6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Freya

T rudy drops off my things from work, but has to leave just as quickly. I mention nothing about what happened today, when Caleb called me. So, when I hear the door knock, I think it's her, returning, picking up on my hesitation, knowing full well that there's something bothering me, that I neglected to mention. But as I open the door, I see that, in fact, it's not Trudy. It's Ethan. The man that broke my heart. The man that ruined me for all other men forever. Sure, I'm half to blame for the demise of our relationship, but I'm not all to blame.

That first date. I should have told him even before I agreed to it. I should have told him that I'd been having an on-again-off-again affair with his brother Caleb, but I was a coward. I lost my nerve. This may sound utterly daft, but Caleb and I just had a casual fuck every couple of months or so. That's all. Aye, I know that it's weird to fuck someone's brother, and then, a year later, fuck them, too, but I never thought of it that way. Caleb made it clear that he just wanted to fuck me, in fact, it was literally brought up, just like that. I met him after I met Ethan, and to be truthful, I didn't even put two and two together, since my meeting with Ethan for the first time was so brief.

Caleb and I met by accident, at a conference, and I attend many of those. We fucked at the hotel, and then a couple of months later he called me, we met at his place, fucked again, and then he didn't call me again for a few months. You get the picture. Neither one of us was interested in pursuing anything beyond that. Caleb and I only had chemistry in the bedroom, and even that wasn't great, since I'm very shy, and since I don't sleep around, it's over very fast for me. He didn't like that. He wanted more of a challenge, so I'm guessing my number was the one he called when he just wanted a quick fuck, with no strings attached.

But, Ethan. The first time I set eyes on him, I was smitten. I couldn't bear to call him and ask him out. First, it would be unprofessional, since we had a business relationship. Second, it would be embarrassing, since I'd had an affair with his brother first. But when he asked me out, I knew that I'd thought about him many times since we first met, and I just couldn't resist. I also couldn't bring myself to tell him the truth. And as I stand there, in the doorway of my home, all the memories come flooding back to me, from the first time we made love.

He's perfect. As he stands there, dressing, after having made me come three times, and I could go more if we had the time. All I can think about is how he looked as he thrust into me. How sexy. How perfectly barbaric yet tender he looked, as he filled me over and over again. I can't tell him now. God, now that I've had him, he would be disgusted. He would never want to make love to me again, but I don't know how I can live with myself, without telling the truth. Then he leans over and kisses my lips, giving me a wink that says everything that it needs to say, and I think to myself to just keep my mouth shut. "What are you doing Friday?" He asks, shocking me. I figured after this, he'd be finished, you know. A little breakfast, a lot of sex, and we're done, but no.

"Aside from work, nothing. Trudy's going away with her boyfriend this weekend."

"Trudy's got a boyfriend?"

I nod. "Aye. He's new. Wants to take her up to his cottage. She isn't the cottage type, but she wants to get laid, so she'll cut the wood and roast the marshmallows."

He chuckles. "How about I take you to dinner? We kind of did things backwards here, lass. Normally, you're supposed to take the lady out first, sleep with her, and then do breakfast." He winks.

"Do I look like I care about the order of operations?" I smile.

He kisses me again, as I get dressed. Every time he does, I get a delicious shiver up my spine. He is perfect. Tall, lean yet muscular in all the right places, big blue eyes, short, curly brown hair that he leaves just a tad longer in front, perfect teeth, plus he's a god in bed. And he doesn't seem to be offended by the fact that I come at the drop of a hat. I can't help it. He's incredibly sexy and gorgeous. Irresistible.

"No, you don't. I'm glad. I feel like I fucked you up for the event."

I sigh, wrapping my arms around his neck. "I'll just be extra relaxed."

He kisses me again. "Come on. I don't want you to be late on account of me."

