Chapter 18

The questions seemed endless, swirling in my mind like a whirlwind, threatening to push me towards a nervous breakdown. By noon, I had already plowed through a mountain of paperwork, the sound of rustling pages filling the air. Desperate for any lead, I delved deeper into Morales' background, searching for anything that could justify a warrant. But despite the information we had been given and the events of yesterday's sting operation with the girls, the evidence remained insufficient to make an arrest.


With a heavy sigh, I tossed down the pencil, frustration evident as I had broken its lead for the sixth time. My temples throbbed with a growing headache, pulsating like a dull ache. Enough was enough. I snatched my purse, feeling the cool leather against my fingertips, and walked away from my cluttered desk, yearning for a breath of fresh air. The morning not only brought a pounding headache but also a dark cloud of irritability.


Lowering my head, I made my way towards the glass doors, the click-clack of my heels echoing off the tiled floor. Each step conveyed my desperate need for solitude. Standing just before the doors that led outside, I reached into my purse, feeling its contents brush against my fingertips, searching for my keys. The suffocating heat awaited me on the other side, a heavy blanket I longed to escape from. Determined to minimize my exposure, I wanted my keys ready when I finally reached my pickup.


Finally locating them, I’d just pulled the keys from my purse when I was jostled from behind. My keys hit the floor, landing with a loud clatter on the tiles, instantly I bent to retrieve them. The man who had bumped into me did the same and knocked into one another again, we were both sent tumbling backward, where we landed on our asses in ungainly heaps.


The look of embarrassment that stole across the man’s face set me to giggling, and soon I was laughing so hard I had tears running down my cheeks. The man gaped at me, before with a hesitant smile slipping across his lips, he reached out, and quickly swiped my keys off the floor. Afterward, gaining his feet, he offered his hand to help me climb to my own.


Once I was standing, he continued peering at me, as I was now holding my head in both hands, as if it would shatter, and still laughing. I knew I must have looked as if I’d lost my ever-loving mind because he was staring at me as if he thought I’d come unhinged. For, all I knew, I had, as my head continued to play snare drum even as peels of hysterical laughter poured out of my mouth.


The man gently reached out and grasped my arm, asking, “Are you okay, Miss Leathers?”


I’d seen him around the agency, however I didn't know his name. Waving off his concern, I gathered myself and replied, “I’m fine—thank you. It’s just been a hell of a week is all.”


The man nodded slowly, his gaze sympathetic as if he understood my every word. Suddenly, a sharp sound from the side caught our attention. Turning my head, I locked eyes with a pair of frigid, whiskey-tinted orbs that could freeze the ocean in the midst of a scorching heatwave.


Ethan's gaze lingered on me for a few seconds before shifting to the hand gripping my arm. A fleeting emotion flickered across his face, and then, as if I were a stranger, he walked around us, a barely audible growl of "Excuse me" escaping his lips.


Hurt washed over me as I watched him walk away, utterly bewildered. What the fuck? I wondered silently.


As Ethan disappeared from sight, the man released his grip on my arm and gently placed my keys into my open palm, afterward, with a murmured, "Have a good day," he turned and sauntered off.


Anger surged through my veins toward Ethan, fueling my determination as I stormed through the glass doors. My eyes locked on Ethan's retreating figure, and I kicked off my heels, afterward, hurriedly scooping them up from the ground, I chased after him.


Catching up to him, I grabbed his arm and forcefully spun him around. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I hissed, my anger simmering.

As I stood there, seething like a dragon breathing fire, I saw a mix of anger and desire flash in Ethan's eyes. "You're what's wrong with me!" he snapped, shoving me backward until I was pressed against the building, then covered my lips with his in a possessive and heated kiss that sent shivers down my spine. Time seemed to blur as we remained locked in that passionate embrace. Slowly, he released my lips, his hand finding mine and guiding it to his hardened length, a low growl escaping his lips. "This won't fucking leave," he muttered, his body trembling. With a few deep breaths, he whispered, "God, help me, I want you," before turning and walking away.

ETHAN

MY FINGERS WERE shaking, my heart was pounding, and my stomach felt as if seized by a kaleidoscope of butterflies. What in the hell was I doing? I sure as shit wasn’t paying attention to the woman across the table from me.

No, my mind was on a set of perfect tits with small dusky-tipped nipples, tits that were a bit more than a handful. As for the most delectable swaying set of ass-cheeks, I’d ever seen? Son of a bitch, had they fired my blood. A silent groan escaped me. Damn, if both images weren’t burned into my brain, forever to haunt me with their beauty. Goddammit, I knew I shouldn’t have looked last night while in Nico;e's trailer—but, I had, and now I was stuck across the table from my wife, supporting a raging, hard as a ten-penny nail boner that wouldn’t go away. God help me, I was in some major ass trouble. Going straight to hell in the express lane, because I wanted to fuck Nicole so bad I couldn’t see straight.

Coming out of my fog, I heard Ember complain in a whine, “Ethan, did you hear anything I said?”

“What? Oh. No, sorry, my thoughts were somewhere else,” I mumbled, unable to find it within myself to feel guilty about where. Ember and my relationship was...complicated. At one time we'd had great sex together, but neither one loved the other. Our marriage, from the start had been from guilt on my side. An obligation I felt I owed to my dead cousin.

"Well ain’t that just dandy. Why don’t we just call it a night? It’s obvious you’re not interested in our meal, or anything I have to say," she snapped. The words were uttered with a snotty attitude.

I felt my hackles rise, but let it go as I wasn’t in the mood for another fight with her. Instead, I nodded, mumbling, “Yeah...um...we’ll do this another night then.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Ethan.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

It took everything in me not to scream, “Fuck, you!” Instead, I stood, pulled out her chair, and tossed enough money on the table to pay for our meal and tip, before heading to the door to make our exit from the restaurant.

One downside of being an investigator was the fact we were always on call. Thus, I’d driven to the restaurant separate from Ember, and as we came to a stop next to her Acura, her mood shifted again.
Leaning forward, she brushed against me. “It’s been a while, and I’m horny. How about we go home and have sex?”

“Son of a bitch!” I uttered the curse under my breath. She was like a damn chameleon—her moods shifted like the lizard changed colors.

As I hunted for an excuse to brush her off, her perfume wafted upwards with her movements, the scent assaulting my nose. It was heavy and cloying, repugnant almost, and her touch irritated the shit out of me, unlike the light scent and touch of Nicole.

Jerking my wandering mind back in place, I tried to disentangle myself from Ember’s arms, doing my damnedest not to be too obvious. “Um, honest? I’m not in the mood tonight.”

Pulling back, she glared at me. “Jeez, Ethan, you’ve sounded like the same damn broken record for months now.”