Her House Divided (Beach Haven Book 1) (10 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Ethan looked better in a tux than Randy ever had, Tara decided, gazing appreciatively at him.  His borrowed tuxedo accentuated his lean, athletic build, while the dark color and crisp white shirt played up his lingering summer tan and clear blue eyes.

From the expression on his face, she could tell that he liked what he was seeing as well.  Her friends at Jeffrey Leonard Salon had twisted her auburn hair up into a loose knot with just enough soft curls cascading down her back to conceal her scars, and she knew that the new teal dress emphasized her figure in a way that made her blush. 

“Tara—“  Ethan stopped and swallowed noisily.  “Tara, you look beautiful,” he managed.

“Thank you.  You look pretty nice yourself.”

“We 
could 
just stay home, you know,” he teased.  “I can think of all kinds of things to do right here at home with a gorgeous woman in a sexy dress.”

“Hmm.”  Tara pretended to think about it. “Do any of your ideas involve activities that would smear my make-up?”

“Oh, it’s getting smeared, all right, whether we stay or go,” he said. He pulled her close and planted a tiny kiss on the side of her neck.  “It’s just a matter of whether I start smearing it now, or later.”

Tara leaned into him, drinking in his clean masculine scent.  “The tickets . . . are . . . “

“The tickets are what?” 

His kisses on her neck were really making it difficult to hold onto her train of thought.  “The tickets are . . . in . . . my purse.”

“I see.  So we should get your purse?”

“Mmm. . . yes.  Definitely yes. “  Tara pushed him away.  “Melissa is going to kill us both if she finds out we didn’t go, after she spent all that time helping me find this dress.”

“Remind me to thank her on Monday,” Ethan said wryly.  He guided her out to the Expedition and helped her into the seat.

The Fall Ball was held at the Yacht Club at the local marina.  The building was only a few years old, obviously designed by someone with a love of the sea but very little actual knowledge of waterfront buildings.  It was an overdone, gaudy monstrosity burdened with cupolas and a Widow’s Walk, and an abundance of nautical decorations attached to every possible bit of trim.  There were anchors and fishing nets, wrapped around gigantic fake sand dollars and starfish.  Tiny white lights sparkled around each and every window and doorframe.

“Wow, that’s . . . really . . . something,” Ethan said, after helping Tara out of the Expedition and handing the key to a valet.  They both stood and stared at the building.  “I’ve never seen it up close before.”

“Awful, isn’t it?”  Tara asked under her breath.  “All that money and not an ounce of taste.”

“Is the inside like that, too?”

“Not quite as bad, but close.  It’s all anchors and swordfish on the walls.  Of course, I’ve only been here to help decorate for the Fall Ball, so I’ve always done my best to hide the tackiest seaworthy items behind pumpkins and hay bales.”

With a shake of his head, Ethan placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her through the doors.  She shivered at his touch.

The interior wasn’t as bad as she remembered, thanks to the abundance of sparkling white lights and orange and brown fabric strategically draped around the room.  The tables were set with a tasteful assortment of fall colors and simple centerpieces, with gleaming crystal and china reflecting the golden light of the dance floor.

Tara glanced from the dance floor to Ethan.  “I just realized that I never asked you if you can dance,” she said.

“Oh, I can dance.  Not very well, but I think I can manage to avoid your toes.  How about you?”

She loved dancing, but she had some concerns about how much of it her body could handle tonight, especially since this was also the first time she had attempted to wear heels since her accident.  But for tonight, she just wanted to feel like a normal woman on a date, not a woman recovering from a broken neck. 

“Tara?  Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him.  “I was just thinking about how much I hope they play slow songs.”

According to the embossed programs they had been handed at the door, the first hour of tonight’s event was the “Social Hour” with drinks and appetizers.  Tara recognized several clients and Ethan also recognized several of the locals. Between the champagne and conversation, the hour seemed to fly past, and they were both surprised when uniformed waiters ushered them into the next room for the dinner.

The first course was creamy seafood bisque, followed by stuffed flounder, roasted potatoes and delicately seasoned vegetables.  By the time the waiters cleared away their plates and brought slices of cheesecake drizzled with raspberry sauce, Tara felt as though her taste buds were ready to explode from sheer overstimulation.  “That was the best meal of my life,” she sighed. “I don’t think I have ever been so full!”

“I know a very good way to work off some of that meal,” Ethan murmured, leaning in close so that only she could hear him.

“You mean dancing?” she asked, batting her eyelashes innocently.

“Yeah . . . that’s what I meant.  Sure.”

It turned out that Ethan was actually an excellent dancer, moving effortlessly around the dance floor to every song, fast or slow.  Tara felt like Cinderella in his arms.

