Chapter 6

Six

Natalie

The swing in the deserted schoolyard swayed, its chains creaking softly, while I put the final touches on arranging my classroom. The weekend had been a blur of thoughts, emotions, and the lingering sensation of Ethan's touch.

I'd tried to keep myself busy, hoping the routine would help me regain some sense of normalcy, but it was no use. Every time I closed my eyes, I was back in that moment with him—dancing, laughing, and eventually letting go of my reservations just long enough to experience something I hadn't felt in a long time: connection.

I sighed, placing the last stack of workbooks on a shelf, and stood back to admire my work. The classroom was ready for the week ahead, a small victory in an otherwise chaotic tangle of emotions. I grabbed my purse and keys, intending to head home and immerse myself in a steamy bath. Maybe that would keep my mind off things. Maybe.

But as I stepped out into the parking lot, my thoughts came to an abrupt halt. There, leaning casually against my car, was Ethan, holding a bouquet of flowers in an apple-shaped vase. The sight of him made my heart skip a beat, and for a split second, I considered ducking back inside to avoid whatever conversation was about to happen. But it was too late—he'd already seen me, and his smile was both confident and slightly nervous.

I walked over, my steps measured and cautious. "Ethan," I greeted, trying to keep my tone neutral. The last thing I needed was for him to see just how much his presence was affecting me.

"Hey, Natalie." He straightened up, his grip firm on the vase. "I thought I'd surprise you."

Surprise didn't even begin to cover it. My eyes fell on the flowers—sunflowers and daisies, bright and cheerful, their petals catching the sunlight in a way that made them seem almost alive. It was a beautiful gesture, one that touched me in a way I wasn't prepared for. But I quickly masked my surprise with a polite smile, my mind racing with questions.

"For me?" I asked, my voice lighter than I felt inside.

He handed me the arrangement, and for a moment, our hands brushed together. The contact sent a new jolt of excitement through me. "Yeah," he replied, his smile softening. "I saw these and thought they'd brighten your day."

I took the arrangement, my fingers brushing over the smooth surface of the apple vase. It was a sweet gesture, the kind of thing that would have made me swoon once upon a time. But now, with everything that had happened, it only made me more wary. What did he want from me? What was the purpose behind this unexpected kindness?

"Thank you," I said, keeping my voice calm and controlled, even though my emotions were anything but. "It's lovely."

Ethan's smile grew, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—nervousness, maybe—that made me pause. Was he as uncertain as I was? The thought made my chest tighten, a reminder that I wasn't the only one struggling with conflicting emotions.

We stood there by my car; the atmosphere between us thick with unspoken words. My mind raced, darting between the present and past experiences. How many times had Jason tried to win me over with grand gestures after a misunderstanding or an argument, only for me to realize later that they were just his way of smoothing things over without addressing the real issues? The memory made me cautious, even as I clutched the vase a little tighter.

Ethan seemed to sense my hesitation. "It's just flowers, Natalie," he said with a small, almost apologetic laugh. "I'm not trying to overstep or anything. I just… I don't know. I wanted to do something nice."

His attempt to lighten the mood helped, but it didn't completely dispel the questions swirling in my mind. Why was he here, really? Was this just another way to ease the uncertainty from our unexpected tryst, or was there something more to it?

I forced a smile, trying to push past my doubts. "It's a thoughtful gesture, Ethan. I appreciate it."

The silence between us stretched on for too long, neither of us quite sure what to say next. I felt a pang of frustration at my own guardedness, wishing I could just let myself enjoy the gesture without overanalyzing it. But old habits die hard, and my mind was already racing with what-ifs and maybes.

Then, almost impulsively, I blurted out, "Would you like to come over for dinner?"

The invitation hung in the air between us, surprising even me. I hadn't planned on saying it—it had slipped out, a reflexive response to the conflicting emotions swirling inside me. But now that the words were out, I couldn't take them back.

Ethan blinked, clearly taken aback. But then his smile returned, a little wider, a little more genuine. "I'd like that," he said, his tone warm and sincere. "I'll stop and get some wine before heading over."

I nodded, trying to ignore the flutter in my chest. "Okay, then. Let's do it."

As I climbed into my car, my mind was confused. What was I doing? I'd just invited a guy I barely knew back to my place—again. And there was no denying that Ethan was stirring up feelings I wasn't sure I was ready to face. There was something about him, his mysterious charm, that had me hooked. The attraction between us was undeniable, making me curious to uncover the layers beneath his smooth exterior.

Driving home, a thousand thoughts bubbled in my mind. This could be amazing, or it could end up breaking me all over again. But despite the uncertainty, I couldn't shake the excitement about what might unfold between us.

I decided on a simple pasta dish with a salad—not too fancy, just enough to make it feel like a real meal. As I chopped vegetables, trying to focus, I couldn't ignore the nerves swirling in my stomach. The flowers he brought were sweet, but something about Ethan kept me on edge.

A knock at the door startled me out of my thoughts. Wiping my hands on a towel, I took a deep breath and opened it. And there he was, standing on my porch, flashing that confident smile that never failed to make my heart skip a beat.

"Hi," I greeted, trying to sound casual.

"Hey," Ethan replied, his eyes scanning my face for a moment before flicking to the kitchen behind me. "It's starting to smell good in there."

"It's just pasta," I said with a shrug, stepping aside to let him in. "Nothing fancy."

He walked past me into the house, his presence immediately filling the space. "Need any help?" he asked, turning to face me as I closed the door.

I hesitated, unsure whether to accept his offer. But the genuine look in his eyes won me over. "Sure," I said, leading him into the kitchen. "You can chop the garlic."

