potential distractions and grumbled to myself. I was going soft.
I worked straight through until after five. The rest of the office had all but emptied out except for Caroline, who was sending some last-minute emails before heading home for the day. I wished her a goodnight and she stared at me like I was a crazy person as I made for the elevator.
I glanced over my shoulder after hitting the call button and frowned. “Is something wrong, Caroline?”
She shook her head. “No. No, not at all. It’s just… it’s five thirty, Miss Rouche.”
“I know.”
“Okay.”
Did I really have such a reputation that she was this surprised to see me leaving the office before seven?
Yikes.
After I left the office and got in my car, I had the intention of driving home, but that wasn’t where I ended up. I arrived outside Ethan’s apartment building and found a visitor parking space near the main lobby entrance. Someone was leaving and held the door open for me, so I took the chance to avoid calling up to his penthouse and ducked inside. I rode the elevator up to the top floor, and minutes later, I stood outside his door, wondering what the hell I was doing.
This wasn’t what professional colleagues did. I could have just sent him an email congratulating him on becoming an uncle. Or I could have texted him. Or just waited until he came back to work.
But no. I was here. On his doorstep. Like a crazy person.
Music was playing on the other side of the door, so I knew he was home. I couldn’t be sure but it sounded to me like Michael Bublé or Frank Sinatra—or something of the like. With a knot of nerves in my stomach, I knocked hard enough on the door that he’d hopefully hear me over the music.
Footsteps sounded on the other side of the door as he approached.
I stepped back.
The door swung inward. Music poured out and so did the smell of baked cheese, frying onions, and simmering meats. Ethan had a dish towel draped over one shoulder and he pulled it down to dry his hands as he looked me over with confusion in his eyes.
He hadn’t expected me to show up. Heck, I hadn’t expected me to show up.
“Hey,” I said, breaking the awkwardness first. “Jon told me Casey had her baby. Congratulations. You’re officially an uncle.”
Ethan grinned. I’d never seen him smile like that before. It stretched his entire face. His eyes crinkled and his cheeks turned rosy. “Thanks. He’s a cute little guy. Looks like his dad. That’s for sure. Casey feels rather betrayed that the baby she’s been brewing all this time comes out looking like Eli and not like her.”
“How is she?”
“Casey’s good,” Ethan said, bracing one shoulder against the door and tossing the towel over the other. “They go home—”
“Tomorrow. Jon told me.”
“Yeah. The nurses have been taking good care of them. I know Casey is eager to get out of there and go home so she can have a good night’s sleep, if that’s even possible with a newborn.”
I smiled. “Good. I’m glad everyone is okay. I, uh, I just wanted to check in and make sure things were good. I’ll get out of your hair. I’m sure you have a lot to do.”
“Actually, I could use some company.”
I peered past him into his place. The Christmas tree was on. The fire was lit. It was more than inviting, and so were Ethan’s warm eyes and charming smile. His invitation was genuine and I couldn’t deny that I wanted to spend some time with him after not seeing him for the past two days.
“I hope you have some wine,” I said as he held the door open for me. “It’s been a long couple of days at work, picking up your slack.”
He laughed and it filled my heart with unfamiliar warmth.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Chapter 28
Ethan
“Sorry for the mess,” I told Kathryn as she followed me into the kitchen. I gestured at the casserole dishes taking up every inch of space on my kitchen island. Rolls of tinfoil were set out beside them but I hadn’t bothered covering any of the dishes yet. I wanted them to cool off a bit before I trapped any moisture inside and froze them.
“Are you cooking for a small village?” Kathryn asked, peering down at the assortment of meals. “Shepherd’s pie, lasagna. Is this a chicken pot pie casserole?”
“It is.” I pulled two wine glasses down from