Secretly Smitten (40 page)

“I mean . . .” Casual. Indifferent. She shrugged, stuffing her hands in the back pockets of her overalls. “There’s a dinner at my mom’s tomorrow. We eat every Sunday.” She winced. “I mean we eat
together
every Sunday. There’ll be other people there too.” Mom’s finacé, Zoe’s boyfriend, Tess’s boyfriend . . . “So, you know, home-cooked food, if you’re interested. One o’clock. Corner of Oak and Vine. If you want.”

She tossed her hair over her shoulder the way she’d seen other women do. It flopped back in her face, covering her eyes. She swatted it away in time to see one of his brows disappear under his bangs.

“That sounds great.”

“So you’ll, uh, come?”

He backed away with a nod. “Sure. See you then. And thanks.”

Clare didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until Ethan was zooming down the drive on his bike.

CHAPTER SIX

T
hey sat outside on a covered porch facing the spacious backyard of Clare’s mom’s home. Anna, as he’d been asked to call her, seemed too young and energetic to have three grown daughters.

The men were friendly enough, including him in the conversation. They’d asked about his bike, then moved on to the Red Sox–Yankees game played the day before.

Ethan couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat at table with family and friends. He didn’t realize how much he’d missed the easy camaraderie, the give-and-take, the teasing.

He mostly watched and listened. That is, until Zoe pulled him in. He was just enjoying his first bite of crispy chicken, his guard down, when she struck.

“So, Ethan, tell us a little about yourself.”

He took his time with the chicken, wiped his mouth with the paper napkin. “Not much to tell. Just passing through, really. Clare helped me out with a job.”

He glanced her way, remembering how her cheeks had flushed when he’d arrived, when he’d seen the couples. He understood better than she realized the feeling of being an outsider.

“Have you worked at a nursery before?” Tess passed the beets.

“Not really. Clare’s a good teacher, though.” He nodded toward the yard, a shaded paradise, then smiled at Clare. “That has to be your handiwork out there.”

“It is.” Anna spooned out some homemade applesauce. “My yard would be a disaster without her.”

“All our yards would be,” Tess said.

“She’s talented,” Ethan said.

“Can you believe she found her niche while she was still in high school?” Anna asked. “Mr. Lewis hired her, and that was that. We should all be so blessed.”

Working at the nursery hardly skimmed the surface of Clare’s talents. Didn’t they see her flair for vision and design?

“Tell us about your family.” Zoe passed the basket of blueberry muffins to her boyfriend. “They must miss you, being on the road.”

He wondered if Clare had put her sister up to this. “My parents have passed, and I’m an only child.”

“I’m so sorry,” Tess said. “That must be hard.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“How long ago were you in the service?” Michael asked.

Ethan blinked at Anna’s fiancé. He hadn’t mentioned his time in the military.

“I passed you when you were unloading at the Maple Valley Inn,” Michael said. “Saw the tattoo.”

Clare’s brows shot up.

Ethan took a drink of tea. Swallowed. Wiped his mouth. “Six years.” He couldn’t think of the army without remembering Fletch, so he tried not to remember it at all.

Clare touched his arm. “Michael served in the marines.”

“He was a sergeant,” Anna added.

A look passed between Ethan and Michael. War came with a backpack full of burdens that weren’t as easily removed as the uniform. The man nodded. He understood.

Unfortunately, Zoe didn’t. She continued to pepper him with questions until the meal was finished. Somehow he got through it.

By the time the dishes were stacked in the sink, the other men had left. Anna shooed Ethan from the kitchen, refusing his offer to help.

“Well, thanks for the meal,” he said, turning toward the women.

“You’re welcome anytime,” Anna said.

“I should go too,” Clare said, grabbing her purse from the couch. “I need to let Dixie out.”

He hadn’t seen Clare’s truck in the drive. “Need a ride?”

Zoe laughed. “Yeah, right. Like she’d be caught dead on the back of that thing.”

Clare straightened to her full height. He could see the internal wrestling in her eyes. “Actually, that would be great. Thanks, Ethan.”

Tess’s mouth fell open. Anna blinked.

Ethan turned toward the door before they could see his smirk.

“I don’t believe it,” Zoe said.

“No way.”

“Maybe she’s running a fever again.”

“Now stop it, girls.”

If Clare heard them, she didn’t comment. She passed out hugs and followed him out the door.

Clare stopped at the curb, eyeing the motorcycle. Ethan grabbed the helmet and put it on her head, strapping her in, then straddled the bike. He pulled something, turned the key.

She frowned. It seemed bigger up close.

He pressed a button with his thumb.

Bigger and louder.

He turned toward her, raising his brows.

She bit her lip. What had she gotten herself into? “I—uh, don’t you need a helmet?” she yelled over the racket.

