The Three-Week Arrangement (Chase Brothers) (8 page)

Another piece fell into place. “I guess that explains why your house doesn’t look lived in.”

“I’m a
minimalist by nature, but that’s probably not much of a coincidence.” She grinned, and the spark was back. “I do like the idea of having a home, but not having anything dragging me back.”

He frowned. “
Dragging
might be a bit harsh. The right guy will support your dreams. Lots of people travel for work.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want the ties. I want the freedom to run without having
to answer to anyone.”

“Maybe if you met someone, you’d change your mind.” He couldn’t imagine her never falling in love. She would probably love better than anyone he knew. There was something about that wild, reckless, plane-jumping side of her that, wound with passionate love, would be bigger than anything.

“It’s not my mind. It’s my heart. It wants what it wants, kind of like yours
does.”

Ouch
. He didn’t respond, and not just because she’d just performed a mic drop. Rather, he was still stuck on what kind of lover she’d be, and that wasn’t a place he needed to go. But still, he did. Playful, he decided. And wicked. That last part had his groin tightening.

She, thankfully, seemed oblivious.

“Logic can dictate the whole
the right guy changes everything
theory,
but logic can’t change me. And neither will any man, or anyone else. People can want things for you all day long, but that doesn’t make it right for you.” She reached over and lightly touched the back of his hand. “You should understand that better than anyone.”

“I do.” And he hated to admit it, because he felt her emptiness. And her warmth. And he hated that she never planned on sharing
that with anyone. Not wanting to feel that loss, he captured her fingers with his. When she gave him a hard look of surprise, he simply wound them tighter. And he didn’t let go until he had to pay for the cab. When he was done, he turned to find her watching him. No surprise there.

He followed her to the front door. “Why in the world do you take the bus when you have a car?”

“Parking
is torture near the shelter. In fact, my driveway is probably the closest spot.”

He laughed as she unlocked the door and let him in. “Help yourself to a drink or whatever you want. I need to get out of this shirt.”

He quirked an eyebrow.

“And into another one,” she said pointedly. “This one has a wet spot of undetermined origin, and I’m not taking any chances that it’s not drool.
I’ll grab my laptop and meet you back here in five.”

By the time she reappeared, he’d helped himself to a glass of water and snagged an iced coffee for her and was waiting for her on the sofa.

Her gaze landed on the coffee. “You’re officially the best date I’ve ever had. Thank you.”

He nodded, distracted. She’d changed from jeans to a pair of loose cotton shorts, and her T-shirt
had been replaced with a tank top. He wondered if she would have gone so casual for anyone, or just poor, eternally taken him.

She settled next to him on the sofa, so close their thighs touched, and flipped open her laptop. After logging in, she inserted her memory card and looked up at him. “I really couldn’t have done this without you. You’re a lifesaver.” She frowned. “And that was a
terribly unfortunate choice of words.”

“You’re allowed to mention life and death,” he said, wondering again just how often people did this dance around him. After so many years, were they still worried about saying the wrong thing? He was a grown man. He missed Amy, and he wasn’t ready to date, but he didn’t dissolve into tears every time someone alluded to life or death or cancer or marriage.
He hadn’t cried in
years
. Not because he didn’t miss her, but because loving her was a hell of a lot easier than mourning her.

“Sorry,” Rue said. She clicked open her folder. “I don’t typically tiptoe, but this is a new situation for me, and under the circumstances, I kind of don’t want to run you off.”

“Ah, yes, the charity gala. Whereupon I will be ruthlessly used.”

She sat
back, at which point he discovered they were shoulder to shoulder, and tipped her face toward his. “If I get to ruthlessly use you,” she said, “I’m going to need a moment with my razor.”

He
really
didn’t know how to reply to that, so he kept his mouth shut, instead watching her pull up photos on the computer.

“I have a process,” she explained, scooting forward once again. “Two pictures
at a time. Pick a favorite, then move on. When I run out of pictures of a particular subject, the last one standing makes the website.”

“Sounds easy enough,” he said. Only it really wasn’t. The first pictures were of the white cat with the turquoise feather on a sparkly hat, and he almost laughed out loud at the sight of them. The cat couldn’t have looked less amused, and the expression
was so perfectly in contrast with the fancy bench and hat that the full effect was nothing short of priceless. “I am amazed,” he said.

