Amelia
Amelia woke up the next morning surprised by how well she’d slept and how comfortable she felt. Ethan’s bed felt...right. She finally knew how Goldilocks must have felt. She smiled to herself as she snuggled in under the blankets again. Slowly, as she woke up more and more, she realized how late she’d slept and how quiet the house was.
A glance at the clock on the small bedside table told her that it was nearly one o’clock in the afternoon. So where was Ethan? And why hadn’t he woken her up long before this?
She sat up slowly, testing the waters. Mornings could be a little tricky. Her stomach tightened briefly, but she managed to breathe through the initial nausea. Once everything had settled back to where it was supposed to be, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and waited a second or two more. Just as she was about to get up, she noticed a note beside the clock.
The paper was slightly ragged from being ripped out of a spiral bound notepad, but Ethan’s handwriting was neater than she’d expected. It was a hurried scrawl, but very readable. She shook her head at herself. It was a bad infatuation when a girl got giddy over a guy’s handwriting.
Amelia-
I didn’t want to wake you up. I had to go into work, but I’ll make sure to be home around six. There’s some food in the fridge, but call me if there’s anything you want or need.
Ethan
She glanced down at the edge of the paper and saw the number written there. There was also another small note, scrawled more quickly than the one at the top.
I guess you know your old man better than I do, but be careful. Stay inside. I’ll see you tonight.
He was worried about her. Or he was worried about the child she carried. Either way, she walked to the shower with a spring in her step. For the next eight or so months, they were pretty much a package deal anyway.
The shower didn’t take as long as Amelia had hoped. When she was dressed again, she discovered she still had around four hours to fill before Ethan would be back. She put her hair in a quick bun and wandered out into the living room.
It felt slightly awkward to be alone in his house. She didn’t feel like she had the right to dig around, but she also didn’t want to do nothing but sit and stare at the wall until six o’clock. There had to be something she could do and there had to be something it was okay for her to look through.
Not that there was a lot to look through anyway, even if she had been feeling a bit nosey. Ethan had the basic furniture, a couch and a coffee table in the living room in front of the television on the wall. There was a low bookcase against the opposite wall with paperback detective novels piled in it haphazardly. There were also car and motorcycle guides that were dog-eared and smudged with greasy fingerprints. A row of DVDs filled the bottom shelf. She glanced through and found a good mix of action and comedy.
He seemed like such a normal guy. And he was neat, too. The things in the bookcase weren’t exactly stacked and alphabetized, but they weren’t dusty. And the floor she was kneeling on looked like it was vacuumed fairly recently.
Amelia discovered that she was smiling just thinking about him. Smiling in that lovesick way she’d seen other women smile when they talked about their boyfriends’ most minor traits. As if a man taking out the trash without asking or bringing a forgotten lunch by the office was the same as him planning a romantic flight to Rome or proposing on top of the Eiffel Tower. She’d probably had the same smile when she’d read Ethan’s note.
She pushed herself upright. There was no sense in getting all worked up. He was letting her stay temporarily because he had a personal interest in making sure she was okay. They’d seen each other a grand total of twice. It didn’t make sense for her to feel this way about him. He certainly wouldn’t be feeling this way about her.
Logic failed her as she remembered the kiss they’d shared last night. His hands had cradled her face gently, even though the rest of him had been tense with anger. He should have intimidated her, with his big muscular body caging her in when they’d spoken out on the deck, but instead desire like lightning had flooded her whenever he was close.
The woodsy smell of his soap, the clean scent of his skin, the warm leather of his vest...it all combined to make her weak in the knees. And she thought he at least wanted her as badly as she wanted him physically. All that remained was whether he planned to do anything about it.
She walked back into the bedroom and turned her phone back on with a sigh. Missed calls flooded the screen. There were over twenty from her father. There were three from Anthony, too, which surprised her.
She hadn’t even thought about him since Ethan had walked through the door. She’d have to call him and arrange to give his ring back sometime soon. He wouldn’t want Ethan involved in their married life, at least not in such a public way.
Her stomach rumbled, but this time it seemed to be hunger. She turned the phone off again, tossed it onto the bed and headed to the kitchen. She knew she needed to work everything out, but right now she needed space more than anything else. And a snack.
A quick perusal of the kitchen told her Ethan didn’t eat at home a lot. She settled for a bowl of cornflakes and the last of the milk. It was two days out of date but it still tasted okay, so she went for it.
She sat down and watched mindless television while she ate, being sure to avoid the news and gossip stations. She doubted the news had broken yet, but if they were talking about her already, she didn’t want to know about it. The cereal was gone too soon and she was left with nothing to do after she washed out the bowl and put it away.
