Chapter 3

 

The smell of coffee wafted through the gap under the bedroom door. Kristen’s nose twitched as she cracked open one eye. At first, she thought she was dreaming, but as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and yawned, the sweet aroma penetrated her senses. For a moment, she thought that Andrew had made the coffee. Then a small twinge of grief hit her chest. Her eyes unwittingly strayed to his side of the bed, where she refused to sleep since he’d been gone.

It was then that she recalled she was not alone in the house. Ethan. The name alone caused her anguish. She wanted him gone from her house, from her life, but here he was suggesting they get married.

“Get married my ass,” she sighed, pushing back the covers.

Kristen eased herself from the bed and put on her robe, which she picked up from the armchair. Pulling it tightly around her, she knotted the string at the waist and slipped into her bed slippers. She didn’t want to face anyone, not after what her mother-in-law was trying to do. However, she needed coffee to keep her sane and one of her enemies was making it difficult to resist.

As she left her bedroom, her thoughts strayed to Camila. Kristen had spent the evening locked in her room. She’d emailed Camila around seven and had expected a reply.

It was strange. Usually, she would reply to her messages within fifteen minutes or less. The email remained unopened. She told herself that if her friend didn’t reply by morning she’d have to make the rare phone call. After coffee, she’d check the email messages and do what she needed to do. With that settled, she descended the stairs.

With much reluctance to see Ethan, she entered the kitchen. He was sitting at the breakfast table with a pile of pancakes, bacon, and eggs set out in the center. His own plate was empty and she looked curiously at him.

“Good morning,” he greeted when she ignored him and headed for the coffee.

“Is it?” was her sarcastic reply.

“It could be if you lose the attitude.”

Whirling to face him, she gave him a scorching look. “Maybe it would have been a good morning if I didn’t have an intruder in my house!”

“Like it or not, I’m not going anywhere,” he replied quite easily. “Now join me. I put a lot of effort into making breakfast.”

“No, thank you.” She reached for a cup and poured coffee in it, then turned to go back out.

Ethan scraped his chair back and stood, looking at her with displeasure on his face. “You are going to sit, whether you like it or not and you’re going to listen to me for once.”

He hadn’t raised his voice but his steel-like tone made Kristen stare for a moment. “I am not one of your Navy subordinates who you can order around Mr. Broderick…” she started to say.

“Sit!”

Gritting her teeth, she complied, telling herself she was only doing so because she hated confrontation. Ethan sat down once more and reached for his coffee. Taking a gulp of hers, she waited for his next words.

“About what we discussed last night,” he began.

“Pray tell, what did we discuss?” she asked sweetly.

With a smile, he continued, “About us getting married.”

“I’m not marrying you,” she said.

“And I don’t want to marry you either, but you don’t have a choice.”

“I’ll find someone else… and no, it’s not my lawyer.”

“Who you’re gonna find at this short notice? Some stranger you know nothing about?”

“Everybody is a stranger until you get to know them,” she ventured.

“At least you know me.”

“All too well,” she replied in an undertone.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, but my answer is still no.” She stood. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to charge myself for the day and I like doing it alone.”

Before he could stop her, she picked up her coffee mug and headed for the door. She passed the living room, heading down a passage. At the end of the passage was a door, which she pushed. This was her studio, a place that belonged to her alone. Andrew had given her the small room where she was free to dabble in her hobby as a painter. She was terrible at it and kept her artwork hidden, but here she felt like she belonged.

Once inside, Kristen locked the door and plopped herself on the sofa by the window. Coffee in hand, she recalled spending many mornings like this after what she discovered about her husband. There was no other way to put it. His secret had shattered her and would have shattered his parents had they known.

She was packed and ready to walk out when he begged her to stay. They reached a compromise in their relationship. Admittedly, sometimes she questioned her decision to stay. However, their friendship became stronger because of it and she found she could trust him.

She saw him through the roughest period of his life and stood by him because she felt he needed her. He’d deceived her, but she knew he wasn’t to blame. It wasn’t something he could help.

Now she was alone and about to lose her daughter. If she’d left him all those years ago, none of this would be happening. Then again, she probably wouldn’t have had her daughter. Hailey was the bright spark in all this and Kristen did not regret her decision to have her despite the circumstances.

It was unfortunate that she could not reveal the truth to Andrew’s parents, per the promise she made to him. She just had to find a way out of this mess Helen dragged her into.

Once she was finished with her coffee she returned to the kitchen. Ethan was not there. She refilled her coffee and eyed the food. She was hungry, having not eaten the day before. She’d missed all three meals and now her stomach was reminding her of that fact. She took two pancakes, some eggs, topped that up with a pile of bacon and drowned it in syrup.

She was gustily digging into the breakfast when the door pushed open and Ethan entered. Apparently, he’d just taken a shower. He was dressed in a pair of shorts and an undershirt, showing off those darn bulgy biceps and pectoral muscles she hated. His hair, which had grown past his shoulders, was still damp and hanging loose. The beard was gone, revealing his strong angular jaw and full fleshy lips.

With the entry of her brother-in-law, her appetite departed. She dropped the fork and picked up her coffee.

“No need to leave,” he said. “I just came to get my cell phone.”

He picked up the device from the counter and headed to the door. As he turned his back, she noticed a scar on his left shoulder. It was new and seemed almost freshly healed. Before she knew what she was thinking, she heard herself asking about it. “Where’d you get that?”