Ethan loads all my stuff onto his truck, follows me over, helps me unload, and even helps me set up. And I can't help but wonder if he's doing this out of guilt, or if he really doesn't mind helping me. But as he kisses me goodbye, and my heart flutters, I think it's safe to say that he doesn't mind. I'm nervous about allowing him to get inside. Should I tell him about me and his brother? As he takes down my address and leaves, I watch his fine ass walk to his truck, and once again, I lose my nerve. I make a deal with myself. If this turns into something more than just physical, I'll tell him, but if it doesn't, and I'm just another Harris boy toy, I'll keep it to myself. Unless, of course, Caleb finds out, but then it's between him and his brother, right?

"Ethan. What are you doing here?" I ask him tentatively. As I feel my back going up. I know I fucked up with him. Bad. I know I kept a secret that I shouldn't have. But all that aside, the man is still so fucking gorgeous, even more so than he was a year ago, when I last saw him, and I can't keep my eyes off him. He could be married with a bairn on the way for all I know, so I avert my eyes quickly.

"Can I come in for a moment?" He asks, his face serious.

"Aye." I take a step back, allowing him entry. My house smells like stew, since I have some on the slow cooker. The week is going to be crazy, and when I know that that's what the deal is, I pre-cook a bunch of food, freezing half of it. Ethan takes a look around, and I'm not sure what he's thinking, but I can only imagine why he's here. Caleb told him about what happened today, and he's here for revenge. What's worse is he's got a huge shiner. Both eyes are bruised, and his nose looks broken. I can bet who's responsible for that. "Do you need some ice?" I ask, indicating his nose.

"No. Thank you." He says tersely.

"Can I offer you some tea? Or a beer?"

"Some water would be good." He says, tone still stiff, as he follows me into the eat-in kitchen and takes a seat. I pull a bottle of water out of the fridge. Normally, I reserve those for travelling, and opt to drink from my water filtration system under the sink, but I'm nervous, and I don't want to serve him something that isn't the best. Part of me feels like I should be angry for showing up here, after him ditching me, but the other part of me still feels guilty for what I did, and that part of me is trumping the other one. Plus, I'm curious about the story going on within the Harris family, and if it's even true; that Caleb has adopted a bairn.

I hand him the water and sit opposite him. I don't say a word, as I wait for him to drain half the bottle. After he swallows the last bit, he looks at me. "Why wouldn't you step up today?" He asks, in a judging tone that immediately gets my back up. "Why would you be so fucking petty, Freya?"

"Petty?" I ask, lifting my brows, almost squeaking with shock. "You think me putting my job on the line is petty?"

"A child's life was at stake, Freya." He says, rubbing his forehead, in frustration, I'm guessing.

"Aye. How am I supposed to believe that, Ethan? I haven't seen or spoken to you or any of your family in over a year, and for all I knew, Caleb could have been pulling a fast one. In case you didn't know, I don't like jails."

He sighs. "Don't hand me that shit, Freya. You know we're not criminals. And why would any of us lie to you, huh? As far as I can remember, the only liar here is you."

"Did you come to my house to insult me, Ethan? Because if you did, you can leave right now."

"I came to find out why you wouldn't help, dammit!" He spits, punching the table with his closed fist. "Come on, Freya! Have you lost your heart? You know that if anything were to happen with your job, that we would have backed you up! And that goes as well for any legal troubles!"

I grit my teeth together. "How am I supposed to trust any of you after the way you treated me, Ethan? Huh!" I shout at him. "You broke my fucking heart and left me, without so much as a word!"

He looks at me and bares his teeth. "You know why I left, Freya! I told you loud and clear! You fucked my brother and didn't tell me about it…until it was too fucking late!" He flails his arms in the air. "You want to talk about getting your heart broken! You tore mine the fuck out and stomped on it! How do you think it made me feel, goddammit!"

I rise. "Why are you here, Ethan! Is this about your niece or about me! Something tells me you have more of a score to settle about us than about what happened with the bairn today!"

"You owed me a fucking favor, after what you did, Freya! I figure it's the least you could have done!" He shouts, rising, spittle flying out of his mouth.

I point at him, speaking low, guttural. "I told you I already apologized for what I did, Ethan. It was over a year ago! Get over it! I am!"