“At what? I showed you these at the shelter.”

“Better view now,” he said. “Also not holding the grumpy cat. I’m paying more attention.”

She narrowed laughing eyes. “Did you really just tell me that you weren’t paying attention before?”

“I just confessed to being distracted.” Something he wouldn’t admit now, even if he had taken more notice of her than he would have liked. Must have been the lack of pretense with her. She really didn’t seem to have an agenda with him, short of getting out of a date with Boyd, and he appreciated how utterly casual things were between them. With her lack of demands and expectations and well-meaning
concern, she allowed him to shed a layer of tension he hadn’t known he carried. She let him be
him
, and with a start, he realized he hadn’t been that way in a long damn time.

“Which one of these do you like best?” she asked.

He glanced at the screen. “There are three pictures. You broke your own rule of choosing from two at a time.”

She sat back, bringing the computer with her.
She propped it on her legs and tilted it, giving him a better view of the screen…not to mention a whole lot more body contact. “Which really begs the question of which is best,” she said.

“Middle one. She looks really pissed in that one.”

She tilted her head until it touched his shoulder. “Makes you want to run right in and bring her home, doesn’t it?”

“That reeks of sarcasm,
but the picture definitely shows a lot of personality. It’s an attention grabber.” So was the warmth of her sitting so comfortably next to him, her head now resting against his arm. He didn’t think the contact was intentional, or rather flirtatious. It was probably a typical-for-her friendly gesture that just didn’t normally twist men into knots. But nevertheless, there he sat. Knotted.

“I reek of nothing,” she said with good-natured defiance.

He took a breath of that crisp apple smell and flailed a little.

She tilted her head, away this time. “I see your point about the attitude. She looks so sweet until you land on that expression.” She dragged the image to a folder, then pulled up a few more. All of him and the somewhat terrifying creature known as Shaggy. “Now
this
is contrast.”

“I’m afraid to ask which side of it I’m on.”

“The dog is adorable,” she said without hesitation. “And you are stupidly hot.”

“Is that even a compliment?”

She didn’t look away from the computer. “Your eyes are insane,” she said, her attention fixated on the image that dominated her screen. “I bet if I posted that picture, people would accuse me of using
a filter.”

“I’m not sure what that means, but—”

“Changing the color. No one would believe they’re natural.”

He took the opening. “What about yours? Are they naturally that striking shade of blue?”

She turned to him then, presumably giving him every chance in the world to figure that one out for himself. But he completely failed to look for the telltale outline of a contact
lens. The connection was so intense that he dropped his gaze, finding himself in no better shape when he focused on her lips. He wondered for the hundredth time if they were as soft as they looked.

He was still wondering when her fingertips grazed his jaw. “Perfect hint of stubble,” she said. “Just enough to look rugged. Maybe even a little wild. But not like you’ve gone days without a brush
or running water.”

“This is a desired quality in a man?” Of course she’d like someone wild, and his stubble was probably the closest he’d ever get.

Her eyes danced. “Now who’s being sarcastic?”

“I wasn’t fishing for compliments,” he said to clarify.

“It’s enough of an injustice that you’re off the market. Not realizing the absolute and utter depth of your hotness is criminal.”

He rolled his eyes. “Then lock me up and throw away the key.”

“Can’t,” she said cheerfully. “I think you did that a long time ago.”

She started to turn away, back to the computer, but paused when he spoke. “You’re right,” he said.

“Ethan, I was just kidding.”

Maybe she was, but she was right. But at least now he was trying. Or at least pretending he was, but in the
process, he’d definitely crossed a few new bridges. Bridges that not only had him sitting next to her, but liking it.

Dangerous territory.

“I should go,” he said. “Early appointment tomorrow.”

She nodded, the questions in her eyes suggesting she didn’t quite buy his reason, but she didn’t argue. Nor did she try to stop him…at least not until he had his hand on her door knob.

Her fingertips landed on his arm, and he hesitated while a plethora of muddled, unrestrained emotions ran amok. Had to be the pure insanity of standing there next to a woman who was almost certainly in her pajamas. One who thought he was hot and who had the fullest, softest lips he’d ever seen. And while his mind wanted to throw in the familiar refrain of
except Amy’s,
he quashed it. Because
he really never had seen lips like Rue’s.

