Exposed (Ethan Frost 3)
Page 68
“I hate to sound mercenary,” Sebastian adds, “but if he ends up crawling back in with one of them it will make it that much easier to hang them all later.”
“Even Aria’s father?”
/> He pauses then, thinks it over. “I guess, what it comes down to for me, is that these bastards made their own beds. Now it’s time for them to lie in them. And if that means they finally go to jail for what they did…it’s no more than they deserve.”
I think about Chloe, about all the other women Brandon has hurt or will hurt in the future if he isn’t stopped. About my original plan that called for him going to jail for a long, long time. “He deserves worse than jail. They all do.”
“I know. But seeing them stripped of their silk suits and fancy cars, seeing them locked in a cage they can’t get out of until someone lets them out…it’s enough. Right?”
“Yeah,” I tell him, still trying to get a grip on the fury that’s been raging inside me since I saw my brother last night. “It’s enough.”
Because I can’t change the past, can’t take away Chloe’s pain. All I can do is focus on making the future as good, and as safe, for her as I can.
It’s enough, I tell myself again as I hang up the phone a couple minutes later. It has to be. Because there’s no way Brandon is ever going to hurt my wife again.
Chapter 20
“What do you want for dinner?” I ask Ethan as we let ourselves into the house early Friday evening.
It’s a relief to be home. Between the looks I spent all afternoon dodging and the whispered conversations about Ethan and his brother that I did my best not to hear as the news spread, I’m more tense than I’ve been in years. All I want is to take my shoes off, have a glass of iced tea and spend one last, normal evening at home with my husband before all hell breaks loose.
Not that it hasn’t already started. When we left Frost Industries tonight, there were reporters stationed right outside the guard booth, just waiting for an opportunity to leap on Ethan and ask him about the statements he made yesterday about Brandon. He’d ignored them, kept the windows of the car firmly rolled up. But I have to admit I’d wished at least a couple times that I hadn’t been so insistent about driving home. Dodging reporters who seemed determined to throw themselves in front of my car was definitely not the easiest thing I’ve ever done.
“Doesn’t matter to me,” Ethan says, stripping off his suit jacket, vest and tie. “Do you want to go out?”
“Not even a little bit.”
I follow him to the bedroom, where I slip out of my suit and into a tank top and the comfiest pajama bottoms I own. Ethan does the same, except he changes into a pair of well-worn jeans and one of his softest T-shirts. It’s the same color as his eyes and for a second—even with everything that’s going on—I get caught up in how beautiful he is.
He catches me staring and a slow grin spreads across his lips as he pulls me into his arms for a long, lingering kiss that gets my blood humming. Yes, stress and fear are coiled in my stomach like a cobra waiting to strike, but when I’m in Ethan’s arms anything—everything—seems possible. Like somehow even this nightmare is going to be okay.
“Do you want me to run out and get something?” he asks, before leaning in for another kiss. “There’s a new Italian place just off the beach that I’ve been wanting to try.”
“What I want,” I tell him with my lips against his and my arms around his neck, “is for you to pour me a really big glass of iced tea. Then I want to cook dinner together and eat it while vegging out in front of a truly ridiculous movie. And then,” I continue, pressing a couple kisses to his jaw before moving on to the sensitive spot behind his ear, “I want you to take me out to the hot tub and make love to me under the stars.”
I lick my way down his throat, loving the sweet and salty taste of him. “Do you think you can make that happen?”
“I’ll give it my best shot,” he tells me, his hands sliding down to cup my ass, and pulls me against him.
He’s already hard and I move against him, deciding dinner—and everything else—can wait. Except just as I reach for the top button of his jeans, Ethan pulls away.
“Dinner,” he says, eyes smoldering and skin flushed from our kisses. “The lady wants dinner.”
“The lady wants a lot of things,” I answer, making grabby hands for him.
He laughs, drops another kiss on my mouth. “And, in time, she shall have them all.” He grabs my hand, pulls me pouting out of the room and down the hall to his state-of-the-art kitchen. “Why don’t you poke around, see what you can find? And I’ll get you that glass of iced tea. Unless you’d rather have wine?”
Wine sounds delicious, actually, but no. No wine. Just in case my sudden weak stomach is due to more than nerves and upset. Which, it probably isn’t, but still, until my period shows up…Better to be safe than sorry. “Iced tea is perfect. And so are you. I’m not sure what I ever did to deserve you.” I mean for it to come out sounding light and flirty, but I choke up on the last few words.
He stops in his tracks, sadness flashing in the depths of his glorious blue eyes. But then he seems to catch himself and it’s gone just as quickly as it came. “I have no idea,” he tells me. “But I’m more than happy to let you try to deserve me in the hot tub later.”
“Wow. That’s so very, very nice of you,” I respond, my tongue firmly in cheek.
“Yes, well, sacrifices must be made.”
“Sacrifices?” I grab a piece of paper towel off the roll, ball it up and throw it at him. “You jerk.”
He laughs as it hits him full-on in the face. “Hey, you’ve got a good aim. I never knew that about you.”