Serendipity (2 page)

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Authors: Carly Phillips

BOOK: Serendipity
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She shifted on her high-heeled sandals.
Uncomfortable or restless to leave? Ethan chose the former. He'd like to think he'd gotten to her—the same way she'd gotten to him. Inside his skin just as she had way back when.
She flipped her glasses back onto her face. “Okay, I think we're finished reminiscing. You go home to your place.” She gestured up the hill. “I'll go back to mine.”
“And where would that be?” All he knew of her family now was that her father was in jail, and her mother lived on the other side of town, a comedown for a woman with her attitude and former wealth.
He hadn't known the princess was back here at all. Apparently Rosalita had chosen to omit that bit of information.
“I'm renting a place over Joe's on Main.” She tossed her hair in a way that indicated her new digs were no big deal.
He knew better. Joe's was the local bar where guys like Ethan used to hang out. But he knew not to pity her. “Interesting,” he said instead.
“What is?” She pursed her glossed lips.
Definitely not a deliberate move but seductive nonetheless, and he longed for a hot, wet taste. Wondered what might have been if she'd given in to temptation all those years ago.
But this was now and her question still hovered between them. “It's interesting how the mighty have fallen.”
No pity, just truthfulness,
he thought and held her gaze, not backing down.
She raised her chin a notch. “Like I said, you don't know me at all.”
“Then fill me in.”
She exhaled a puff of air and paused. Probably trying to decide how much to reveal, a feeling he understood too well.
“I came back for a fresh start,” she said at last. “I'll be opening an interior design business in town. What about you?”
He shrugged. Easy enough question. “I own a weapons software development company.”
Her mouth opened then closed again.
“Nope, didn't end up in jail after all,” he said, catching the shock that had registered on her face.
“I didn't think—”
He folded his arms across his chest. “Yeah, you did.”
The first hint of a smile pulled at her lips. “Okay, so maybe I would have thought that, but you buying this house gave me a clue you'd turned things around.”
A hint of admiration touched her voice, and though he appreciated the sentiment, he didn't deserve it. He'd still screwed up a lot of people's lives. But recent years had been better. He'd gone to college on the army's dime and put his affinity for computer simulation gaming to good use. After two tours of duty overseas, he'd ended up working at a military base stateside in the management information system department doing software-related work and dabbling in his own development work on the side.
On graduation, he'd taken a job with Lockheed but had chafed under their restrictions. He turned independent contractor, picked up a few contracts that enabled him to support himself, and within a few years he'd perfected a system that revolutionized the capabilities of the country's next proposed fleet of military jets. He sold his system to the government, netting him a small fortune and enabling him to buy her old house.
None of which she'd care about. “And what were you doing
here
?” he asked, moving the subject away from himself.
They both knew he meant the land, the property, and specifically, her old home.
She swallowed hard. He had no doubt the subject was a painful one. “I came to look,” she admitted. “To remember.”
He nodded, understanding. Her family's fall from grace couldn't be easy for her, yet she'd come back.
Maybe they had common ground after all, he thought, finding a more than grudging respect for this woman and her strength. She was right. He hadn't known her then. Didn't know her now either, but suddenly he wouldn't mind rectifying that fact. If he had the time or energy to invest in someone who wasn't family-related.
He didn't.
“Look, I really need to get going,” she said. “The heat's killing me. I only meant to take a short walk through town. Next thing I knew I ended up here.”
As if on cue at the mention of the sweltering weather, he caught the bead of sweat trickling down her throat, her chest, disappearing between swells of her breasts, visible beneath the silk top she wore under her jacket.
He swallowed a groan. She was dangerous, all right. But he couldn't let her walk back in those ridiculous shoes, and she'd overheat in the damned clothes. “Come on. I'll give you a ride back to town.”
She shook her head. “I appreciate it, but—”
“It's hot as hell and I'd bet my last dollar your feet are killing you. So come on.” He waited a deliberate beat. “Unless you're afraid to be alone with me, princess?”
Her breath caught in her throat and a slow but knowing smile tilted her lips. “You know I'm not.”
That quickly, they were back ten years and he was daring her to climb on his bike. And she had. She'd been afraid of him and he knew it, but she'd accepted the challenge and he'd never felt anything like it.
He wanted to experience that same rush again. Wanted to feel her arms wrapped around him, her body pressed against his, trusting him to keep her safe. But most of all he wanted to feel her fingernails digging into his skin—and not because they were riding a motorcycle. He remembered thinking that if the bike had gotten her that worked up, he could only imagine what she'd be like during sex. He'd wondered if she'd scream when he pounded into her and made her come. Hell, he'd been so hard for her on the ride, he'd barely been able to see straight to drive. He'd tried to ease the ache she'd caused. And of course she'd turned him down for
that
.
He couldn't deny she affected him still.
He turned toward the car before she could notice. “Come on and I'll drive you home.”
“One question first.”
He gritted his teeth and glanced over his shoulder. “What?”
“Do you even remember my name? Or am I still just that spoiled princess to you?”
Oh, he remembered. He just liked “princess” better. But from the determined look on her face, his answer mattered.
As if he'd forget. He'd taken a philosophy class his senior year in high school. The perky cheerleader had also been in that class, one of the few sophomores there. They'd been given an assignment to explore the meaning behind their names. For once, he hadn't cut class and he'd been there the day she'd had to discuss hers.
Her
name had everything to do with unquestioning belief and complete trust. Something that no one had ever had in him. Ironically, he couldn't remember what the hell his name meant, but he recalled hers.
“Well?” She tapped her foot impatiently.
He shook his head and let out a groan. “Get in the car . . . Faith.”