When the band took a break, they needed one as well, so she led him outside to a small deck that overlooked the marina.  It was early enough in the fall that most of the boats were still in their slips, and it was quiet enough on the deck to hear the gentle splashes of the water as the boats bobbed gently in the calm water.

“Beautiful,” Ethan breathed.

“The boats or the moon?”

“You.” He turned her to face him and brushed his hand along her cheek.   She looked up at him and discovered that she couldn’t move.  Not that she really wanted to; she couldn’t think of anywhere else she would rather be than right here in Ethan’s arms, listening to the Lake and feeling the gentle breeze brush across her skin.

He bent and kissed her then, gently at first and then more passionately.   She didn’t care about her hair or make-up any more. She pressed herself against him, overwhelmed by a sudden need to touch him, all of him.

Ethan slid his hands up under her dress, stopping in surprise when he touched to top of her thigh-high stockings.  He pulled away from the kiss and gave her a questioning look.

“I bought something for you, too,” she told him.

He smiled at her and ran his fingers around the clip and then allowed his hands to stray higher.  She caught her breath as his fingertips brushed the tiny triangle of fabric. 

He lifted her to the railing, slipping one arm around her waist to help her balance while his other hand worked around to her hip and hooked the strap of her panties.  A gentle tug and he had freed them enough to slide them down and off.

She wrapped her legs around him and tried to draw him closer.  His fingertips strayed back and touched her damp entrance, stroking her softly until she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning. “More,” she whispered.

Slowly, he pressed one finger inside, then withdrew it.  “You are so 
wet
,” he told her.  He used two fingers this time, caressing every part of her until her entire body fairy hummed with arousal.  Tara leaned against him and buried her face against his chest to smother her cries as she climaxed again and again, and then collapsed in his arms, gasping for air.  Suddenly, she giggled.

“What’s so funny?” he demanded.

“I was just thinking that I would have bought tickets to the Fall Ball years ago if I’d known it was like this.”

They both heard the startled gasp behind them and whirled at the same time, to see a uniformed waiter standing awkwardly in the door, with a cigarette in one hand and a lighter in the other.  Ethan turned his body to shield Tara.

“Please, excuse me,” the waiter stammered.  “I didn’t know anyone was – I didn’t mean to – I was just taking a smoke break.”  And with that, he disappeared back through the doorway, pulling it firmly closed behind him.

Tara clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter.  “Oh, that poor kid,” she giggled.  “That just may make him give up smoking!  Do you think knows what we were doing?”

“Um, well. . .”

“Oh, Lord!”  Her hands flew up to cover her face.  “Oh, I’m sure he’s in the kitchen by now, telling everyone about it!”

“Should we get out of here before word gets around?”

“Please.  I need a few minutes to pull myself back together,” she murmured.  “I am 
not
 walking through that room looking like this.”

“I’ll go have them pull the car around,” he said, kissing her again.  “I’ll be right back.”

Tara nodded.  When he had gone, she smoothed her dress and used the tiny mirror in her purse to fix her hair and smudged lipstick until she almost looked presentable again.    The dress was hopelessly wrinkled, and her cheeks were flushed, and only a fool wouldn’t realize what she and Ethan had been doing out here on the deck, but she didn’t care.  It had been a glorious night, and she couldn’t wait to be alone with him again at the Seashell.

She turned to greet Ethan when she heard the door open again, but the smile died on her lips when she saw who had just arrived.

Jacqueline.

Ethan’s ex-wife looked stunning, as usual.  Her pale pink sheath dress was a figure-hugging masterpiece of design, accompanied by glittering opal jewelry and a sleekly styled French Twist.  The red-lipped smile she gave Tara was triumphant.

“Oh, have I missed Ethan?” she asked.  “What a shame.  I had a message for him from our friend at the bank.”

“He’s gone to get the car.”

“Of course he has.  Well, maybe you could give him the message for me?  Be a dear and let him know that he’s been approved for his loan, won’t you?” 

“His loan?”

“Yes, dear.  The loan he applied for to buy out your half of the cottage.”  Jacqueline tutted sympathetically.  “You didn’t know about that, did you?”

Tara’s hand flew to her chest, as if to slow her suddenly racing heart.  “He didn’t – he wouldn’t—
why
?”

Jacqueline took her other hand between her own.  Somewhere, in the back of her stunned mind, Tara took note of the fact that the other woman’s hands felt as cold as her own.

“I’m sure he didn’t 
mean
 to betray you,” the blonde woman cooed.  “He’s just trying to take care of you.  He probably understands that you’ll never be able to take care of yourself again.  I think it’s perfectly sweet that he’s willing to risk so much just because of your weaknesses.”

Tara said nothing.

“May I be perfectly honest with you for a moment?”  Jacqueline went on, after a moment.  “Ethan is a nice man.  Too nice for his own good, really.  He’s only known you for a few weeks, and he’s already willing to go into debt and possibly lose his grandmother’s house, all because he feels sorry for you.  You think that you care for him, too, but Tara, if you really love him, why would you let him do that?”

