Read The Art of Ethan Online

Authors: Cara North

Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #General

The Art of Ethan (5 page)

Chapter 3

There she was. For the first time in a long time, Grace actually looked at herself in a mirror. She still had a little something, somewhere. Well, she had gained a little something everywhere, but Megan was right. She needed to snap out of it and come alive.

But how?
she wondered.

Megan was good for fun loving, no strings attached thrills, but Grace wasn't. Never had been, never would be. She could flirt, though, try to have fun, good clean, keep her clothes on kind of fun.

"Not too much, Gracie. You don't want to draw too much attention,” she said to herself aloud and applied the mascara then lip gloss. She rubbed her full lips together and remembered that it taste just like lemonade. Mitchell hated it, but he hated everything. He also told her she was fat. He never said it directly, just implied it.

Grace missed dressing up, missed caring about the way she looked. Megan spent a lot of time and energy on her looks. She always had. Grace had a balance once upon a time, or so she thought. However, years of Mitchell and their on again off again relationship had worn her self-esteem down. When her mother died, well, she just became numb.

God, I'm turning into Evelyn.
At that thought she shivered and decided to start anew or at least try to.

* * * *

Ethan had already made a huge stack of pancakes by the time she returned. He soaked in the sight of Grace slowly. Her hair was back in a braid. He liked it down and wild. Her outfit was nice and simple. The air conditioner brought great life to her ample breasts. He didn't have to touch them. He just knew they were real. Grace wasn't small and skinny; she was lush and curvy, all woman. She was oddly tan for a red-head, and that made him wonder.

"I didn't think you guys were coming back.” He handed Grace a plate as he looked her over from head to toe again. He liked her toes and the bright pink polish. Maybe he could convince her to let the artist paint them. He fought the smile that somehow came to him whenever she was around. It wasn't like she made him happy; no woman could do that.

"Girl talk.” Grace smiled. Ethan had put two Oreo cookies on her plate in addition to a short stack of pancakes.

How sweet. On second thought, he thinks I'm fat.
She lifted a brow at him. He was eyeing her with a small smile.
Men. Can't kill ‘em.

Chase was almost finished with his breakfast when Grace sat down. He knew better than to wait on Megan. If she actually ate pancakes this morning, he would insist she buy a pregnancy test this afternoon. He wondered if Grace knew they were trying. “So, tell me about this bus we're going on. Is it a long trip?"

Grace couldn't help but laugh. “No, we could actually walk it, but the bus is more fun.” They had no idea why Megan had pulled back the curtain, probably thought it was her being cute.

"What do you mean?” Ethan asked sitting across from Grace next to his brother. He wanted to be able to see her face, so he could try to read her. He could always read women. He didn't always listen to the warning, but he knew women well. They wanted him; he knew that for sure.

"You can look right out the window and see it.” Grace pointed out the front window with the curtain still open. She didn't know why it bothered her, but the fact that he sat across from her and not beside her left a slight void. He had a certain amount of warmth that he radiated.

Chase went to the window for a better look. Sure enough there was a big red double-decker bus just like the ones in England right there in little ole Beaufort.

"Is that authentic?"

"Yes, they'll tell you the whole story on the tour.” If that got attention, she might drop the big one. “You guys know where you are, right?” Grace lifted her eyes to Ethan, who seemed interested in her every word. “This is a pirate town, home of Blackbeard. Well, one of his homes. There are ships right out there in the bottom of that water. My mom used to tell us we were descendants, but I think all parents tell their kids that around here. Some of the homes are even haunted."

"Can you dive?” Chase was getting more hyper by the minute. He looked like a little boy at Christmas. He was swaying and pacing. Grace thought he might start hopping around.

"I uh ... we can find out.” Grace shrugged. She knew all the stories of her town but had never really thought about it being this interesting to people from New York.

Certainly she never considered getting in the water to see the ships beneath it.

"Do you like to go diving?” She looked back at Ethan, who was staring intently. It made her stomach flutter.

"What's that?” Ethan replied. He had been studying her face, her eyes, her lips, her hands but not listening.

"Diving, do you ever go diving?” Grace lifted her brow.
Suspect mister, you are becoming a suspect.
She always thought men were up to something. It seemed in every romance novel she ever read the men were always up to something, but that was make-believe, and this was real life. When men were up to something in real life, it generally wasn't something good.