Ethan turned. “I bought it yesterday.”

“I’m not talking about the cell phone,” she replied.

“Oh. It’s nothing.”

“It can’t be nothing. It looks almost fresh.”

He narrowed his eyes. “So now you care about me?”

“I’ve always…” she trailed off. “No, I don’t care about you. You could get mauled by a bear for all I care!” Getting up from the table, Kristen dumped the rest of her food into the trash and set the plate into the sink. Her coffee she took with her and brushed passed him on her way out.

What did she care anyway? He meant nothing to her. Kristen pushed Ethan to the back of her mind as she went to her room.

Within the next hour, she’d showered, changed and was back downstairs on the phone with her lawyer. Their conversation started the same as always him pleading with her to try and reach a resolution with her mother-in-law out of court.

“What am I paying you for?” she asked when he suggested she meet with Helen. “Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”

“I’m on your side, always. But where are you going to find a husband at this short notice?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I am not that ugly…”

“You are beautiful,” he said.

She ignored him and continued. “Men find me quite attractive.”

“I know,” he interrupted her again. “If you weren’t my client…”

“What?”

“It would be inappropriate...”

Kristen heard what he said and was reminded of Ethan’s remark the day before. Was her lawyer attracted to her? Suddenly, she was tempted to marry him just to spite Ethan and Helen. But marriage was a serious matter, not something she took lightly.

Since the death of her husband, she hadn’t even gone on a coffee date, let alone think about getting married. Until yesterday.

Coming back to the present, she listened to the lawyer urging her to either get married quickly to convince the judge she was serious, or ask Helen to make the judge reconsider.

“I’d rather marry a homeless man than beg Helen for anything,” Kristen said.

“Then find someone fast, get married, and start making the marriage work. The court is going to send someone to check the home to make sure it’s a real marriage.”

“A real marriage? How does he expect a real marriage in three months? I think he is not expecting a marriage at all. I bet Helen put him up to this and they are expecting me to lose. Well, over my dead body!”

“Well, Kristen, you have little time. Do you want me to contact a match-making service for you? There are plenty of eligible bachelors out there. It’s the easiest way to find a husband.”

That didn’t sound too bad. “Can you do that?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“A matchmaking service. Is that legitimate? It’s not like one of those dating sites now, is it?”

“No, I know someone who pairs people together. She uses her own system and it’s been quite successful.”

Desperate times called for desperate measures. “Okay, do it.”

As soon as she hung up the phone, she doubted she made the right decision. It was the only option at the moment. Where else would she find a suitable man who could be a good father to her daughter?

Getting up from the sofa, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Ethan leaning against the banister at the foot of the stairs. She itched to ask him how long he’d been standing there, but she got her answer before she could.

“A matchmaking service? You’re joking… right?”

“What? You think you’re a better option?”

Without an answer, he stalked over to stand within inches of her. “Give me the reason why you’re so against me. If your reason is good enough, I won’t bother you anymore.”

“I hate you,” flew from her lips.

“Really?”

“I don’t love you.”

“And you would love some guy whose name you don’t even know, who this matchmaker hasn’t even yet chosen. Nice try.”

“At least they’ll have a job and can provide for the family.”

“Is that the reason, because I don’t have a job, or are you afraid?”

Kristen thought that was a ridiculous question. “Afraid of what?”

Ethan stepped closer, so close that she felt his body heat and his male scent tickled her nose.

Her face flushed, much to her chagrin as her heart skipped another beat. “What else could there be?” she asked, but her voice came out hoarse.

“You’re afraid of what might happen between us.”

Pressing her palm against his chest she pushed hard, but it was as though pressing against a brick wall. His body heat scorched her hands, causing her to pull them back. “Out of my way,” she croaked, hating the way her voice sounded. “You’re crazy.”

“I can see the fear in your eyes. And the way you’re trying to run away from me now, you know I’m right.”

“Your reverse psychology mumbo-jumbo won’t work on me, Ethan,” she declared, her voice now clearer. “Now out of my damn way!”

He stepped aside, but not before he whispered, “You’re afraid.”

Irritating sonofabitch! Afraid my ass. I hate the damn lunatic, she cursed as she made her way to her studio. Afraid? What hell would I be afraid of? Nothing would happen between us, it was all in his own damn head, she argued. Not after what happened years ago, she would never get involved with Ethan… never.

Kristen spent the rest of the day locked in her studio. Her mood had soured and refused to mellow. In addition to Ethan’s presence, Camila was not answering her emails, nor did she pick up the phone. Her thoughts kept wandering back and forth between Ethan and Camila. She needed her friend now more than ever before.

Camila was good at helping her sort her feelings. Every time she thought about Ethan, she became angrier. Why was he back and what did he really want? By nightfall, she’d stressed herself out over her situation and the aggravation that Ethan was now causing her.

“He needs money… right?” she whispered to herself. “I’ll just give him the money he needs and he should be on his way.”

With this enlightened thought, her mood began to lift. She left her studio around six that evening. Ethan was not there when she checked, so she made herself a salad with some leftover roasted chicken that was a few days old.

She had her checkbook out on the coffee table after her supper, while she waited for his return. Three hours later, she went up to bed, wondering where he was. Before going to her room, she checked to see if he’d moved out. His things were still there. The bastard hadn’t gone.