“But I don’t –“

“Doesn’t he deserve better than a lifetime of looking after you?  Always dealing with pain, always running to doctors and struggling with physical therapy, always a 
burden
.  Don’t you love him enough to want a better future for him?”

“A burden.”

Jacqueline patted her hand one last time and turned to go.  “I can see I’ve given you something to think about,” she said smoothly.  “I’ll leave you to mull it over.  But you will be a dear and give him my message, won’t you?”

A burden
.  She was a burden.  Ethan felt obligated to take care of her.  He had put his entire financial future in jeopardy because of her.

The door opened again, and Ethan gave her a puzzled look.  “Are you all right?”  He asked.  “You look cold.”

“I’m not cold.  I just want to go home.”

Chapter Seventeen

“Tara, what happened while I was gone?”

“Just let me back inside.  I want to get out of here.”  Tara tried to step around him, but he sidestepped to block the door.

“Did someone say something to you?  Tara, please –“ Ethan thought back over the past few minutes, trying to figure out what he could have missed.  He had gone out front to make arrangements to have the Expedition brought around, and had stopped to chitchat with a few people on the way back, but he really hadn’t been gone all 
that
 long, had he? 

There had been one bad moment when he saw Jacqueline striding across the room toward him, but she had merely tossed him a triumphant grin and moved on without speaking.
  I should have known she’d be at an affair like this
, he thought.  
She’d never miss an opportunity to network.

Now, an icy dread settled in the pit of his stomach as he wondered about that look on his ex-wife’s face.  She was cold-hearted and greedy, he knew, but was she cruel enough to have said something to hurt Tara?

“Did Jacqueline come out here?”  he demanded.  “What did she say to you?”

Tara flinched, and the pain in her eyes hit him like a physical blow.  “She said your loan has been approved.   You have everything you need to buy out my half of the house.”

“Wait.  I can explain –“

“No, you don’t have to explain, Ethan.  I understand more than you think.”

“You can’t listen to her.  Don’t let her get inside your head with all of her lies!”

“Was she lying about the loan?” Tara demanded.

“Well, no, but –“

“So she was telling the truth?  You applied for a loan to buy out my half of the house?  Without asking me if that’s what I wanted?”

It seemed like a good idea at the time
, he wanted to shout.  “It’s not what it looks like,” he said instead. 

“Oh, really?  So tell me, 
when
 did you apply for the loan, Ethan?  Before we slept together, or after?”  She didn’t wait for an answer before shoving her way past him and storming back into the party.

Ethan followed her, dimly aware of the looks they were getting.  She was moving faster than he had thought her capable of, fast enough that he was having a hard time keeping up with her without breaking into a run.  With her mussed hair, wrinkled dress and flushed cheeks, she was getting a fair share of sympathetic glances while the looks cast his way were far more accusatory.

“Sir, let’s step into the next room.”  A large man in a dark suit stepped in front of Ethan, blocking his way.

“It’s all right, we came here together,” Ethan told him.

“And you’re leaving separately.”

“Tara!”  Ethan shouted.

“Don’t make a scene, Sir.”

Ethan peered around the big man, following Tara with his eyes.  She had made it to the exit, where she was speaking to a small cluster of people.  He couldn’t hear her voice, but she kept shaking her head.    Finally, an older woman detached herself from the crowd and made her way to Ethan and his self-appointed security guard.

“The young lady would like us to call her a cab,” the woman murmured when she reached them. “She says she doesn’t wish to call the police.”

“Police?  Oh, come on—“ 

The large man—whom Ethan finally realized really 
was
 part of Event Security – shook his head.  “Sir, please calm down.  I don’t want to call in the police, but I will do so if you continue to create a disturbance.  Your choice.”

Ethan considered his options.  He needed to explain things to Tara, but he also realized that she was in no mood to listen to anything he might say.  Fighting to follow her right now would only make the situation worse.  He would give her enough time to get home and cool off a little bit, and then they would be able to have a calm, rational discussion.

He held up his hands to show the security guard that he was backing down.   The man ushered him into the kitchen and offered him a cup of coffee.

“I’m not drunk,” Ethan assured him.  “I don’t need coffee.”

“I know.  But it’s a good way to make sure you stay here until she’s gone.”

Ethan acquiesced, choking down a cup of strong black coffee and then bolting for the door.  He debated stopping for flowers or some other kind of apology gift, but decided against it. 

But she wasn’t at the Seashell when he arrived there.  He waited.  
Maybe the taxi driver took the long way so he could jack up the fare. Maybe the bridge was open and they got stuck waiting in traffic.  Maybe . . . maybe she’s not coming back
.