Faith Harrington bit down on the inside of her cheek. So Ethan remembered her name. Damn it. She had been looking for an excuse not to take the ride. Any reason to avoid being in an enclosed space with a man who was too sexy for words. If his bad-boy persona had awed her as a teen, this new-and-improved adult version—too long jet black hair and all—took her breath away. Not that she'd let him know. Faith was finished letting any man have the upper hand.
But she'd take the ride. Her feet ached in her heels and were probably swollen from her unexpected walk. She'd avoided her childhood home since her return to town a few weeks ago, but she'd been drawn back today. For what, she didn't know. Maybe she thought she'd try to see how she'd missed the signs that the father she'd adored had been another person entirely? A Bernie Madoff in disguise. He'd bankrupted the rich and the working class alike.
He'd duped everyone he came into contact with. Including his daughter.
His betrayal had ripped a hole in Faith's heart the size of New York State—then her ex-husband had driven a Mack truck right through it, destroying everything that was left. She was free now and had been for the last six months, from her father whom she'd disowned and from Carter Moreland whom she'd divorced. She wanted nothing to do with either one. Instead, she'd returned home to figure out who in the world Faith Harrington really was.
She blinked into the afternoon sun. Ethan still waited, reminding her that apparently she was a woman who found the onetime rebel an extremely sexy, desirable man.
Uh-oh.
She lifted her chin a notch and strode past him, heading for the car. He beat her there, opening the passenger door for her to get inside. She made the mistake of glancing into his heated gaze, disarmed by the banked desire she saw there, and blinked in shock.
“Don't look so surprised,” he said, misunderstanding her reaction. “I picked up some manners since you saw me last.”
She couldn't help but smile. “As I recall you had good manners back then too.” When he'd taken her home, he'd helped her off the back of the bike, ignoring her mother's disdainful glare.
Ethan shook his head. “I'm sure my mother would have been happy to hear that,” he said wryly.
But she caught the hint of sadness in his tone and she couldn't let the moment pass. “I'm sorry about what happened to your parents. It was an awful tragedy and a senseless accident.” One that had rocked the entire town.
Until today, she hadn't known what had happened to the oldest brother. She couldn't deny she was glad to see he was back and in one piece. Even if he was now the owner of her childhood home.
“Thank you.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “But they shouldn't have been on the road that night at all.” He shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. “You getting in?” he asked, annoyance in his tone as he gestured inside.
She recognized a subject change when she heard one and slipped into the sports car. The sleek black Jag with its deep red interior suited him. Big and imposing, dark and brooding, at the same time.
He slammed her door, walked around to the driver's side, and joined her, placing his sunglasses on his face and turning on the ignition. The air conditioner hit her full force and she let out an involuntary moan of relief. She didn't know what had possessed her to walk here on a scorching ninety-degree August day.
He raised his sunglasses for a brief moment, a knowing smile lifting his sexy lips. “Hot?” he asked.
She couldn't mistake the dual implication or the amusement in his rich brown eyes.
“Very,” she said, knowing her words were a distinct tease yet unable to control the banter that seemed to come too easily with him.
He shook his head, slid his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose, and pulled the car onto Main Street. He drove confidently with one hand on the wheel, the other on the stick. She couldn't tear her gaze from his big, strong hand cupping the shift.
“You can drop me off outside Cuppa Café,” she said in a voice she barely recognized. She pointed to the coffee shop on Main.
“Suit yourself.” He eased the car into the open spot in front of the store, idling the engine.
She turned to face him. “Thanks for the ride.”
He slid an arm over the back of her seat. “My pleasure, princess.”
“Not anymore,” she muttered under her breath. Because what he'd said earlier, about how the mighty have fallen? He was right. In more ways than he could possibly imagine.
“I guess I'll be seeing you around.” She reached for the door handle and climbed out of the car.
She headed into the coffee shop, needing space and air that didn't include Ethan's musky scent and the sensual awareness he inspired. Ten years ago, he'd tried to steal more than a kiss, making her desire things she'd had no business yearning for at sixteen. Making her want
him
in a way that surpassed anything in her previous experience. Little did he know that his kiss had meant everything to her—even as she'd known she'd been just another girl he'd tried to add to his list of conquests.
But that was then. Now she was an adult, fully aware of the meaning of her body's response to him. But she was also at a crossroads and would be better off focusing on figuring out who she was before she got involved with any man. Especially one who made her feel . . . so very much.
Two
Faith had one mantra in life that hadn't changed: The perfect latte made getting through any day easier. Today, however, she ordered it frozen, grateful the person behind the counter wasn't someone she knew or recognized. She needed to cool down not just from the warm temperature outside but from the heat inside her body too, courtesy of Ethan.
She was glad not to have to deal with one of the many variations of greeting she'd received since moving back to Serendipity: welcomed, scorned, hugged, or ridiculed, depending on how she'd known the person in her past life and whether or not her father had violated their trust in some way.
Faith picked up her frozen drink and settled into a small table in the back to wait for Kate Andrews, her best friend since kindergarten. Kate was the only person Faith had kept in touch with when she'd left for college, through her more isolated married days, till now. And Kate was the one person Faith trusted in a world that had proven unworthy.
Faith was halfway through her drink when Kate rushed in harried as usual but predictably upbeat and bubbly. “Sorry I'm late. I had a dentist appointment that ran longer than I planned.”
Faith laughed. “Your appointments always run over.” And Kate never learned to budget for extra time.
Kate grinned. “And you love me anyway.”
“You know I do.” Faith felt herself relax for the first time since her run-in with Ethan.

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