“It’s six blocks, Clare.”

Well, she knew that. She gave him a look.

He kicked up the stand, steadying it. The thing must weigh four hundred pounds, and he was balancing it between his thighs? They were going to go flying down the road with nary a restraint.

She glanced back at the house. Three heads peeked out the curtains. Why had she opened her big mouth?

“It’s not too late to chicken out, boss.”

“That’s so not going to happen.” She glanced back at the house and muttered, “Not with them watching.”

“Throw your leg over and hang on tight. That’s all there is to it.” He kicked something down.

“Uh-huh.”
Here
goes
nothing.
She clutched his shoulder and swung her leg over. The miniscule seat sat higher than his. She grabbed on to his shirt.

“Put your feet on the pegs and center your weight. Whatever you do, don’t be moving around back there.”

He didn’t have to tell her twice.

“Okay, here we go,” he said, then the bike surged forward.

Clare grabbed on tighter, squelching the scream that rose in her throat as they accelerated. The wind stung her eyes.
Please, God. If you let me live, I’ll never do this again.

Just when she thought it might be okay, they turned a corner. She leaned with him. A squeak escaped. A moment later the bike righted itself. She realized there were two more turns before she reached her house. Three if he turned into the drive.

Gravity clawed at her body as they turned again. She hung on tight. Forgot to breathe. And then they righted again.

A few short lifetimes later the bike slowed and he turned off the engine. Silence rang loudly in her ears.

She opened her eyes. Her face was pressed into his back, her arms wrapped around him, her purse practically in his lap. Her fists clenched against his stomach.

Ack! She let loose, peeled her body off him, snatched her purse. “Uh, sorry ’bout that.”

“Not bad. A little practice and you’ll get the hang of those turns.”

“I’m so not getting on this thing again.”

He smiled over his shoulder. “Why not? Gives you a different perspective on things, doesn’t it? Scenery looks different without a piece of glass in the way.”

“I kind of had my eyes closed.”

He laughed, a deep, throaty chuckle that warmed her insides. “You’re funny, Clare.”

Now that they weren’t speeding through time and space, she wished she could’ve seen the looks on her family’s faces as they’d darted away from the house. It almost would’ve been worth the ride. Almost.

“Ah, Clare? You going to dismount?”

“Oh. Oh, sorry.” She removed the helmet, set it behind her, and, not wanting to maul him again, swung her leg over without a handhold.

Her knees quivered, her legs buckled. “Whoopsy.”

He reached out to steady her, and she grabbed the lifeline.

“You’re shaking.”

She gave a breathy laugh. “Guess I am.”

He was off the bike, grasping her elbow.

She waved him off. “I’m fine.”

“Last time you said that, you hit the ground two seconds later.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I had the flu.”

“Don’t argue, woman.”

She rolled her eyes but let him walk her to the door. By the time they reached the porch, her legs were steady, though his touch made her arm hum with electricity.

“Thanks. I’ll be fine. Guess I’m not Harley chick material.”

“That was never in question.”

She deflated a little as she fished for her keys. A little excitement had her quaking in her shoes. But at least he’d come today—gotten her through that one awkward meal. Now she only had, say, about a thousand more to go.

“Thanks for the invite. It was nice to have a home-cooked meal.” To his credit, he said nothing about the odd combination of fried chicken, beets, applesauce, and muffins.

“Sorry about Zoe. She’s a little, uh, curious.”

“That’s one word for it.” His smile softened the words.

“You don’t talk much about yourself.”

He shrugged.

“Why not?”

Those brown eyes locked onto hers. Something passed between them, something indefinable. “What’s the point? Sharing leads to relationships, and relationships complicate things.”

“What kinds of things?”

Indecision flickered in his eyes as if weighing whether to answer. “I’m just passing through, you know.”

Clare saw something else flicker in his eyes. A longing? Just as quickly it was gone. Didn’t he have anyone in his life? A place to rest when he got tired of running?

“It must get lonely.”

“Sometimes.” His deep voice cut right through her.

She couldn’t imagine going from town to town. No family, no connections. Who did he talk to? Who did he confide in? No one, that she could see.

Dixie barked behind the door. Clare unlocked it and let her out. The dog accepted their greetings and dashed down the steps to sniff out the front yard.

For all Ethan’s talk about attachments, he seemed in no hurry to leave. Clare sank onto the top step and gestured toward the spot beside her.

He lowered his weight and his thigh brushed hers. She shifted away.

“Tell me about your ex-boyfriend.”

Clare frowned at him. He’d met Josh right here on her porch, but she hadn’t introduced him as her ex.

“My turn to interrogate,” he said. “Turnabout’s fair play.”

She tried for a flirtatious smile. “I suppose you’re right. But how did you know he was my ex?”