The Morning After
Authors: Sally Clements
THE MORNING AFTER
by
Sally Clements
The Morning After
By Sally Clements
Kindle Edition,
Copyright © 2012 Sally Clements
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Be sure to check out these other great romances also by Sally Clements.
New Beginnings – Short stories
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Cover: Heather Howland
Edited by
Cindy Davis
Dedication
Brigie, Pauline, Louisa and Fiona, this one’s for you.
Chapter One
He was tall. Blond. Good looking. With his arm around a curvy brunette, and his tongue in her mouth. A place it had no business being.
Heat flashed through Ethan Quinn as he slammed his pint on the table. “Excuse me for a moment.” He stood from the upholstered seat, half hidden from view in a shady corner, and pushed his way through the crowd on the dance floor. He’d never been in this particular club before, but his brother Sean had wanted to come and hear the smoky-voiced jazz singer visiting from Canada, and it had seemed as good a place as any to catch up.
As he approached, a wave of anger flooded Ethan at the sight of Michael’s hand edging toward the pretty brunette’s breast. Holding her in a full-body clinch, he was dirty dancing as if his life depended on it.
Ethan tapped his shoulder.
Michael’s head jerked up. His eyes widened, then a smile lifted the corners of his mouth as recognition struck. “Hi…”
It was the smile that did it. The smile that presumed collusion. That Ethan wouldn’t be furious to find his best friend’s almost fiancé snuggling up to another woman mere days after he’d proposed. The smile that gave lie to the promise he’d made to choose only her for the rest of his miserable life.
Ethan’s fist connected with Michael’s jaw.
The brunette screamed.
The singer’s voice faltered and died mid note, and the music degenerated into a haphazard discordant collection of sound, before stuttering to a halt.
Ethan nursed his bruised knuckles, feeling the dull pain of impact all the way to his elbow. Two bouncers were on Ethan instantly, grabbing his arms with painful grips.
“Out,” a black suited gorilla muttered.
“Oh, believe me, I’m going.” Ethan glared at the man sprawled on the ground before him. “Break it off—or I tell her.” He laced just enough menace in his tone to ensure Michael knew he wasn’t kidding. Cara didn’t need a husband who was a love-rat. No decent woman needed that. Ethan turned to the bouncer. “I’ve done what I needed to do.”
Sean met him outside. “I thought the plan was to go incognito.” Sean’s forehead creased in a frown. “Punching out some random guy is hardly low key.”
Ethan rubbed his stinging knuckles, then stretched his fingers in a tentative flex. “He’s no random guy. That’s Cara’s man.”
Sean’s eyes widened. “Ah, no
.
” A blast of music blared through the door as it opened and a crowd of revelers exited. “Let’s get out of here.”
They parted at Ethan’s rented BMW.
“I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.” Regret niggled that their catch-up time had been cut short, but Sean was on duty in the morning—the last thing he needed was a late night bender with his older brother.
“Just try not to get into any more trouble.” Sean grinned. “I don’t want to have to arrest you. You’re not supposed to even be here until tomorrow afternoon. You can’t afford the publicity…”
“I know.” Ethan rubbed his hand through his overlong hair, hating the feel of it flopping over his face. But he couldn’t cut it—there was still another week and a half of filming before he could return to his usual crop.
Sometimes being famous sucked.
And tomorrow he’d have to talk to Cara. Tell her, before someone else did. A fat raindrop splattered on the car roof. Doubtless the first of many. Ethan zipped his leather jacket, tugged open the car door, and ducked inside, feeling a grimace on his face.
By the time he drove onto the motorway, the windscreen wipers were struggling to keep up with the driving rain.
Typical Irish weather.
He flicked on the radio, and turned up the heat, heart heavy as he headed for the anonymity of his rented hotel room.
****
Sweat trickled down Cara Byrne’s spine. She wriggled inside the heavy costume, wishing she could somehow free a hand to scratch, then gave up in disgust as the heavy head wobbled. She couldn’t even see in this thing. Why, oh why, had she consented to dress up for the fundraiser?
As a member of the organizing committee, there were plenty of jobs she could have chosen. She could have manned the coconut shy. Could have snagged the job of handing out goldfish to kids who managed to win one throwing hoops, if Caitlin Murphy hadn’t leapt in there first.
Instead, she’d been late to the huge fairground set-up on the one patch of green in the middle of Donabridge, and as a result been stuck with the last job going. The one nobody wanted. That of dressing up as Winnie the Pooh.
She shuffled toward the huge wall where she was supposed to do her thing. If she hadn’t been so distracted by Ethan’s message, she would be handing out goldfish instead of sweltering in the midsummer heat in a small town in County Kildare.
She stopped short as an ice cream-clutching kid almost knocked her over.
She’d been in the shower when Ethan called. Then been frantically multitasking. Bread in the toaster—she could eat it on the way. Hairdryer on, blasting heat, which would leave her hair in a thick blonde cloud. Yet through it all she’d heard the beep signaling a missed message.
His recorded voice had sounded so strange. “Cara? Pick up. It’s Ethan. Pick up.” Silence had stretched for long moments. “Oh, dammit.” His voice lowered. “Are you okay? I’ll see you at the fair. I’ll explain everything when I see you.”
