Hard to Resist

chapter TWELVE



ETHAN WHISTLED AS he swept the last of the dirt out of Kat’s future office. She hadn’t, for sure, said, yes, we’re moving in, but she’d said she wanted to talk about it. She was coming over after she finished work for the day, and he planned to show off his house to its best advantage. He’d moved his weight machine and some other junk out to the garage. He’d touched up the pale green paint, then scoured the windows and dusted the miniblinds.

It wasn’t the largest of the three bedrooms, but it was nice. She would get morning sun, diffused by the big pear tree outside.

He’d also cleaned the master bathroom—he was an expert now at scrubbing grout. His mom was a stickler for bathrooms so clean you could perform surgery in them, and he’d found most women felt the same.

Kat arrived at about four, looking so somber it scared Ethan.

“Hey, nothing can be that bad,” he said, taking the covered plate she’d brought in with her. “What’s this?” He peeked under the foil and saw the ugliest, lumpiest cookies in the world.

“I’m teaching the StrongGirls how to cook nutritious, cheap, quick food—something I’m a master at,” she said. “I believe good nutrition is so key to feeling good and having a clear mind. But then we did cookies, just for fun. They look horrid, but they taste pretty good.”

He tried one. “Mmm, not bad. Hey, let me show you your office. You’ll love it.”

“I already love it,” she said. “I love this house and the big kitchen, and the deck and the fireplace. You don’t have to sell me on how great this place is. I loved it the moment I saw it, that first day when I came to get Bashira from you.”

“So are you going to do it?” he asked point-blank, unable to stand the suspense anymore.

“Yes. This is the only sane choice.”

Ethan couldn’t contain himself. He grabbed her and swung her around until they were both dizzy and he finally got some laughter out of her.

“Ethan, put me down.”

“All right, but only if you stop frowning. It’s going to be all right. I know moving is a hassle, but you’ve got lots of help and support lined up. We’ll make it fun for you.”

“I know. But, Ethan, there’s something we need to discuss.”

“Plenty of time for discussing anything you want.” And he nuzzled her neck and kissed her ear.

She tried to duck away, but he held her fast. “No, you don’t. It’s time for us to celebrate. The whole time I was fixing up your home office, I kept picturing you in it. Now you’re here.”

“But, Ethan—”

He silenced her with a kiss, and then another kiss. And every time he stopped to take in a breath and she looked as if she were going to start talking again, he just kissed her with that much more determination. Knowing her, she wanted to discuss rent and how to share the utility costs, or who was going to be responsible for cleaning the kitchen. Whatever practical problems she had could just wait.

She burst into tears.

“Kat, are you… What’s wrong?”

“You wouldn’t let me tell you before,” she said.

“You’re right, I wouldn’t, but the delay was worth it, wasn’t it? Kat?” He grabbed a tissue from the table and gently blotted her tears. “I’m listening now.”

“After I tell you, you’re not going to want me to move in at all.”

“That’s ridiculous. You could confess you’re an ax murderer, and I’d still want you to move in. I’d rehabilitate you.”

She sighed, getting herself back under control. “Even if I need to break up with you?”

“What?” Ethan tugged his ear, as if he thought his hearing might be going.

Kat stepped back, putting some distance between them.

“I can’t let my boyfriend rescue me from an uncomfortable situation,” she said. “That goes directly against who I am and everything I stand for. If I move in here, it’s strictly as a housemate. I’ll move my things into that pretty green bedroom, and I want to pay you a fair and reasonable rent, just as if I were any person off the street—someone who’d answered an ad in the paper.”

“Kat, you don’t have to…”

“Yes, I do. If you don’t agree to those terms, I can’t move in.”

Ethan could not believe she was doing this. Everything was going so great. Why did she want to ruin it?

He’d been fantasizing about having Kat here every day. Fixing meals together. Talking things over. Putting Samantha to bed each night and watching movies.

Now she’d given him an untenable choice. Break up with her, or have her move far away.

“I don’t understand you, Kat,” he finally said. “I’ve never been so happy as these past couple of weeks, and you’ve seemed happy, too. Why do you want to spoil it?”

“I have been happy,” she agreed. “You’ve been fantastic with me and Samantha. But I can’t live with myself if I let you bail me out. Again. That’s just what I let Chuck do. Then I ended up married to him.”

He studied her, as if by staring at her he could figure her out. But she was still a puzzle to him. Her brain worked in mysterious, inexplicable ways.

“I’m not Chuck,” he said.

“I know. But maybe, deep down, I’m still that orphaned seventeen-year-old. And I want to be a grown-up.”

“So that’s it? We don’t even get to talk about this?” Ethan asked.

“I’ve done nothing but think about it since yesterday. I’ve explained my decision the best way I know how,” she said in that firm, implacable way of hers, and with a sinking feeling Ethan knew he wasn’t going to argue his way out of this one.

“I want you and Samantha to move in,” he said. “I want you to be safe and comfortable, and I want Sam to stay with you. So I’ll agree to your terms.”