“You ever wonder what it would be like to be close to someone again?” she asked, damn near reading his mind, startling him. Her voice was a little soft. A little breathless.

He felt that way, too.

“I haven’t,” he replied. With that admission, he felt the spell between them snap. He mourned it. He
wanted
it.

But he couldn’t have
it.

He just wasn’t ready. And not for a woman who was leaving in less than three weeks.

Especially not with her.

He swallowed. “I should go.”

“You mentioned that.” She smiled sadly. “Thanks again for your help.”

“My pleasure.”

His words sounded more like an automatic response than a sincere declaration, but he meant them. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d
been so relaxed and happy and…carefree. It was a feeling he wanted to hold onto, and it came at the hands of a woman he couldn’t.

Hell if he knew what to think about that.

Chapter Seven

The next evening, after a long day of adjusting lights and fetching coffee for her boss, Rue wasn’t in the mood to go home. There was too much Ethan there. She would be crazy not to be attracted to the man, but she hadn’t any intention of hooking up with him. He wasn’t a hookup kind of guy. He was love and lifetimes, and she wasn’t interested in either one. And even
if she had been, it wouldn’t matter because he was in love with his wife. They both knew where they stood, so why in sweet heaven was she still thinking about him?

Just stop.

Easy enough. She was a grown woman who could handle an unrequited attraction to a sinfully hot man. She looked at her hand and remembered the gentle way he’d threaded her fingers, firming his grip when she looked
at him with questions. So many freaking questions, but none of them needed answers. Because even if he wanted more, she wasn’t the one to give to him.

She was leaving.

Case closed.

Only it wasn’t.

Rue pulled up the schedule on her phone. The gala was a week away—around the same time she should hear whether she’d gotten the internship. If she didn’t win, she’d book her own
flight. She was getting restless in New York. There was too much Ethan here, too.

An upcoming appointment caught her eye.
Planning meeting
. Absolutely fantastic. For a shot at talking to Mimi Von Adler about her calendar idea, she’d have to sit there with her mom, Boyd, and probably Ethan’s mom, as he’d said she was on the committee. Total firing squad situation, and she understood all too
well what it felt like trying to breathe under the weight of someone else’s expectations. Her mother had made sure of that.

She was playing with her phone, wondering if there was a way to get out of the meeting without giving up her calendar idea, when a call came in.
Abbie
.

Rue greeted her with, “Tell me you have great news on the adoption front.”

Abbie laughed. “Seriously?
It’s been less than a day.”

“And?”

“We’ve had interest in about half of them, and the phone is still ringing. Several people are coming in over the weekend.”

“Perfect,” Rue said.

“You did great work, as always. And speaking of perfect,
who
is that man you had with you?” Abbie sighed. Or, more accurately, she swooned so hard, Rue could actually hear it over the phone.

Rue got it. “I’m pretty sure he told you his name, and he really is taken.”

“And not by you?” Skeptical notes colored Abbie’s tone.

She studied a freshly discarded piece of gum on the sidewalk. So much for pushing down all that confusion and dredged emotion. “Nope, not mine. We’re just friends.”

“You weren’t looking at one another like you were just friends.”

“The fact
that he’s not available,” Rue said, “doesn’t make him any less gorgeous. The drool is legit.”

Abbie snorted loud enough to be heard over the din of traffic. “Maybe yours is, but what about his?”

Rue didn’t think she’d imagined the attraction arcing between them, but she had no idea it was obvious to anyone else. This knowledge kind of legitimized this thing between them…and bolstered
her denial. Because there could absolutely
not
be anything between them. He wasn’t available, and she’d been waiting her whole life to make her own dreams come true. Having them belittled as not good enough had only fanned the flames—not out of rebellion, but because what she wanted
mattered
. The more her mother pushed for Rue to find her so-called proper place in society, the more Rue realized
she’d never fit in her mother’s world. She’d waited a long time for the right time to quit her job and follow her passion. Now that she had the opportunity to turn what she loved into a full-fledged career, she was taking it. Even if by some miracle Ethan decided he was single, she’d need another miracle to walk away from him.

Because she would have to walk away from her plans, and miracles
just weren’t that easy to come by.

“There was no drool on him,” Rue said. “At least not human drool.”

“Um, no.” She could practically see Abbie’s head shake in disagreement. “If he was my man and I saw him looking at you like that, I’d be pissed.”