"Oh, sure if you want to.” He lifted his coffee and heard his brother laugh. Ethan was trying to gain focus. Her eyes were mesmerizing. He couldn't quite get a handle on the color. Since he's an artist, that was really bugging him.

Chase had to laugh. He had never seen Ethan so obvious before. This was a good idea. If nothing else, Grace was different. She didn't know him, number six on the most eligible bachelors list. Because he never told Megan, the mouth, he was confident Grace didn't know Ethan had money and lots of it. Megan knew he did alright, but she didn't know he topped even their parents financially.

Once Megan appeared, she refused to eat fattening pancakes for breakfast though she had agreed they sounded good. She smelled them, actually holding one to her nose, then instead had a slice of toast and a glass of water.

Grace shook her head.
What had happened to the Megan who binged on junk food after cheerleading practice?
She looked at Megan, who looked too skinny, but she knew how wound up she was about the wedding. Grace then looked at her own plate, over half eaten. She felt like a pig. At least she didn't eat it all, except the cookies.
Take that, Ethan
.

* * * *

When they finished breakfast, the four made the short walk down the street to the Beaufort Historic Association. Chase walked slow and lazy compared to Megan, who took three steps to his every one. Of course, it seemed like she was moving fast, but because of the heels and the skirt, her stride only went so far. Grace walked behind them with Ethan, who paced his stride to match hers. It felt weird walking next to him, like they were a couple.

"Come on,” Megan shouted as she climbed the stairs at the back of the old bus. “We'll have to sit downstairs if you don't hurry."

Grace watched as Chase followed the diva up the stairs. Megan had on heels that made Grace cringe just watching her climb the narrow stairs. Flip-flops were a staple in a woman's wardrobe around here. Grace looked down at her own feet. Her toes were painted a bright pink. That should be diva enough.

"After you.” Ethan gave a gentlemanly bow. Grace rarely said anything to him. She talked to Chase and Megan freely but never directly to him for more than a second.

"Oh, thanks.” Grace headed up the stairs. When she took this ride with Mitchell, he jumped on right in front of her and his visiting relatives.
What did I see in that loser?

There was only one seat left up top, the last seat in the left row. As Grace slid across, she felt Ethan squeeze right in beside her. His masculine frame took up most of the room. Their legs touched. It must be really hot out right now, Grace noticed. The feel of Ethan's leg next to hers was like fire.

"I haven't thanked you.” Ethan interrupted her thoughts. He had to say something since this woman barely spoke. He was a gentleman and let her climb the stairs ahead of him, but that only provided a nice view of her lush behind. It was all he could do not to bite it.

"For what?” Grace peered at her cousin canoodling and giggling already.
Why does she get everything?
The jealousy monster was growing.
Sew me into a bridal dress, who does that?

"Yesterday.” Ethan finally sat back in the seat and tried to relax, letting the weight of his leg press into hers. She was soft but strong. Her leg didn't budge one bit.

Grace remained silent, still focused on Megan and Chase. His leg pressed into her. The tight space had them almost touching everywhere, so she held her leg firm to keep him from getting closer. Her heart was thumping. Despite the heat, she could feel her nipples drawing tight. How did he do that?

Okay, you want more apologies.
“I'm sorry for the inconvenience, for taking over your room. Sorry about the grumpy guy last night.” He had just apologized to this woman in one sentence more than he had to any other in his life.
Get a grip. She'll come around. I'm irresistible. Every woman has told me that.

"I ... it's fine really.” Grace held the metal bar in front of her like she was going on a roller coaster ride rather than a leisurely tour about her own town.

Her mind was filling with thoughts, thoughts about the wedding. She would have to go alone. Megan wanted her to be friendly and go with Ethan. God, her senses were swimming in Ethan. If she could stay mad at Megan, she wouldn't notice how good he smelled. Maybe she wouldn't pay attention to how his voice vibrated through her ears and set her toes a tingling.

Stay focused on anything but him, Gracie. You can do it. Remember what Evelyn told you. Find your center and breathe.
Grace drew in a slow breath and held it then exhaled nice and slow.

"I moved everything over to the room directly across the hall. That's where Megan said to go.” He took a breath.