"Are you?" He asks, in a condescending whisper.

"What is it of your fucking business, Ethan? Why do you even fucking care?"

"I don't care!" He lies. "I just feel like you owe me a fucking explanation for why you wouldn't help today! You know how stupid you made me look today?!"

"That's your fucking fault for never telling Caleb! Not mine!"

"And whose fault was it for not telling me, huh!"

"I said I apologized and it's in the past, Ethan! Get the fuck over it!" I place a hand on my waist indignantly. "Seriously, why are you here? You're yelling at me more for the past than you are for what happened today. Clearly the bairn is fine, otherwise you wouldn't be here, you'd be out looking for her, so why are you here? You told me that you never wanted to see me again, Ethan! And look! Here you are!"

He slides a hand through his hair and sits back down, as if composing himself. The look on his face is the same look that he had when he broke up with me, and I can't look at him. It's agonizing. I've since learned to go to my happy place and remember the good times.

"You look nice." Ethan says, as I open the door to him. He's picking me up for our promised date, as it's Friday night.

"You, too." I say to him, glancing down his body. He's in a pair of casual black dress pants and a white linen shirt. It's insane how he can make something so simple look so goddamn hot. "Just let me grab my purse."

"So, how was the rest of your week?" He asks, but I don't know why, because we've spoken on the phone every day, and I've told him how things were going.

"Good. Can't complain. Busy, but I thrive in chaos." I admit, as he opens his truck door for me.

"I can tell. Anyone that works full-time and has a side business is a type A personality for sure."

He walks around the truck and hops into the driver's side.

"You think I'm a type A, do you? What's your excuse? You work sixty hours a week. I'm surprised you could muster the time to call me as often as you did this week."

"I was raised like that. My mama and da practically raised us at the office, when we weren't with the nanny. And I love it. They say if you find something you love, it's never work, well that holds true for me."

I shrug. "It's the same for me, Ethan. I love both my day job and my side job. I don't watch television, I'm not that into music, and my hobby is creating banking software. You do the math."

"I suppose you're right. A self-professed workaholic."

I lift a finger. "But I do play hard, too. I love travelling."

He looks at me, lifting his brows. "When's your next trip?"

"It's not a when it's a where." I explain. "After I go back to Scotland, I'm heading to Paris, with my mama."

"Nice. Have you been to Paris before?"

"Once." I nod. "But I was very young, and I don't remember it. Hence the return trip."

He looks at me as we head onto the highway. I have no idea where we're going, but I'm glad I wore a tasteful dress, seeing as he's dressed equally tasteful. "When are you going?"

"Just as soon as I finish developing this latest software. I have a personal rule: I never leave a project unfinished. That's my reward. When I finish my current work in progress, I go away."

"And Gill is cool with that? How much vacation time do you get?"

"I work remotely for some of it, so he lets me go when I want, as long as I get my projects done first. So, it's the same rule at work as it is at home."

"And Gill is aware that you have a side business?"

I frown. "Sure, he does. That's half the reason I got hired at his bank."

"How come you're not taking Trudy to Paris with you?"

"Because I promised my mama. She's dying to go."

He rests his hand on mine. "You're a mama's girl. I like that."

I cringe, so he can see my reaction. "You're not a mama's boy, are you?"

He winks, giving me a shiver. "I would say I'm equally favorable to both my parents."

"Is that a clever way of sidestepping the answer?"

"Not at all. I'm not a good liar, Freya. Not in my personal life, anyway. And in business, only if da order me to."

"Does he order you to lie often?"

We veer off the highway, and the restaurant is literally off the highway. He pulls into a spot and answers my question. "He orders me to do tasks often, but not to lie, no. Only if it's absolutely necessary."

"Alright. I'll allow it." He snorts a laugh, and I'm about to open the door, but he stifles me, lifting a hand. I watch him walk over to the passenger side and open the door for me. "Such a gentleman."

