Addicted (Ethan Frost #2)(57)

“I’m over past Coastal Park,” I tell him. “Probably a couple of miles.”

He bites off a particularly vicious curse. “Are you telling me you ran over twenty miles tonight? Straight down the beach?”

“I guess. I wasn’t—”

“Is there anyone around you? Anyone hassling you?”

“No, it’s completely deserted. I’m the only one out here.”

He curses again. “I’m not sure if I should be grateful for that fact or upset. Look, don’t move, okay. Stay on the beach, preferably in the shadows, and answer your goddamned phone when I call. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He clicks off without saying good-bye—more proof of how angry he is at me—and it’s not like I can really blame him. In my headlong flight I’ve gone well beyond the safe boundaries of La Jolla and while this area isn’t bad, it isn’t great, either.

Ethan really is going to kill me when he gets here.

I try to do what he asked, I really do, but after a few minutes of just waiting here I start to get antsy. And cold. Now that I’ve cooled down from the run, the cool breeze off the ocean is striking right through my thin tank top and yoga pants.

So I get up and start to walk back up the beach, the way I came. I don’t go up on the street—I’m not totally stupid—but I do try to walk the two miles to Coastal Park, so I have an actual landmark for Ethan to meet me at when he calls again.

I’ve just stepped foot in the parking lot when Ethan calls again to try to get a better location. I tell him where I am and he’s there in under three minutes. He jumps out of the car the second he sees me, and then he’s wrapping his arms around me, pulling me against his body.

“I’m fine,” I tell him, struggling against him.

“Can you just let me hold you for a minute, please? Let it sink in that you really are okay?” His voice is hoarse, the strain of the last few hours evident in it. The strain is also evident in the way he holds me so tightly and the fact that he’s in no rush, at all, to let me go.

“Look, I know it was stupid and I’m sorry. I meant to just run a couple of miles, but then I was in my head and I went a lot farther than I intended. I’m sorry. But nothing happened. I didn’t even see another person the whole time I was running.”

His grip finally loosens as he pulls back to look me in the face. “That’s because whole areas of San Diego are under curfew and other areas are being forced to evacuate. With the wind tonight, the forest fires have gotten much worse. You picked pretty much the worst possible time to disappear.”
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“Oh, shit.” No wonder he was so worried. He wasn’t just being his normal overprotective self. He’d been worried about me running straight into a wildfire, something I could have done if I hadn’t made the unconscious decision to stay on the beach.

“Yeah, my sentiments exactly.” He ushers me into the car, and then we’re speeding through the streets as Ethan aims to get us back to his house—and to safety—as quickly as he possibly can.

“How close is the nearest fire?” I ask a few minutes later as we drive past La Jolla Cove.

“About four miles. They think we’ll be fine down here, but they’re evacuating Miramar all the way down to UTC and Torrey Pines all the way up to Del Mar.”

“God. That’s half the coast. How many fires are there?”

“Seven right now, but with this wind, they think there are going to be more before too long.”

“I need to call Tori.”

“I already have. She’s fine. Her father is sending a plane for her tomorrow morning. She decided now was the perfect time to go to Vegas for a few days.”

Of course he’d checked on Tori. It’s the kind of guy Ethan is, the kind of guy he’s always been. Who his family is doesn’t change his basic decency.

“Maybe we should go to Vegas,” I joke. “I just turned twenty-one, after all.”

Ethan glances at me. “Believe me, I’ve thought about it.”

“Oh, yeah? Vacation?”

“Honeymoon. I could get you drunk and married before you knew what hit you.”

“Yeah, right,” I tell him even as my stomach gives a funny little jump. “You shouldn’t joke about that. I might take you up on it.”

“If only.” He doesn’t glance at me as he negotiates the winding street up to his house, but somehow that only makes our current conversation seem more surreal.

“Stop teasing,” I tell him as he finally pulls the car into the driveway.

He jerks the car to a stop and then he reaches for me, pulling me out of my seat and onto his lap in one swift movement. It’s a small space and the steering wheel is cutting into my back but I barely notice it. How can I when Ethan is all but devouring me with his eyes.

“What makes you think, even for a second, that I’m joking? I would marry you tomorrow if you’d agree. Vegas. A justice of the peace. An impromptu beach wedding in Tahiti. I don’t actually give a shit. I love you, Chloe, and the second you are ready to marry me, I promise we’ll get it done.”

His mouth crashes down on mine then, and I’m so out of it—so completely astonished—that I can’t do anything but sit there clinging to him as he ravishes me.