accident.” She dropped her gaze. “I was sick, and you brought over hot chicken soup.” At the mention of her late husband, Ethan stiffened. He tugged the hat from his head and ran his hands through his hair, trying to tame the waves. Something about the movement or the wary expression on his face chipped away at another piece of ice inside her.
This was just as hard for him, she realized. Maybe harder.
“Why are you here?” she asked, reaching for more grapes. Emily was suddenly ravenous.
“Don’t you have an appointment at three with your doctor?”
Surprised, she shoved a handful of grapes into her mouth, more to give herself time to think than anything.
“Well, yes, I did, but it’s been rescheduled for Monday. Doctor North was called in to the hospital. But it’s just a checkup, Ethan. I don’t need you there for that.”
His eyes darkened. “Don’t need or don’t want?” He walked toward her, his long legs eating up the distance between them in seconds.
She considered her reply for a few moments while putting away the rest of her groceries. Truthfully, she’d thought of nothing else since he’d shown up at her door the day before. When she finally had her head on straight, she turned back to him and leaned against the counter. On the outside, she appeared to be casual and in control. It was a gift cultivated over the past few years on account of her status of being an almost widow. But on the inside, she was a trembling mess of fear and indecision. She thought about Trudy and Leanne and realized she was most likely the focus of many conversations in Crystal Lake.
For someone who’d tried to be as private as possible (for the most part), that was a hard pill to swallow.
“We didn’t really talk about specifics yesterday, Ethan, and while I appreciate your acceptance of my situation—”
“Our situation,” he interrupted, moving closer so there were only a few inches between them. His scent teased her nostrils—woodsy and fresh—and she had to tip her head a bit in order to hold his gaze. The golden flecks in his dark eyes seemed to glitter, and stubble covered his square jaw, more than a few days’ worth, by the looks of it. He was so big and masculine and…hot as hell.
That thought surprised her, though truthfully, it shouldn’t. Ethan Caldwell had always had the kind of looks that would make any woman’s head turn. Coupled with the kind of sex appeal that would make them swoon, along with a healthy dose of unattainability that left them wanting more, he was a lethal combination. For as long as Emily could remember, there’d been a lineup of girls and later women ready to taste his secrets. Ready to be the one to finally tame the man no woman could catch.
He hadn’t been that for her. Heck, she’d told him things she never shared with her husband or anyone else for that matter. She’d never thought of him as anything other than her best friend.
Until he wasn’t.
Until that night she’d practically thrown herself at him because she was so sad and broken, she couldn’t see straight. The night she ruined everything.
“Em?” The sound of her name on his tongue brought her back to reality, and she cleared her throat and exhaled slowly.
“Our situation,” she repeated softly.
He inched closer. “I told you we’re in this together, and I’m sorry as hell you ever felt like we weren’t.”
He looked so serious and intense that in that moment, it was too much. It pressed into Emily, a hard, physical thing that made it tough to breathe. He was too close to her. He smelled too damn good.
Inappropriate, she thought. Okay, those were the pregnancy hormones talking. She and Ethan weren’t a thing, and they’d never be a thing. What happened in the summer was something else altogether. He’d reacted to a woman who’d offered herself to him. A woman who’d practically begged him for sex because she’d needed some kind of connection. Because she’d been drowning.
What man wouldn’t take that?
Emily pushed past him because she needed air, but more importantly, she needed to think.
“I guess we need some kind of understanding or clarity. What is our situation, exactly?” Emily glanced at Ethan, who watched in silence from the kitchen where she’d left him.
“We’re having a kid,” he replied, a ghost of a smile touching the corner of his mouth. “Thought it was kind of self-explanatory.”
“Don’t be a smartass.” Annoyed, she swiped at