Ethan rolled up his sleeves, revealing those muscular forearms that had caught my attention before, and got to work. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as I returned to my own task. He moved with an ease and confidence that took me by surprise. Most guys I knew couldn't even boil water, let alone chop garlic like a pro.

"You've done this before," I said, more of a statement than a question.

He glanced up at me with a grin. "Maybe a few times. I'm no gourmet chef, but I know my way around a kitchen."

"That's more than I can say for most people," I replied, unable to hide my amusement.

As we worked side by side, the initial strain between us began to ease. There was something strangely comforting about the rhythm we fell into as if we'd done this a hundred times before. It was unexpected, this sense of familiarity, but I couldn't deny how natural it felt.

As we continued cooking, Ethan suggested a few tweaks to the recipe—adding a splash of the white wine he had brought to the sauce and tossing in some fresh herbs. They were small changes, but they made a world of difference. The simple dish I'd planned was transformed into something that smelled and tasted incredible, and I found myself impressed, not just by his cooking skills but by how easily he'd slipped into this role.

"You've got some talent," I said, trying to keep the surprise out of my voice. "I wasn't expecting that."

Ethan shrugged, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I've picked up a few things here and there. Let's just say I've had some good teachers."

I couldn't help but smile at that. He was full of surprises, this man who seemed so at home in a small-town auto shop but could also hold his own in a kitchen. It was just another layer to the enigma that was Ethan, and I found myself growing more curious by the minute.

The conversation flowed more easily now, the earlier edginess giving way to a comfortable camaraderie. We shared stories—nothing too deep, but enough to start building a connection. He told me about his love for vintage cars, and I shared how much I enjoyed seeing the kids' faces light up when they learned something new. I even laughed at his jokes, something I hadn't done with a man in a long time.

Dinner was ready before I knew it, and we sat down at the small table in my kitchen. As we ate, the chemistry between us was undeniable. Our gazes met across the table, our conversation flowed effortlessly, and there were those subtle, almost accidental touches that sent a spark through me each time.

Trying to keep things light, I asked, "So, where are you from, Ethan?"

He paused for a split second, just long enough for me to notice, before answering, "Dallas, actually. But I got tired of the big city and wanted a fresh start in a small town."

I studied him for a moment, sensing something beneath the surface. Was he telling the whole truth? I pushed the thought aside, reminding myself not to be overly suspicious.

"How are you liking Cedar Cove so far?" I continued, keeping my tone casual.

"It's different," he admitted, "but I like it. The slower pace, the community—it's a nice change." Ethan leaned forward slightly, his gaze softening. "What about you? Did you grow up here?"

"I did," I replied, a small smile dawning on my lips. "But my folks moved away while I was in college. They're in Washington, DC now, working for a group of lobbyists."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Lobbyists, huh? Who do they work for?"

I shrugged, not really interested in the details myself. "I'm not into politics, so I don't really keep up with it. But they seem happy there."

Ethan nodded; his expression thoughtful as he processed what I'd said. For a moment, the conversation lulled, and we both focused on our food, but the air between us was still charged with an unspoken connection.

"Must be nice, having roots in a place like this," he finally said, his voice low, almost contemplative.

"It is," I agreed, meeting his gaze. "Cedar Cove has a way of getting under your skin. It's home, even when you don't realize it."

We lingered at the table after dinner, the conversation flowing easily as we finished the bottle of wine. I found myself relaxing more and more, drawn in by his kindness and the way he seemed genuinely interested in getting to know me. But as the evening wore on, something shifted. I could see a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, something I hadn't noticed before.

Taking a deep breath, I decided to be honest with him. "You know," I began, my voice soft, "I'm still healing from a broken relationship. It's been tough, and I'm not sure I'm ready to jump into something new, but… there's something about you that makes me want to try."

Ethan's expression softened, and he nodded as if he understood exactly what I meant. "I get it," he said quietly. "I've had my share of relationships, but there's no one special in my life right now. I'm not sure what I'm looking for, but… I'm glad I met you, Natalie."

His words hung in the air between us, filled with sincerity. There was no rush, no pressure, just a mutual understanding that we were both navigating uncharted waters.

When the evening finally came to an end, I walked Ethan to the door, my emotions a tangled mess of attraction and doubt. He turned to face me, his expression soft, and for a moment, I thought he might kiss me. But instead, he simply smiled—a smile that made my heart flutter.

"Thanks for dinner," he said, his voice low and sincere.

"Thanks for helping and for the beautiful flowers," I replied, returning his smile.

With a final, lingering look Ethan left, leaving me alone with my thoughts, still wondering what secrets he might be keeping.

I sighed as I closed the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment as I tried to process the evening. It had been… nice. More than nice. I wandered over to the couch, ready to relax and maybe lose myself in a book for a while. But just as I was about to settle in, my phone buzzed with a text message. I picked it up, my breath catching in my throat when I saw the name on the screen.

JASON : Hey, remember this day? It would have been the anniversary of our first date. Just thought I'd say hi. Are you doing well?

The message seemed casual, but I knew Jason too well—it was a deliberate attempt to stir up old emotions and keep me tethered to the past. Memories I'd fought to bury resurfaced, and I hated that he still had this power over me.

As I stared at the screen, the happiness I'd felt earlier began to fade, replaced by a gnawing uncertainty. I tossed the phone aside and curled up on the couch, determined to push away Jason's lingering influence and focus instead on Ethan—the intensity of his smile, the comfort of his presence, and the possibility of something new.