Rue bit her lip. Ethan’s wife’s death wasn’t her story to tell, but it wasn’t a secret, either. “He lost someone,” Rue said. “His
wife died. He’s not over her.”

“Oh.” Abbie’s tone instantly sobered. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too, but don’t tell him that. He’s a little tired of the pity, hence our acquaintance. He’s letting his family think he’s finally moving on, and to that end, we’re hanging out. In return, he’s taking me to the Von Adler gala to get Boyd off my back and to keep his family off his.”

“Well,
I think he’s more into you than that.” More skepticism.

And it filled Rue with misplaced hope. But she knew better, even if her bone-deep reaction to the man had run amok. “You came to this conclusion via facial expressions?”

“Yeah, that’s it.” Abbie let the odd answer hang there, and Rue’s silence didn’t draw any more out of her.

Which was fine. She didn’t need any more ideas
in her head. She needed a serious distraction. Maybe one involving alcohol. “Want to grab a drink tonight?”

“Can’t do it. I have a potential adoption after hours. I’ll be working late.” To most people, a long day probably wouldn’t be a good thing. But Abbie sounded elated.

“That’s fantastic.” Rue thought again about her calendar and the attention it could bring local shelters and suddenly
couldn’t wait to talk to Mimi Von Adler.

“And time consuming,” Abbie said. “Gotta go!”

Abbie ended the call before Rue could get a word in, leaving Rue standing on the sidewalk staring at her phone. But not for long. Almost immediately, a message popped up.

You busy tonight?

The text was from Ethan. Her heart did a terribly stupid jolt. She
needed
to be busy—at anything
that didn’t involve Ethan—but he’d really helped her out the night before and she owed him one. She kept her reply simple.
Nope
.

He wrote back immediately.

I’m ordering Chinese.

She wasn’t sure she owed him
that
, but he was reaching out. As much as she worried for her inability to avoid overheating around him, she couldn’t help but love that he actually wanted to spend time with
her.

If that includes eggrolls, I’m in.

You’ve got it.

I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.

She sent the text, and her face fell.
Stupid, stupid, stupid
. She was attracted to him. Keeping her distance would have been a whole lot smarter than going to his apartment, but she’d agreed to hang out with him. Maybe one of his brothers was there.
Or maybe not
. Maybe she should
ask. But instead, she stopped at the bakery down the street to grab a chocolate cake—because no one in their right mind actually considered a fortune cookie dessert—and headed to Ethan’s. He opened the door almost as soon as she knocked.

“Hey.” He offered an uncharacteristically lopsided grin, and she knew something was up. But the second she looked past him and saw his apartment, her suspicions
were forgotten. The last time she saw the place, the furniture had been covered and pushed to the middle of the room. Drop cloths had covered most of the surfaces, and what they hadn’t, she and Liam had taped up. Now the apartment was clean and bright, the blond hardwood floors gleaming and completely free of painting debris.

“This looks amazing,” she said.

“For a shoe box. My brother
bought a house outside of the city, and I’m pretty sure his closet is bigger.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s gorgeous.” She held up her package. “I brought cake.”

“Tell me it’s chocolate.”

“Of course it is. I saw you scarfing down the one your mother brought over here the other day.”

“I had to wrestle it away from Liam. I think he ate half.” He paused. “You caught that?”

She grinned. “I’m your pretend girlfriend. It’s my job to know those little things about you, and besides, you actually did wrestle Liam for the last piece. So, yes, I noticed.”

He leaned against the kitchen counter and kicked one foot over the other. She tried hard—so hard—not to appreciate the casual way his jeans fit. Or where they bulged. Or to remember how it had felt to lie on the floor
next to him while puppies attacked.

“What else do you know about me?” he asked. “I realized when you were here before that there’s a whole lot more to you than meets the eye. I can’t claim the same, unfortunately.”

She realized he’d stopped talking, and she dragged her attention from his jeans to his face to find he wore a coy, playful grin. Blatant lust rippled through her.

Great. Just great.

“I’ve never seen you drink anything but water,” she said.

“Coffee in the morning,” he said easily. “Water during the day, and the occasional beer at night. What else?”

She glanced around. “Clean freak.”

“Work all day. Live alone. Or I did.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You did what?”

“Live alone.” When she didn’t say anything, he tipped his head toward
his bedroom. “Want to see?”