Talking to this woman is like pulling teeth, painful.
“I left my stuff in your bathroom since there are four of us and only two showers. I hope you don't mind."

Now what?
Ethan was out of things to say. He never had to make conversation before, never really had to get to know anyone, even with his ex-fiancé Emma. Emma did most of the talking; he just listened. Grace had a sweet voice, so he didn't mind hearing it.

"Not at all.” She swallowed hard. The pleasantries were killing her. The heat was killing her. She could swear it was supposed to be mild this afternoon with the rain moving in later, yet it seemed to get hotter by the minute. Ethan, he talked more than any man she had ever met in her life. Mitchell only talked about himself, but more often than not she was content not talking to him. Ethan seemed relentless in his pursuit of conversation.

"Are you afraid of heights?” This woman was making him crazy. Usually he can't get a woman to stop talking. Now, he's being shut down by the ice princess.

"I'm sorry?” She could feel his eyes burning more heat into the side of her face, so she turned and fell into those deep brown pools of chocolate. They were dancing with light as he squinted from the sun, causing little lines at the corners. She was drowning in a sea of chocolate. Death by chocolate, is there any other way to go?

"You're holding on to that bar like you may fall out of the seat.” His gaze didn't waiver. Her eyes were spinning with colors making him insane.

Her white knuckles were showing. He began to think maybe she was afraid of something. Maybe even him. No, he wouldn't believe that. He was gruff last night, but he was a nice guy. He was pretty sure he was anyway. “I can't say for sure, but I don't think we're going to exceed five miles an hour in this thing."

"Oh, I just.” She let go and nervously played with her purse strap.
Damn that smile. Ouch that hand.
“I ugh..."

She was interrupted by the tour guide's voice coming over the speaker.
Thank you.

Damn.
Ethan wished they had sat there a moment longer. She was about to talk, and he liked her voice. It was soft except when she was angry; then, it was stronger, demanding. He wondered how it would sound in the bedroom.
Would she be soft and timid or demanding and in control?

The bus started up with a loud rumble. All the passengers gave the guide their full attention. It was packed up top and more than half full on the bottom. The Red Hat Society had planned an outing on this day. Ladies wearing red and purple were everywhere. The guide knew Grace's mother. Of course, she also knew Mitchell's. So, by nightfall everyone would know Grace had a new man in her life, even if she didn't really.

The frustration gave way to a real thought. Everyone would see her with Ethan. They would think they were a couple, and the Patterson's would hear for sure. Mitchell's mother would have a fit, cow that she is. Grace took a deep breath. She felt relaxed and comfortable. Why shouldn't she? This is her home town, not his. She turned to Ethan, who was trying to see the house on the opposite side of the bus that the guide was talking about.

His shoulders were like mountains; muscles ripped beneath the T-shirt, and Grace had to grip the strap on her purse to keep from touching them. She had never met a man she wanted to touch so badly. The contact of his leg still pressing into her made her want to grab his thigh, too. She shook her head trying to shake those thoughts away, but it didn't work.

"You know, we should go out for dinner tonight,” she said confidently.
Out where everyone can see us together.

He turned immediately.
The ice princess is melting?

"What do you think?” She watched the light bounce around his eyes. Her gaze dropped to those kissable lips. She couldn't help but to lick her own.

"This is my vacation. I'm up for anything.” Ethan noticed the soft pink tongue slide across her lips, which looked delicious, glossy, and he wanted to taste them, too. “What did you have in mind?"

"Local fare, I'll let Megan choose since she hasn't been home in awhile.” That seemed fair.

"Actually.” Ethan had explored this town at six this morning when he snuck out for a jog. “I think the Net House looks good."

"How would you know?” Grace could feel that eyebrow raise her forehead again.
Suspect. The man was definitely suspect.

They shared a quiet moment.

Before he could answer, the guide's voice focused attention on the next spot, the graveyard. Appropriately the moment ended. Ethan seemed genuinely interested in the tales of the soldier buried standing up and the little girl in the rum keg. Grace had heard the tales so much she knew them by heart.

"That's heavy,” he said as the bus began to move again.

Grace simply nodded.

Ethan liked the little town. It was quiet and full of older people as far as he could tell. Her neighbors were on the porch when he started out for his jog almost scaring him to death when they said hello. He looked around again taking it all in, trying to focus on anything but Grace. He was spending too much time and effort on this woman, yet the feel of her leg beside his, the smell of her hair drifting over him with each slight breeze pulled at him.