Ethan was probably right when he told her she should stay in the house, but she chafed at the restriction. She could have gone to the grocery store and had a nice dinner ready when he came home. That would be both impressive and time consuming. Then she realized that, even if she’d been able to leave, she didn’t have any money. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she blinked them away as she stood up determinedly.
She turned her phone on again, saw three more missed calls from her father, and then sent Ethan a text.“Would you mind stopping at the grocery store on your way home?”
The reply was almost immediate.“What do you need?”
Before she could answer, she got a call.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” Ethan said. “On second thought, just text this guy and tell him; he’ll deliver it.”
Her cheeks heated up. “It’s not that big of a deal, honestly. I...”
“No, I know there’s pretty much nothing to eat there. It’s not a big deal.”
“I don’t have any money to give him,” she explained, trying to hold onto her confidence.
“I’ve got it,” Ethan answered. “He’s joining The Angel’s Keepers, close to getting his colors. He’ll be happy to help. He’s a tall guy, blond hair. He’ll be riding a Harley and his name’s Connor Smith. I’ll tell him to show you his license.”
Amelia stood there in silent surprise for a moment. He’d thought of every single contingency and way to keep her safe. “Thank you.”
“Sure thing. Don’t forget to text me when he gets there.”
“I won’t,” she promised.
“Okay. See you soon.”
“Bye.” She disconnected and then hurried to make a grocery list.
She texted it to the number Ethan had sent her and got another nearly instant reply.“Should be there in about 45 minutes. If you think of anything else, just text me again. It’s no problem.”
Amelia settled herself on the couch with one of the detective novels, hoping to kill some time while she waited for the grocery delivery. She soon found herself engrossed in the story to the point that the knock on the door nearly made her drop the paperback. Her heart pounded, but when she looked out of the small window, she saw a tall, blond guy on the small porch. There was a shiny red motorcycle parked on the street.
“Connor?” she asked, when she opened the door. “Come in.”
He didn’t step forward. Instead he held out his driver’s license where she could see it easily. “Ethan would kick my ass if you didn’t check the license,” he said with a smile.
Amelia took it, feeling slightly embarrassed. The picture matched the man and the name was Connor Smith.
“Thanks, I forgot about that part,” she said, handing it back. “And thanks for doing this, by the way.”
“No problem,” he said easily as he followed her to the kitchen and began unpacking the backpack. “Here.” He handed her the bag on the very top. “Eggs.”
Amelia watched him as he unloaded the pack and slowly realized how much she’d asked for. “I’m really sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I guess this wasn’t easy to get all of this here on a motorcycle. I wasn’t thinking about it.”
“Necessity is the mother of invention,” Connor said with a grin as he dug down into the pack, checking all the nooks and crannies. “All right, I think that’s everything. I’ll head out, but Ethan says if you need anything before he gets home, you can call me and let me know.”
“I think this is fine,” Amelia said. “Thanks a lot, though. I hope you weren’t doing anything important.”
“Nah,” he said, walking back through the living room with her. “I work from home, so I get to make my own hours.”
“What do you do?”
“Graphic designer,” he answered. “I’m in the middle of a huge website redesign, so a chance to get out from behind the desk was great.” He held his hand out. “It was good to meet you, Amelia.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” she said with a smile. “And good luck with the site.”
He walked out and she watched him ride away before she closed and locked the door. Yet another perfectly normal member of a motorcycle club. For a moment, she wished her father had been there to meet him. Maybe then he’d see they were just people like anyone else.
She shook her head, her hand trailing down to rest on her stomach again. She doubted there was anything anyone could do to change her father’s opinion about The Angel’s Keepers now.
As she began mixing ingredients for the chocolate pie she’d planned, she thought back to what she’d overheard of her father’s business meeting. Should she tell Ethan? She chewed her lip. What could he do? The sad answer was nothing. There was nothing legal that he could do about any of it. She didn’t think he’d try anything illegal, but she didn’t know for sure. They just didn’t know each other well enough yet.
She tried to tell herself ] it was better not to talk to him about it, but that didn’t ring true. Amelia sighed and pushed it away. Like everything else in her messed-up life, she’d decide what to do about this later.
# # #
“It’s me,” Amelia heard Ethan call from the living room several hours later.
She grinned as she put the last glass on the table and the oven timer dinged. Her timing had been perfect.
“I’m in here!” she called back, eager for him to come in and see what she’d done with the money she’d spent.
Ethan stepped into the kitchen and looked around his eyebrows lifting in surprise as he sniffed the air. “Something smells good. Hell, something smells great.”
“Pork tenderloin with a peppercorn rub, au gratin potatoes, green beans, ginger carrots, and a chocolate pie,” she said proudly as she leaned back against the counter casually, trying to project the air that she cooked big meals every day. “Sit down and eat.”
