Addicted (Ethan Frost #2)(61)

“I love you,” he tells me as he yanks his mouth from mine. “I love you, Chloe. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

And then it’s his turn to shove his hands through my hair, his turn to pull my head back. He fastens his mouth to my neck, to my throat, and ecstasy wells up within me.

“Ethan!” I cry his name as my body hurtles over the edge. And then he’s with me, holding me, loving me, as we splinter into a thousand pieces that somehow fit together just perfectly.



Hours later, I awaken to Ethan’s hand on my shoulder, his concerned face inches from mine.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, trying to gather my still-scattered wits.

“You need to get dressed. We have to go.”

“Go?” I’m still groggy, still out of it from the crazy late night run and too-intense early morning lovemaking.

“The fires are getting bad. We’re going to Napa for a couple of days.”

“Napa? We can’t just go to Napa.”

“Well, we can’t stay here. There’s a total of fifteen fires burning around the city, the air quality is shit and everything is shut down. It’ll be days before they get things under control.”

“Oh my God. All those people—”

“I know,” he tells me grimly, even as he helps me out of bed. “Frost Industries is running buses in the poorest area of towns, where public transportation is overloaded and people don’t have the means to get away.”

“Where are you taking them?”

“We’re working with the city on getting shelters set up in Temecula and Lake Elsinore. At this point the wind is blowing toward the south, and they don’t anticipate any changes for a while. Which means we’re in trouble down here, but people up north should be safe.”

“You’re amazing,” I tell him, pressing a hard kiss to his mouth. “You know that, right?”

“It’s nothing. Anyone who has the means would do it.”

“No,” I tell him, looking him straight in the eye. “That’s what makes you different than so many others.”

It’s what I should have told Miles when he came here bitching about Ethan, what I should have reminded myself of when I started to have doubts. Ethan is, no doubt, the most decent guy I know. He helps people for no other reason than because he can. A guy like that doesn’t throw in with scum, even if they are his family. A guy like that would never betray me.

“Do I have time for a shower?” I ask as I cross to the closet, suddenly realizing how sticky and gross I feel.

“If you hurry. No more than five minutes. Michael is already outside.”

“Michael. You’re not leaving him here, are you?” I demand.

“No, Chloe. He’s flying the helicopter that’s taking us out of here. And I’ve hired a large plane to take any Frost Industries employees and their families to Vegas who want to evacuate there. Good enough, Your Highness?”

“Perfect. Better than perfect.”

“Now move,” he says, with a quick swat to my bottom. “Your shower’s down to four minutes.”

It takes me six, but Ethan doesn’t complain. And then we’re making a mad dash for the helipad. My hair is soaking wet and I’m shoving a haphazard assortment of clothes into my backpack as he shoves me toward the back door.

But the second we step outside, I can see why he’s so concerned. The sky is nearly black with smoke, the air quality so terrible I can barely catch my breath. And as we run toward the helipad, ash actually falls on us, coating our skin and clothes and hair.

“My God,” I tell him, looking around with wide eyes. “It’s like hell out here. Why didn’t you wake me sooner?”

“I woke you as soon as everything was arranged. Waking you up earlier wouldn’t have done anything but given you more time to worry.”

“No offense, but it looks like there’s a lot to worry about.”

He presses a kiss to my temple. “We’ll be fine. Now move.” He points to the helicopter that’s waiting on the helipad, rotors whirring. “Michael will have trouble flying that thing if the smoke gets any thicker.”

That’s all it takes to get me moving, running full out toward the chopper despite my sore muscles and aching lungs.

Within minutes we’re airborne, flying straight up through the smoke to where the air is a little clearer. “Why Napa?” I ask Ethan, after we’re out of the worst of it.

“Because I have a vineyard there I thought you might like to see.”

“A vineyard? You own a vineyard?” I don’t know why that shocks me so much. The man owns a lot, after all. But still. A vineyard? It sounds so decadent and lovely, all at the same time.

Ethan laughs and pulls me into his side. “I own several vineyards, actually. But only one in Napa.”

“Several. Where are the others?”

“Italy. France. Mexico.”

“Of course. Because why wouldn’t you have vineyards all over the world?”

He laughs. “Exactly. Why wouldn’t I?”

I shoot him a dirty look. “You don’t actually want me to answer that, do you?”

“Not even a little bit. This one is my favorite, though.”