They sat in silence for the rest of the tour. The only thing Grace thought of was his leg, the fabric of the cargo shorts, and the muscle that flexed beneath them periodically.

Once the big red bus pulled back in front of the Historic Association, the red hat ladies began to exit. Ethan didn't budge.

"My, my,” one woman said as she glanced at Ethan and exited.

"Well, Grace McPherson is that you behind this, fine young thing of a man?” Mrs. Mary Beth Jane, head of the society and principle at the elementary school stopped in the aisle holding up her crew of ladies and a couple tourists.

"Hi, Mary Beth. This is Ethan, a friend of mine.” The woman had three first names. Surely, she knew a man named Jane would cause her to have three first names. Grace looked toward Megan and Chase. Megan was pointing and mouthing ha-ha at her. “And you remember my cousin, Megan.” She pointed at Megan, and everyone turned, even the tourists. “That's her fiancé, Chase. They're all in from New York to visit."

"Well, that explains why we never saw this handsome devil before.” She winked at Ethan, who just smiled and bowed his head. “You have fun this summer, Grace. I hope to read that book when you get back from vacation, ya hear?"

Mary Beth Jane gave Ethan the once over and patted him on the shoulder as she walked away. “Oh, to be young again.” Her voice trailed.

Grace just sat there in disbelief.
He really does have some kind of power over women. No, it must be the heat.

The red hat ladies filed down the isle and said their hellos and goodbyes. Grace was embarrassed by all the winks and eyebrow lifts the ladies not so discreetly shared. A few actually touched him, brushed against his shoulder or arm as they passed. It was insane. Ethan just smiled and waved like he knew them, not fazed in the least.

If there were any chance of this being a quiet week, a chance to meet her cousin's fiancé and his family, that was now over. This would be the talk of the whole town. Ethan would be the talk of the whole town. Though it wasn't true, they would assume he was with her. That brought a huge smile to her face.

Grace stood on the sidewalk next to Ethan, smiling as wide as the day was long. Chase helped Megan down from the bus. How she got around in those shoes just boggled Grace's mind. Then, a thought came, Megan would probably have her bridesmaids in stilettos as well. Her toes curled in pain.

"Is that an art gallery?” Ethan asked as he began walking away from them toward the building. He hadn't noticed the building early this morning, but sure enough it was a little gallery. Tucked right behind the Historic Association in what was once a house. He needed a distraction from Grace, and art would definitely do it.

"Yeah,” Grace's voice trailed off as she watched him walk away. “So."

He looked just as good from the back as he did from the front. His brown hair was short with longer layers on top that seemed to stick out in different directions.

It wasn't a purposeful mess. Instead, it looked like he just rolled out of bed. That thought sent the image of him in her bed through her mind again. Damn if she didn't like that view.

"We'll never get him out of there.” Chase headed for the inside of the Historic Association. “Let's see what else we can do."

Grace was again the third wheel in Megan's life. She trudged on behind her cousin and Chase. She could have followed Ethan, but she needed a chance to breathe and regain her focus. She could always find her center around any other man, yet anytime she concentrated too hard, he just invaded her thoughts.

They stood in front of the brochure rack, and Chase sorted through what he thought would be good for the rest of the day. Grace could have told him, but she wanted him to see for himself. They were guests after all.

Once outside they headed for the grounds tour.

Chase had the map in hand though both Grace and Megan could have walked it blindfolded. Ethan caught up with them and hip bumped Grace almost knocking her over. He smiled and stuck his tongue out at her. She was startled, and a jolt of lightning hit her in the groin. He wasn't chasing women away; no, he was electrifying them. She had to ignore it.

"Hey, why didn't you follow me?” Ethan was surprised to realize she wasn't right behind him. First, she ran away. Then, she didn't talk to him. Now, she didn't follow him. If he had a confidence problem, Grace would have taken a good chunk out of his ego. Good thing he didn't.

Grace bumped him back sending him a staggering pace or two. He was awfully playful for a man, who was supposed to be throwing thunder and lightning to rid women from his life. He felt like an old friend, comfortable and fun, but she never wondered what old friends looked like naked. From the second she saw Ethan, that was all she wondered.

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