Run to You (4 page)

Ethan pulled open the door, and her breath caught in her throat.

“Hi.” His hair once again had a finger-combed look, and there was something raw and painful in his eyes, something that made her want to reach out and comfort him, even though that was completely ridiculous. She barely knew him, he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and she was absolutely
not
here in Haven looking for a man.

“Hi.” She felt her cheeks flush, which was equally silly. What was it about Ethan Hunter that always left her feeling like a shy teenager with a crush on the high school quarterback?

“My shitty day is suddenly looking up.” He motioned her in with a smile that sent a happy shiver straight through her.

Goodness.
She followed him into the living room, although they'd obviously begun construction to convert the house into a place of business. The room smelled like fresh paint, and the beginnings of what looked like it would become a reception counter bordered the foyer. “Looks like you have a lot going on here.”

He nodded. “And lots more still to be done. I don't suppose you changed your mind about that zip-line tour?” His gaze dropped to her coral-striped skirt.

She twisted her fingers into its gauzy depths. “Not exactly.”

“You always wear those.” He gestured to her skirt. “Sexy.”

It was true; she almost always wore long, bohemian skirts. She loved the way they felt against her skin, the way they moved when she walked. They were feminine but practical, especially paired with her favorite pair of Doc Martens, as she'd done today. “Thank you.”

Her voice sounded annoyingly breathless. He'd just called her sexy, and she said
thank you
? She was terrible at this, which was for the better really. Because Ethan Hunter was clearly a player, and she did not want to be played, not by him or anyone else of his gender.

“My pleasure.” His eyes locked on to hers.

“So…I just, um, came to give this back to you.” She held the T-shirt out just as Dixie walked into the living room.
Ethan's grandmother was here.
Oh crap. The T-shirt slipped from her fingers and fluttered to the floor with a light plop.

“Gabby! What a surprise.” Dixie looked between Gabby and Ethan with obvious delight.

Ethan stooped to pick up the T-shirt with an amused grin. Did nothing fluster him? Because his grandmother had just walked in on her returning his T-shirt to him, which looked like,
God
, it looked like they'd spent the night together.

“I was just—” She glanced helplessly at the shirt he now held, her cheeks burning.

Ethan winked. “Gabby, I hear you've already met my grandmother.”

“Yes.” Gabby forced a smile. “Dixie stopped by. It's great to see you again.”

“It sure is. Well, don't let me interrupt. I'll be in the car. Take your time, you two.” With a wave, Dixie gathered her purse and went out the front door.

Gabby blew out a breath with a nervous laugh. “That was embarrassing. It totally looked like…Well, you know.” She gestured toward the shirt.

Ethan's smile said he knew exactly what it had looked like and didn't mind a bit. “Well, we can't have my gram getting the wrong idea about things. I mean, I would never want her to think I'd slept with a woman without at least taking her to dinner. So what do you say, can I take you to dinner?”

“Oh.” She took a step backward. “Not that I wouldn't like to, but I just got out of a relationship so I'm kind of taking a break from dating right now.”

Ethan pressed a hand to his chest in mock devastation. “That's a tragedy.”

She twisted her hands together, wishing she wasn't silently agreeing with him right now, because dinner with Ethan? Yeah, it would be awesome. “Well, you shouldn't keep your grandmother waiting. Thanks again for your help last week, and for the flowers.”

“Any time. And if you change your mind about that no-dating thing, you know where to find me.” He winked, walking behind her as she headed for the front door.

“I won't, but I appreciate the sentiment.” That sounded way too formal, but she couldn't help it. Ethan had strange effects on her ability to speak coherently.

His easy smile never faltered. “I totally respect that. But just so you're forewarned, I'm going to keep asking you to try the zip-line course.”

Her palms got sweaty just thinking about it. “Not my style, Ethan.”

“No?” His gaze drifted down over her skirt again. “I'd miss the skirt, it's true. But I bet you look great in jeans, too.”