* * *

By Monday morning, he had gone from apologetic to angry, although he couldn’t have answered if anyone had asked him whether he was angrier at Tara or at himself.  It didn’t help matters that Melissa gave him the silent treatment at school and Dan just shook his head sadly every time they passed in the hallways.  Even his buddy Sean seemed to take Tara’s side when Ethan told him what had happened.

“You’re an idiot,” Sean told him.

“Yeah, you’ve already said that.” 

“Some things need to be repeated.” 

Ethan sighed.  He had gone to Sean’s house to return the borrowed tuxedo, fully expecting to get sympathy from his old friend.  Instead, he was raking leaves and listening to the other man’s opinions. 

“If she would just let me explain—“

“Explain what?  That you listened to your manipulative, evil ex-wife and snuck around behind Tara’s back to trick her out of the only thing she owns?”

“I wasn’t trying to trick anybody!  I just didn’t want to lose the house to her creditors.  You’re supposed to be on my side here, Sean.

Sean shook his head.  “I’m sorry, Pal, but I can’t.  You’re an idiot. How did you think she would react?”

Ethan said nothing.  He held the bag open while Sean scooped up armloads of leaves. They worked in silence until the leaves had all been bagged up and tied off.

“So . . . what happens now?”  His friend asked as they dragged the bags to the curb.

“I have no idea.  I guess I have to find someone to draw up the sales agreement and finalize everything on the house.  Hey, no leaves to rake over there.   Just lots of wet sand to shovel.” 

“So you’re giving up on Tara?”

Ethan shrugged.  “What’s to give up?  It was a bad idea.  Grandma should never have asked me to share the house with a stranger.”

“’Share the house’.  Because that’s 
all
 Bea had in mind.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re still an idiot.”

“So you said.” 

Sean punched him lightly on the shoulder.  “You sure she was 
just
 a roommate?  You seemed pretty happy when you were with her.  I thought maybe—“

“You thought wrong.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I ask Tara out?”

Ethan tried to block the sudden mental pictures of his best friend with the curvy redhead.    
Of course I mind!
 His brain shouted but instead he merely shrugged.

Sean snorted.  “Call her, Idiot.” 

The radio attached to his belt let out a high pitched, two-tone beep.  Both men waited for the dispatcher’s voice:  “
Fully involved structure fire, 34987 Seventy-Second Street.  Residents still inside the home.”

Sean broke into a run toward his truck, already speaking into the radio as he went.  “Beach Haven One-oh-eight clear on the call. En route direct.”  He waved at Ethan as he roared out of the driveway, flipping on the lights and siren on his truck as he went.

Ethan shook his head and started gathering up the rakes.  Sean loved being a firefighter, and he was so focused on getting on-scene quickly that he often drove away and left his own home unprotected, the door standing wide open.   Ethan was surprised that his friend still had a home to return to after some of the fire calls he went on.

He put the rakes and extra yard bags in the shed and let himself back into the other man’s home.   He didn’t think Sean would mind if he took a few minutes to get cleaned up from all of that yard work.  In fact, maybe Sean wouldn’t mind if he made himself a sandwich and helped himself to a can of cola and maybe even watched a little bit of TV–

After a while, Ethan admitted to himself that he was procrastinating.  He was finding reasons to stay because he just didn’t want to go back to the Seashell alone.  Tara’s pillow still smelled of roses; her floral robe still hung on the hook in his bathroom.  Everywhere he went in the house; there was something to remind him of her.

Regardless of what he had said to Sean, she 
had
 been more than a roommate. More than a friend, he realized.  He had really begun to care for the woman his grandmother had tried so hard to fix him up with.

He sank back into the leather armchair in his friend’s living room and tried not to think about her.  About how good she felt in his arms, or about the way she raised her chin in defiance when she thought anyone was feeling sorry for her.  He 
definitely
 didn’t want to think about the way she moved when they were together in bed, or the way she looked in the morning when she was naked in his bed with her hair splayed out on the pillow and her lips curving in a slow, sleepy smile.

The doorbell rang, startling him.  He glanced at the window, surprised to see that it had grown dark outside while he sat there 
not
 thinking about Tara. 

He was even more surprised when he opened the door and saw her standing on the porch.

“You didn’t answer your phone,” she told him.

“I must have turned off the ringer,” he said.

“They’ve been trying to reach you.  Sean’s mom thought you might be here.”

“Who’s been trying to reach me?  Why did you talk to Sean’s mom?”  And then, in that instant, he knew.  Even before he took in Tara’s tear-streaked face and reddened eyes.  He 
knew
.

“The roof collapsed,” she told him.  It dawned on him that she was holding both of his hands but he had no idea just when she had taken them. “Three firefighters were trapped.  They’ve been taken to the hospital, but –“

“Sean?”

She nodded.