“And you can’t try to change my mind.”

“Fine,” Ethan said tightly. “I won’t try to change your mind.”

“It’s not forever,” she said, trying to placate him. “This is a temporary solution. I will find a place of my own. I lost that apartment at White Cliffs because I got too complacent. But another will come along.”

Yeah, and meanwhile she could find someone else to fall in love with. He decided not to mention that possibility. Why put ideas into her head?

* * *

KAT HAD KNOWN it would be hard, but she’d had no idea how hard, to not be Ethan’s girlfriend. It started the day he helped her move in. She’d told him he didn’t need to, but of course he’d overridden her and done it anyway, which was good. She’d have broken her back trying to move Samantha’s bed.

He’d shown up in cut-off jeans and a paint-spattered T-shirt that molded itself to the muscles of his broad back in intriguing ways. She couldn’t stop staring at the way his biceps bunched up when he lifted something heavy. And he was the only man she’d ever known who got more attractive when he was hot and sweaty, instead of less so.

She, on the other hand, looked and felt about as sexy as someone’s discarded gym towel. But what did that matter? The last thing she wanted was to encourage Ethan’s attraction to her. Still, she didn’t have to encourage it. She saw it in his eyes. He kept to his word, saying and doing nothing the slightest bit flirtatious. He was polite and relatively pleasant, though she suspected that was mostly for Samantha’s sake.

Kat missed the flirting, the winks, the long, passionate gazes that had flashed so hot she was sure they’d set off her smoke detector. At least once every five minutes she questioned whether she’d made the right decision. Then she would tell herself that Ethan had become a habit, one she would have to break, at least temporarily.

Tony, Priscilla and Jasmine all helped with the move, too, and they couldn’t have been nicer. With so many helping hands, it was done quickly. But what really got to Kat was when Ethan, with Priscilla’s help, rigged a canopy of sorts over Samantha’s bed. They tacked lengths of pastel gauze to the ceiling, allowing it to drape and swoop and dangle in places, forming a curtain. It looked like something out of a sultan’s harem.

“It’s a princess bed!” Samantha and Jasmine exclaimed at the same time when they entered the room, and Kat could see the satisfaction Ethan took in Sam’s surprise and joy.

Jasmine helped Sam arrange her toys on her bookshelf, and when she saw how few dolls Sam had, she’d offered up one of her prized Barbies, which Samantha had graciously agreed to “borrow” until such time as she had more Barbies of her own.

Watching the girls interact with so much thoughtfulness and consideration made the lump in Kat’s throat grow bigger.

Priscilla helped Kat arrange her furniture. Hers was the smallest bedroom, but after sharing space with Samantha, it seemed luxurious.

“Mom,” Samantha said, standing in Kat’s doorway. “Can I go outside and play with Winnie? I put all my toys away and hung up my clothes.”

“You’ve been a very hard worker today,” Kat agreed. “You, too, Jasmine. So, yes, you may play outside, as long as you stay in the yard.”

Priscilla had a funny look on her face as the girls dashed away.

“Is something wrong?” Kat asked.

“Oh, no. It’s just—Samantha is so cute.”

“Thank you,” Kat said. “She’s a handful, but I couldn’t live without— Oh!” She realized she was bleeding, and Priscilla saw it, too. The blood was coming from a scrape on her arm. She didn’t remember hurting herself, but now that she saw the scrape, it started to smart.

“Oh, Kat, that looks nasty. Better let Ethan and me patch you up. We have finished two weeks of our eighteen months of paramedic training, after all.”

Kat laughed as she grabbed a handful of tissues to wipe away the blood. “Hmm, maybe I better talk to Tony.”

But she didn’t get the chance. Ethan took one look at her arm, sat her down at the kitchen table and fussed over her little scrape as if she’d severed a limb. Meanwhile, Priscilla and Tony made themselves scarce. Ethan washed the minor injury and put antibiotic ointment on it, touching her with professional detachment.

With every stroke of his fingers on her arm, she had to stifle a small gasp of pleasure. No pain now.

“I don’t know if I have a bandage big enough,” he said. “But if I don’t, maybe Tony has something next door.”

“Ethan, you’ve done enough, really. This isn’t your problem.”

The look on his face grew fierce. “Kat. Maybe we’re not a couple anymore. But I can’t automatically stop caring about you. Deal with it.”

* * *

“YOU GOTTA FIND another woman,” Tony insisted. They were on duty hosing down the engine—for once, they hadn’t been assigned to clean the bathroom.

Priscilla was also out in the front drive. She had a gas can and a lawn mower, and she was trying her best to figure out where the gas went. Captain Campeon had gotten tired of making Priscilla mop, since she did it so cheerfully no matter how bad she was at it. So he’d told her she had to mow the grass.

True to form, she wasn’t complaining, nor was she asking for help. But it was clear she’d never been within ten feet of a lawn mower.