With a look that left her knees feeling ridiculously weak, he climbed into his Jeep and waved good-bye.

Ethan watched her drive away, feeling stupidly disappointed she'd turned him down, even though he had no right to. It wasn't like he had trouble getting a date in this town. Too bad the only woman who'd caught his eye recently had just driven away without him.

He glanced over at Gram. She'd nodded off in the passenger seat, hands clasped over the purse in her lap. In sleep, she looked…older maybe. More vulnerable.

That feeling was back in his stomach, a sick, clenching fear that slid upward, squeezing his chest until he could barely breathe. He cranked the engine, and the Jeep roared to life.

Dixie opened her eyes and looked over at him with a smile. “You and Gabby get things sorted out?”

“Yeah.” He turned out of the driveway and headed toward Gram's house just a couple of miles down the road. Neither of them spoke during the short drive.

“Come in for a few minutes, will you?” she asked as he turned in at the brown-paneled house she'd bought over fifteen years ago when she'd pulled him out of foster care and settled here in Haven. Home, or the closest thing to it he'd ever known.

He followed her inside. She went into the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with two steaming cups of tea. He wasn't a huge fan, but he'd learned long ago that she wouldn't take no for an answer.

“We have a few things to talk about.” She handed him a cup and sat on the couch.

Yeah, they did, and there was no sense putting it off. He sat opposite her in the overstuffed chair by the window. “Gram—”

She shook her head. “My time is coming, and there's nothing either one of us can do to change it. I just wanted you to know that I'm meeting with my lawyer tomorrow. I've put all of my final wishes in writing so that none of it falls on you. Everything will be taken care of.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Okay.”

“There is one thing you can do for me.”

He leaned forward. “Anything.”

“I'd like to go to the beach one last time.”

Whatever he'd been expecting her to say, it wasn't this. But this was a request he could definitely handle. “Consider it done.”

She sipped from her tea and nodded, but he saw her chin quiver. “I always have loved the ocean.”

That was the truth. Dixie had been born and raised by the beach in Wilmington, North Carolina, about five hours from Haven. She and his grandfather had planned to take a cruise around the world after they both retired, but his grandfather had died of cancer before they got the chance. Since she'd adopted Ethan, they'd gone to the beach every summer at least once. This year, between plans for Off-the-Grid Adventures and a visit from one of her longtime friends, they hadn't gone yet. “I'll see if I can rent our usual house in Emerald Isle. It's short notice, but they might have an opening.”

“That would be perfect. Thank you, Ethan.” She beckoned for him to come sit beside her.

He crossed the living room and sat next to her on the couch, his lungs getting smaller with each breath he took.

“I've been so worried about you…about leaving you.” She took his hand and squeezed it tightly in hers. “When I told you I needed to see you settled before I go, I figured I'd have to make do with your new venture with Ryan and Mark. At least I'd know they were in town to watch out for you when I'm not here. And that's something I'm so grateful for.”

He stared down at her small, wrinkled hand entwined with his.

“But I had no idea Gabby was about to come into your life. She's special, Ethan. I can see it, and I think you can, too. I know things are still very new between you two, but I've always had a sense for these things.”

He drew back. “Gram—”

She shushed him. “I knew I was going to marry your grandfather within a few minutes of meeting him, and we had thirty glorious years together before he left this earth. I have the same feeling about you and Gabby. And now I can truly die in peace knowing that you've found the person who will love you as much as I do.”

His stomach dropped like he'd just gone into freefall.
Fuck.

Gabby let out a weary sigh. She was sitting on the worn linoleum in the kitchen, a dog biscuit clutched in her hand—by herself. As soon as she'd brought him home, Sir Lancelot ran inside the pantry to hide, and no amount of sweet talk could convince him to come back out.

“Come on, Lance.” She'd decided on the nickname since he was obviously not up for knighthood just yet. “I've got cookies. And then I thought we could go for a walk in the woods.”

His head appeared in the doorway of the pantry, cocked comically to the side.