He just smiles warmly, helping me down off the running boards, but I notice that he keeps my hand in his as we walk into the restaurant. It's a fancy place, with candles on each table, and linen tablecloths that wrap around each leg in a wave pattern. He pulls the chair out for me, and then he takes his seat. The menu doesn't have anything on it for less than fifty dollars, and it doesn't show cents, so you know it's expensive. When the waitress comes around, he lifts a finger. "Can we get a bottle of your finest wine, please?"

"Yes, sir." She says, curtseying, and I want to gag.

"A wine connoisseur?" I ask him.

He waves. "Not a clue on that front. That's why I just asked for the best."

I snort a laugh. "Why didn't you just ask for a scotch?"

"Because scotch is for after dinner, not during. I at least know that much."

"A man with class."

"Not really." He looks around to make sure that nobody is overhearing. "I forgot to do laundry, and I ran out of clean briefs. I'm going commando tonight, lass."

A sudden rush of pleasure flushes through me. I have never been so turned on by a simple sentence in my life. "Really." I say, trying to hide the desire in my voice. "And what about socks?"

"Had a new package, thankfully."

I chuckle. "God, I thought you'd squelch on this date, Ethan. I'm so glad you didn't."

He tilts his head. "Why did you think I'd squelch? I'm the one who asked you out."

"And that's why. I mean, we didn't exactly get off to a great start."

Another brow lift. "I thought it was a fucking excellent start, frankly."

I swear to God my panties are soaked now. "I'm not denying that. I just figured that was the end of it."

"Did you want it to be the end of it?" He asks carefully.

I shake my head quickly. "Exactly the opposite, Ethan. That's why I said I'm glad that you didn't."

He gives me a cocky smile. "I'm ordering a steak. Don't be shy, lass."

Just as he says that, a man resembling a snooty butler appears, with a white linen napkin draped over his forearm, holding two wine glasses in the same hand, and a bottle of chilled wine laying inside an ice bucket in the other hand. "Your wine, sir." He says, carefully setting the glasses down, and then equally carefully pouring the wine into the glasses. Ethan pushes his hand in the air, indicating when he can stop.

"Thank you, sir." The butler says, as if Ethan was the one that poured the wine.

Ethan lifts the glass as the man leaves us. "To a fine meal." He says.

All I can think is, ‘and an even better dessert', but I don't say it aloud. I just take a sip of the delicious wine and hope to God that it doesn't go to my head and I say something stupid, like what's on my mind. Ethan makes me want to crawl under the table, take down his pants, and check to make sure he's really not wearing underwear. "To a fine meal."

An hour later, we're deep in a conversation about my software, and Ethan is truly enthralled in the back end of what I do, as I explain to him how I develop it. "God, how are you not a millionaire, Freya? I mean, if you marketed your product better, opened a factory, hired staff, you could really make a killing."

"Please. Inside, you're laughing at me, Ethan."

His face falls. "Seriously. Freya, you could do so much with this."

"The American dream, huh."

"Aye. You're doing this small potatoes, Freya. You have so much more potential."

"I like it small potatoes, for now. Besides, I make enough money, Ethan. I'm no millionaire, but I don't want to be." I say honestly. "Money isn't everything to me. Happiness is."

He blinks. His expression changes. It's like I hit a nerve.

"Are you okay, Ethan? Did I offend you?"

He swallows, eyes still on me. He's either sizing me up, trying to figure me out, trying to think of a good lie, or trying to figure out how to soften the blow, but tell me what he really thinks. "I just…everyone I've ever met that has money just wants more of it. I've never met anyone that was just happy like that."

I take another sip of wine. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" I ask carefully.

He blinks again, tilting his head, as if trying to shake it off. His words are measured. "It's probably the first time I've ever felt like I could truly trust someone that isn't family."

"Occupational hazard?"

He nods. "Aye. I see a lot of greed, Freya, as I'm sure you have, too. It's nice to finally meet someone that isn't after the almighty dollar."

I squeeze his hand. "I'm so sorry that you had to wait this long."