“Tony, you leave Ethan alone,” she said as she stared at the lawn mower, scratching her head. She tipped it over to see if anything on the bottom looked promising. “He’s in love. Women aren’t interchangeable, like cars.”

“Who says?” Tony shot back.

Ethan focused on a spot of dirt, scrubbing it and then polishing it until he’d about polished a hole. He couldn’t join in the good-natured chatter. It hurt too much to talk about Kat, or even think about other women.

She’d been living in his house a week, and she’d been the ultimate thoughtful roommate. She’d paid her rent, contributed grocery money and done more than her share of the cleaning and cooking. She was quiet, and she made sure Samantha understood how to respect her new housemate’s belongings.

“But why torture yourself when you could move on?” Tony argued. “There’s a woman at Brady’s who’s dying for you to notice her.”

“Uh, no, thanks.” Ethan shivered at the thought. He knew the woman Tony was talking about. She had more tattoos than a sailor.

“He doesn’t need to move on,” said Priscilla. “He just has to wait her out. Kat thinks going platonic is the responsible thing to do. But she’ll regret it. She’ll change her mind.”

“How do you know that?” Ethan asked, pathetically eager for any scrap of hope.

“Because she’s in love with you. Any idiot can see that.”

Ethan’s chest tightened. “You think? Really?” Could that possibly be true? She sure didn’t act like it.

“It’s the way she looks at you when you’re not looking.” Priscilla finally settled on the oil cap and unscrewed it.

“No!” Tony and Ethan said together.

“What?”

“That’s where the oil goes,” Tony said. “Here’s the gas cap.” He unscrewed it for her.

“Oh, that thing?”

Funny, but Ethan had felt no compulsion at all to rescue Priscilla when she was having trouble. She just seemed so capable, so in control.

But Kat was one of the strongest, most capable women he’d ever known. Why, then, did he always want to take care of her? Yes, she’d been going through tough times since the fire, but she’d proved, over and over, that she could solve her own problems. If a lawn mower had baffled her, she’d have found the instruction manual or called a hardware store to get advice. She and Priscilla were alike in some ways—neither of them could bear the slightest hint that they were weaker or not as smart as a man.

But there was something so vulnerable about Kat. If someone hurt Priscilla, she had a rich family and a team of lawyers she could fall back on. If someone hurt Kat, she had no one—except him.

He was her knight in shining armor. And he liked it that way. It wasn’t going to change.

“I just want to make her happy,” Ethan said, almost to himself, returning to his task of drying water spots off the engine.

Priscilla abandoned her lawn mower, came over and put her arms around Ethan in a friendly hug. “Kat is the only one who can make Kat happy. But, Ethan, I have a question for you, and I think you should consider it.”

“Okay, what?”

“If Kat’s life wasn’t in such a mess, would you still be attracted? I mean, if she had lots of money and no problems and she lived in a nice house in North Dallas.”

Ethan looked down at Pris. “Yes, of course I’d feel the same.”

“Okay, what I’m saying is, you have a big heart and you like to help people. And maybe that’s the attraction here. Tony says every girl you’ve ever dated has been a rescue case.”

“I know.” After careful scrutiny of his past loves, he’d concluded that Tony was right. “But this is different.”

Their discussion had to end there, because just then the alarm sounded, and they dropped everything and ran for their turnout gear. And for the next hour, Ethan pushed all thoughts of Kat from his mind as he focused on finding the source of the smoke that a church full of people in swanky Kessler Park had suddenly started to smell during an afternoon lecture.

Tony found smoke coming out of a fluorescent light. He put out the smoldering fixture, which took all of fifteen seconds, but you’d have thought he’d rescued six people from a burning building, the way one of the church ladies was going on and on.

“That thing could have killed us,” the woman said, running one perfectly manicured nail up the sleeve of Tony’s coat. “I’m just in awe of what you fellas do every day. You’re so brave.”

“It’s just our job,” Tony said.

Ethan rolled his eyes and started checking the other light fixtures with a thermal imaging device, to make sure there was only one faulty one.

“My name’s Daralee Ingram,” the woman said.

“Antonio Veracruz,” Tony said, whipping off his helmet, and Ethan inwardly groaned. Tony had found himself a live one. In another ten minutes, he would be in love.

Ethan used to find it amusing the way his best friend could feel so intensely, so quickly about a woman he’d just met, then feel so down-in-the-dumps when the affair ended. Now, it didn’t seem so funny.

After the firefighters packed their gear and headed back to the station, Ethan couldn’t help but dwell on Priscilla’s question. Maybe he did enjoy being the rescuer just a little too much. Yes, it was noble to want to help those who were weaker. But when did a guy become too noble? Did he truly have Kat’s best interests at heart or was he trying to force her to depend on him, so she would need him?

When she’d announced she was moving to White Cliffs, he’d felt that something in their relationship had changed. Something was wrong. Now, he knew what it was. If she moved away on her own, it was proof she no longer needed him.

If she didn’t need him, would he still feel the same about her? He was pretty sure he would. But the more crucial question was, would she feel the same?