Curious, she walked past him and opened the door. The first thing she saw was his bed. In the cool air conditioning and in its rumpled state, it looked deliciously inviting. Her imagination cruelly flashed an image of her falling into that bed with a certain green-eyed hottie…at least until she realized why the bed was rumpled.

“Shaggy!”

The dog jerked
awake, and her tail wagged harder and harder until she’d rattled herself to her feet. Without thinking, Rue sank onto the bed and gave the poor ugly mutt a big hug. “You adopted her?”

He grinned, and she melted. “She deserved a home,” he said, “and she can hang out in the office while I’m at work. She’ll get plenty of love.”

“You are seriously amazing.” Rue blinked back a whole army
of tears. She had a soft spot for Shaggy, but even she had to admit the poor thing was a bit terrifying to look at. Her chances of ever finding a home were pretty much zero. Or they had been.

Ethan shrugged. “She’s probably the lowest-maintenance dog ever. She has about fifteen hairs on her body. It’s not like she’s going to shed everywhere.”

Rue fell back on the bed and hugged her
old friend. She kind of wished she could hug Ethan instead, but he was
Ethan
. Now officially the sweetest guy she knew, but he was hedging past off-limits and speeding full-tilt toward complicated.

And then he upped
that
by lying on the bed next to her. Granted, the dog was between them—this was
so
about Shaggy—but they were still horizontal. Where he slept. And of course it meant nothing
to him because the only zone he had was a friend zone, but he’d just done what had to be the most accidentally romantic thing ever. And
she
was the one he wanted to share that with.

Shaggy chose that moment to wriggle free of her contented heap and shuffle closer to Ethan.

Rue snorted and stretched to scratch under the dog’s chin. “I see she has her favorite.”

“I did bring her
home.”

As he spoke, Shaggy got up, gave them both plaintive looks, and jumped off the bed.

“Well then,” he said. “I stand corrected.”

“She loves you. She’d be crazy not to, and now you can honestly tell anyone who asks that you have another woman in your life.”

He rolled over to his side and faced her. “I think that’s my cue for a confession. I know you love her, and I
kind of hoped you’d want to stop in and see her between trips to the edges of the earth.”

“Ethan Chase, you are not
using
that dog.” She poked him in the abs, finding them terrifically hard, and barely had time to swoon before he grabbed the offending finger. And then he closed his hand around her smaller one, dragging warmth from every corner of her soul.

Common sense fled, and she
wanted harder than she’d ever wanted anything. Her belly flip-flopped as if she was twelve and her crush had just smiled at her. But hadn’t he?

“You’re wrong about two things,” he said. “One, I’m not using the dog. I’ll take the fringe benefits, should there be any, but she needed someone, and I’m beginning to realize I did, too.”

She mentally counted the inches between them. Maybe
fifteen, and no dog in the way. And holy hell, were his eyes ever bright against the muted gray comforter. Everything about the man was intense, from the hardness of his body—no need to go
there
—to the platinum streaks in his hair. His hands were rough, but he held her so tenderly that she knew some of her unshed tears were as much for him as they were for knowing Shaggy had a home. She ached
to know a man who cared so much had been so deeply devastated by life. That a love like his had been lost.

That she’d never, ever know anything like it.

But somehow just having him there, her hand in his, was enough. She could go have a dozen flings and never have this kind of intimacy.

She blinked back the resurging threat of tears. “What else am I wrong about?”

“I don’t
have another woman in my life.”

“Well, she’s a dog, but still—”

“I have two.”

“Ethan…”

He reached over with their joined hands and knuckled away an escaped tear. “Just don’t lose my number. Good friends are hard to find.”

Dammit, she wasn’t supposed to cry. But he’d adopted the ugly dog, and if that wasn’t reason enough, nothing was.

“I just wanted to let you
know,” he said in some deep, probably unintentionally sexy tone,” just in case you still felt guilty, that I’m glad you dragged me into this.”

She smiled. One that crawled straight out of her heart and beamed like one of those spotlights at a used car lot. “I’m glad I’m not torturing you, then.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t torture.”

She went to poke him again, only with their joined
hands as her weapon it was more of a punch to the gut. He folded to dodge the playful blow, obliterating those fifteen inches to about two. Close enough to see that his eyes were flecked with neon.