Cara’d called him back straight away. But his cell phone had flicked to voicemail, indicating he’d turned it off. Which was so not like him. No matter what his mood, he always had his cell on. His assistant needed instant access.
A hand grabbed the arm of her bulky costume. “Here you are.”
The hand pulled her to an elaborate wall with a hole carefully carved in its centre.
“Okay, now you know what you’re supposed to be doing, right?” Caitlin’s sweet voice wafted up from a hidden point to her left. “You’re Winnie the Pooh. And you’ve gone through the hole into Rabbit’s house to eat his honey, eaten too much, and got stuck. I’ve got the honey pots stacked up here, all we need is you stuck in the wall.”
“Yes, I understand.” Cara wished the day was over, and it hadn’t even begun. There were three long hours before she could climb out of this ridiculous costume.
“Can’t hear you!” Caitlin’s voice rang out. She even had the cheek to giggle.
Cara clenched her teeth.
“Bend over; I’ll help you into position.”
It was like trying to pee in a bucket blindfolded. Not impossible, but darned difficult.
“Okay, now put your arms out,” Caitlin said. “And step forward.”
Cara did so with her arms extended and her back bent, thinking what an idiot she must look. Thank goodness Michael couldn’t see her. He was working—spending long hours in the office.
He was very conscientious. That’s probably why all her family thought he was perfect for her. Solid, stable, and a good bet. Not her type at all, really, she’d always had a thing for hell-raisers. Dad liked him. Mum liked him. Even Ryan and Finn liked him, and they’d never liked any of the men she went out with before.
But despite her family’s seal of approval, she just couldn’t persuade herself to accept his proposal of marriage. He was gorgeous and sexy, but somehow…
Her thighs rubbed against the costume’s rough interior.
They’d messed around, but hadn’t slept together yet. There’d been plenty of opportunity, but something was lacking. A spark.
She’d hidden that fact from Ethan when she rang to tell him of Michael’s proposal. He would have asked the question she really didn’t want to answer—
Why?
To Ethan, being involved with someone definitely meant taking them to bed. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t made love before. She’d thrown herself headlong into a passionate affair with Dev Coonan when she was barely out of her teens, and look how
that
ended.
The very first time she trusted a man enough to stretch her wings, she’d crashed and burned when a spiked drink had led to a drunk and disorderly arrest. The weasely Dev had made his escape quickly, leaving her stumbling on the road outside the pub. Since then she’d wised up. There would be no more bad boys for her. And now that she’d finally finished her training and got a sensible job teaching English in The Donabridge Secondary School for boys, she couldn’t risk any hint of scandal.
She really should consider Michael’s proposal. After all, he was hardly likely to have proposed if he didn’t love her, was he?
An insecure little voice inside whispered words of doubt.
Michael’s ambitious,
the poisonous voice sneered.
And you’re the boss’s daughter.
Her musings were interrupted by a sharp push from behind. Cara cursed in an unladylike way, liberated in the knowledge that Caitlin couldn’t hear.
“That’s perfect! You’re half in.” Caitlin laughed. “Wow, you look just perfect. Absolutely huge ass though!”
“Thanks,” Cara muttered. At least there was no need for Caitlin to stick around and torment her any further. She could go back to her goldfish, leaving Cara crouched over, waving her arms around and tilting her head to make Pooh look ‘real’ for half an hour. Then she’d have a break.
Caitlin hadn’t gone. “I’m so excited. Imagine, the premiere and the dinner are tonight!”
Cara indulged in an over-the-top eye roll.
“I remember Ethan from school, although he was so much older than me,” she continued. “He was in your class wasn’t he? And he’s such a hunk. I wonder if he’ll remember me.”
Women world over wished Ethan would remember them. They always had. Long before he’d taken to the screen as Crash Carrigan in a number of action hero roles. And seduced every one of his leading ladies.
Cara felt a grin on her lips.
She must be the only woman in the world who was immune to his spell. Ever since the first day in secondary school when they sat next to each other. Ethan hadn’t been like the other kids. Instead of joking around and hanging out after class, he kept to himself. He was small for his age. And his Dublin accent set him apart in a classroom of boys, who had known each other all their lives.
It had taken months for her to discover that he had a younger brother, still in primary school. Cara’d seen his mother—a pale, thin woman—with them at the shops sometimes. But she’d seen no sign of his father, no one had. But she knew.
She’d worked it out the day she went in to the hospital where her mother was a doctor, and saw Ethan waiting for his drunken father to be discharged from the emergency room.
Cara shifted in the heavy costume. Puffed a targeted breath to flick the hair out of her eyes. It smelled in here too, of moldy fake fur and sweat. A dull ache bloomed in her back. Surely it must be time for a break? She tugged backwards.
The costume didn’t move.
Panic welled up as she tugged again. She peered out through the viewing slot in the mask’s wide mouth, unable to see more than a sliver in front of her. A sliver filled with people passing by, and a small boy standing between smiling parents. He pointed at her head, and wiggled with excitement. “Look, it’s Pooh!”
Cara cartwheeled her arms frantically.
“He’s waving!” The high voice pealed out, and the toddler waved back.
His parents smiled indulgently. Handed him a bucket of popcorn and turned away.
Caitlin hadn’t been able to hear her earlier, but maybe if she shouted…”Help!”
