Kiss me,” she asked again.

So he did. He lowered his lips to hers and captured her mouth in the kiss he'd been dreaming about since running into her again. Definitely since she'd teased him from the stage and again later when she'd tempted him on the stairs.

Now she gave in to desire. Her lips softened and she kissed him back, starting slowly, with the gentle whisper of her mouth on his. The tempo quickly changed when she slid her tongue over his lips, then opened her mouth and let him inside.

He cupped the back of her head in his hand and tilted her head, deepening the connection between them. She appreciated the change because she moaned and pressed against him, her breasts crushing into his chest, her mouth devouring his.

Their kiss ten years ago had been all rough hunger on his part, excitement that he'd gotten the good girl to take the ride, then wanting to prove he was every bit the bad boy she'd thought. He hadn't counted on being blindsided by a kiss that felt like it meant so much more. So when she'd turned him down, he'd been selfishly pissed off.