“Did you hear a word you like? Cookie?” she asked.

His head cocked to the other side.

“Walk?”

He ran up to her, tail wagging shyly.

“You're a weirdo, Lance.” She fed him the cookie, and he crunched contentedly at her feet. Quickly, she clipped the leash to his collar before he could run back inside the pantry. “Let's take that walk. I think a little fresh air might do us both some good.”

Her new dog clearly needed to chill, and she was still flustered about her visit with Ethan earlier, so hopefully a walk would cool them both off. She led the way to the door, and they set out together along the path that led from her yard onto the town's hiking trails.

Today she'd be careful not to wander onto Ethan's property.

Lance trotted along at her side, head up and alert now that they'd left the house. He might not be much bigger than a cat, but the fact he could go hiking with her was a definite bonus.

She took them on a short walk, doubling back after only twenty minutes. It was his first day out of the shelter, after all. Even so, about halfway home, he curled up in the middle of the path and refused to go another step.

She propped her hands on her hips and looked down at him. “Seriously?”

He just stared up at her, panting.

With a sigh, she picked him up and tucked him under her arm for the rest of the walk home. She came out of the woods to the right of her house, startled to see Ethan's Jeep in the driveway. What in the world was he doing here?

He sat on her front steps, head in his hands, his back to her.

She walked up to him, but he didn't move, either so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't heard her approach or he'd fallen asleep. “Ethan?” she said softly.

He looked up, his eyes red and bloodshot, hair disheveled. She took a step back. Was he drunk? He pushed to his feet. “Can I come in?”

She narrowed her eyes, studying him. On second thought, he didn't seem so much drunk as…devastated. Had something happened? Her skin prickled with misgivings. “Sure.” She walked past him and unlocked the front door.

“You lock up when you go for a walk? You've lived in the city too long,” he said from behind her.

“Probably.” Her stomach quivered. Yes, too long.

“Did you get a dog?”

“Yes.” And Ethan still asked a lot of questions. She opened the door and motioned him inside. She put Lance down, and he darted toward the kitchen, no doubt to return to his favorite hiding spot in the pantry.

“He's…small,” Ethan said. “What's his name?”

“Sir Lancelot.”

“Hmm. That seems kind of ironic.”

“It is. I call him Lance. Are you okay?” she asked, because he didn't look okay.

At her question, he turned away and walked into the living room.

Definitely not okay. “What happened?”

“It's Gram.” His voice was flat, yet his words sent a chill down her spine. He stood there a long moment, a faraway look in his eyes. “She's dying.”

“Oh, God.” Her stomach somersaulted into her throat. “No.”

He nodded, pain etched into the wrinkles that had appeared around his eyes. “She has a brain aneurysm. It's probably going to burst sometime in the next few weeks. And…she's going to die.” His voice broke, ever so slightly, and the sound wrenched Gabby's heart right out of her chest.

“Oh, Ethan.” She wrapped her arms around herself to keep from touching him. “I can't…I just can't believe it. She's so vibrant, so full of life. I'm so sorry.”

“She thinks we're together.” He walked to the window and looked out.

Gabby grimaced. “I was afraid she might. She saw the flowers you brought me, and today with the T-shirt…”

“She told me just now that she could die in peace knowing I'd finally found someone like you to love me as much as she does.”

Gabby felt like her knees might give out beneath her. “Ethan—”

“I know.” He looked as blindsided as she felt. “What can I do?”

“You have to tell her the truth.” It was the only thing they
could
do.

He looked out the window again. “She lost her husband, my grandfather, to cancer twenty years ago. And my mother, her only child, was killed when I was ten. It was a year before she found out Mom had died, and another year before she got custody of me. Life's been nothing but unfair to her.”

“And to you, it sounds like.” She walked closer and rested a hand on his shoulder.

His muscles were so tight that her fingers practically bounced off him. “I did fine, thanks to Gram. Seems only fair to do what I can to return the favor.”