“Give me just a second to get cleaned up,” he said, holding up his dirty hands for her to see. “I’ll be right back.” When he walked past her to the bathroom sink, he pulled her against him, being careful not to get her clothes dirty, and kissed the top of her head. “It all sounds great, Amelia. Thanks.”
She glowed with pride as she put large helpings of everything on his plate and set a bottle of beer down beside it. She’d considered getting a bottle of wine, but she couldn’t drink it and he didn’t exactly strike her as a wine drinker.
When he came back, hands and face scrubbed clean, his slightly damp hair pushed back off of his face, her heart ached slightly. Would it be like this every day if they were together?
“Tell me what you think,” she said after he’d taken several bites. She couldn't take the suspense anymore. It tasted good to her, but what if he hated it?
“It’s good,” he said, opening his beer. “I guess you can tell I don’t cook.”
She shrugged. “I don’t get to cook at home either.”
He took another bite of potatoes and then pointed at her plate. “Then where’d you learn to do all of this?”
She took a sip of her water. “My friend Aubrey.”
“I like her already.”
Amelia smiled. “You would, I think. We met in middle school. When I got to go to her house, we’d always make dinner. Her mom worked and her dad was in the Marines, so he was gone a lot. And Aubrey really liked to cook. She couldn’t believe I didn’t know how, so she taught me a lot.”
“Tell her thanks next time you see her,” Ethan said as he put more carrots on his plate.
“I will. She lives in Texas now, though, so it might be awhile.”
“What about your other friends?” Ethan asked.
Amelia looked up at him, wondering how to answer that question. “What do you mean?” she asked instead of trying to come up with something.
“Well...I mean...do you need to let them know where you are? What’s going on?” He gave a shrug. “I talked about myself a lot last night, and I don’t know a whole hell of a lot about you. I’m trying to fix that.”
She cleared her throat. If she didn’t make her tone as matter of fact as possible, she was going to come across as incredibly pathetic and that was the last thing she wanted. “Well...the fact is...I don’t really have a lot of friends other than Aubrey. I know a lot of people, but most of them are the daughters of my father’s political acquaintances. I don’t really want to deal with them right now. All they would want is gossip.”
Ethan nodded. “Has your father called?”
“Yes.” Amelia got up and took her plate to the sink. “I haven’t answered, though.”
She brought the pie back to the table along with two tall glasses of milk, which made Ethan smile.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing. It’s just...it’s been a fucking long time since I’ve had a glass of milk.”
“It’s good for your bones,” she said firmly.
“Tell me something.”
“Like what?” His eyes seemed to search her in that way that made her feel nearly naked. It wasn’t the way she wanted to be naked with him.
“Anything,” he said. “I just want to know more about the woman I’m having a kid with. I told you about my family last night, why don’t you tell me about yours? Is it just you and your dad?”
Amelia nodded, concentrating more than she really needed to on cutting slices of pie. “My mother died in a car accident when I was three,” she said quietly. “Drunk driver. I was in the car with her. It nearly killed me, too. I was in the hospital for over a month. I broke a lot of bones and had a lot of stitches.”
“Is that where the scars come from?” Ethan asked matter of factly, holding out his plate for a piece.
Amelia’s face flushed. So he had noticed them. “Yes,” she murmured. “I don’t remember not having them. I just have to miss out on the bikinis,” she tried to joke.
“They’re not anything to be ashamed of.”
She looked up at him and found him watching her closely.
“I don’t mind them,” he went on. “And you’d be sexy as hell in a bikini, scars or not.”
Amelia dropped a piece of pie onto her own plate, trying and failing to hold back her relieved grin. “Well, maybe I’ll have to have Connor bring me one tomorrow,” she said lightly.
“Like hell,” Ethan said. “There’s a few things I’d wanna be the one to take you shopping for and that’s definitely one of ‘em.”
She laughed, scooping up a bite of pie.
Ethan turned serious again. “I guess that’s why your old man was so protective,” he said. “Nearly losing you when you were just a kid.”
“That’s part of it,” she admitted. “A bigger part of it is just the fact that he’s a controlling man. And he’s in the public eye. He wants to look a certain way.”
Ethan nodded. “Makes sense. The only other question is, what the hell did we poor innocent bikers do to him?”
Amelia remembered Richard’s voice.That’s what we’re paying you for. “I don’t know of anything,” she said trying to match his light tone. “Maybe he’s jealous of your awesome jackets.”
“Couldn’t blame him there,” Ethan agreed. “But if he wants colors, he’ll have to work for ‘em just like the rest of us.”