Chapter 2

 

The hearing left her drained and frazzled. Kristen pulled a bottle of mineral water from the fridge and unscrewed the cap. As she guzzled the cold liquid, she realized just how fucked up everything was.

Hailey was seven. The child wouldn’t understand why she had to remain in the custody of her grandmother. Her daughter was going to think that her mother didn’t love her anymore. A heaviness settled in her chest from unshed tears. However, she would not give Helen the satisfaction of crying, whether on public or private.

She’d felt her eyes burn while in the courtroom and had fought to control bursting into tears. Now that she was alone, she wanted to let it rip, but she shoved down the feeling along with the water.

Tossing the empty bottle in the recycle bin, she kicked off her three-inch heels and picked them up. She was heading to the stairs when the doorbell rang. Dropping the shoes by the banister, she went to open the door. Standing there was Ethan with a motorcycle helmet under his arm, his large frame filling the doorway.

Him and that darn death contraption was what immediately came to Kristen’s mind. Glancing behind him, she noted the silver Harley parked on the concrete driveway.

“What do you want?” she asked in a sour tone.

His full lips curled in a cocky smile, irritating her. “Is that any way to greet your long-lost brother-in-law?”

Brushing past her, he stepped into the living room, dropping a duffel bag on the floor. Kristen's eyes moved over him carefully, wondering what he was doing in her house. She took in the scruffy beard, the shoulder length hair, and the dark circles under his eyes. He looked as though he hadn’t slept in days.

His dog tags hung loosely from a chain around his neck, resting in the center of his chest. Her eyes paused for a few seconds on the pendants. Beneath that were the muscled pectorals she knew existed there. His white t-shirt stretched across those muscles like a second skin and his jeans hugged his narrow waist.

Looking away from the distraction, she inquired once more, “What are you doing here?”

“I need a place to crash.”

She walked to the side table near the mantle where the phone sat and picked up the yellow pages, returning to stand before him and shove the book at him.

“What’s that for?”

“Find a hotel,” she retorted.

Ethan ignored her and began walking towards the kitchen. Kristen followed him and watched as he pulled the refrigerator door open.

“I don’t have any beer if that’s what you’re looking for,” she said.

He pulled a bottle of water and unscrewed it. He downed the liquid in one go and tossed the container in the wrong trash. Silently, she picked out the plastic bottle and placed it in the recycle bin.

Ethan strolled back to the living room, picked up his bag and started towards the staircase.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Kristen asked, one brow raised.

Ethan paused and turned. “I’ll be taking the guest room.”

“No!”

“Why not? Will you turn away family? I’m the only one on your side, like it or not.”

Kristen knew she was going to regret this but she couldn’t help but ask, “How long?”

“I don’t know,” he replied before moving.

As though he remembered something, he paused on the second step up and dropped the bag before turning and coming back to stand a foot away.

“There’s something else,” he told her, looking at her with a smirk.

“What?” her voice came out sharp.

“We’re getting married.”

“Are you out of your freaking mind?”

“You need me and I need you, so why not?”

“I don’t need you!”

“Right.”

“I’ll find someone else.”

“Who you gonna marry, your lawyer?” he queried and Kristen gave him a sharp look. “I see the way he looks at you. The guy has the hots for you.”

“And how is that any of your damn business?”

“Why do you hate me so? I remember a time when you would have jumped at the chance to get into the sack with me.”

Before she knew it, her hand came up and her open palm landed flat on his cheek. They eyed each other hotly for a few seconds and she raised her hand to repeat her assault, but he grabbed her wrist before it reached his cheek. There was a silent struggle as she tried to pull away, her amber eyes ablaze with fury. Ethan yanked and she found herself slamming hard against his chest. She fought against his grip.

“What did I do to deserve this hatred you have of me?” he asked once more.

“If you don’t remember, then you don’t deserve to know,” she spat, wrenching her hand away.

Sidestepping him, she picked up her shoes and headed up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door when she got there. The heat of anger and whatever other emotions she’d bottled up over the years seemed to want to devour her. Her skin burned as though she’d been baked in a furnace.

Peeling off her clothes, she headed to the shower and stood under the water. To cool her heated temperature, she ran the water on cold for about a minute. It was late spring, but seemed more like summer. The cold shower calmed her, but her teeth soon started chattering that she had to turn on the hot water faucet.

“What’s come over me?” she mumbled. “I’ve got to control myself.”

 

*

 

Ethan watched Kristen stomp up the stairs and his heart skipped a beat. She’d had that effect on him since the moment they laid eyes on each other ten years ago. The thought that she still affected him this way irritated him. However, things were different now. His brother wasn’t around to witness the tension between them or make sarcastic remarks about him lusting after his wife.

Andrew wasn’t the saint everyone made him out to be and Ethan wondered if Kristen knew who her late husband really was. His parents were certainly ignorant of the real Andrew Broderick, so much they placed him on a pedestal that no one could reach.

They were so blind to everything about Andrew that they hated Kristen for no apparent reason. Kristen marrying Andrew was the best thing she could have done for him. Yet Ethan felt a deep gutted envy of that very fact.

Now here he was. His attraction to her had turned into bitterness. Even through his resentment, Ethan wanted to protect her from his mother. He knew that his mother was trying to take Kristen’s daughter just to spite her. He also knew that Andrew would not have agreed to that.

After she entered her bedroom and slammed the door, he picked up his duffle bag and headed up the stairs to one of the three other bedrooms. Without thinking, he chose the one facing hers. As he entered and pushed the door shut, he wondered what she was doing.