Head On (Strength And Love)(48)

I try to turn my face away again, but he won’t let me, and his expression is killing me. His usually hard look is gone, softened, and I don’t want to see pity on those handsome features. But when I wipe away more tears and focus on him, I see something else in his eyes. Something new.

“I was pissed at you earlier,” he says, voice low, almost as if he’s talking to himself. “But once I knew you’d been taken it all went out the window. It made me realise something, too. I understood then that I couldn’t lose you. I don’t know how you’ve done it, but you’ve wormed your way under my skin completely.”

He scrubs a hand through his hair and glances to the window for a moment, before looking back at me. “I don’t find this shit easy to talk about, but I want you in my life. Not to date like we said. Fuck that, I’m a thirty-four-year-old man, and for the first time I’ve met a woman who matters to me. But, I get you’re in a totally different place, and if you want to do the dating shit, I will. But for me, this is it. I want you. I want you in my house. I want you in my bed. Every night. And every time I learn something new about you, it only makes me admire you more.”

He smiles at me. “I said we should meet this head on and then move on. Now I just want to meet this…us, head on and stick with it. Fuck it, Isla. I want to do this.”

His words send a thrill down my spine. “I can’t have kids, Ethan. Didn’t you hear me? I need to have checks for breast cancer on a regular basis. I lost my mum. It’s like I’m cursed or something.”

“I heard you, and I’m sorry you’ve been through so much. But for me, the kids thing is not a big issue. And if you decide one day you want kids, we can adopt. There are tons of kids out there who need a loving home. But, I’m kind of happy with my dogs, and I look after Katie a lot.”

I don’t know how I feel at his words. I’m ecstatic he doesn’t see me as some fragile thing, but as someone strong. I’m also over the moon we’re on a similar page about having children.

But talk about laying some heavy things on me. He wants me with him, all the time. That means moving in, and we barely know one another. Can a relationship work from that sort of beginning? I voice my fears. “I want to keep seeing you, but I’m not sure about the moving in part of it. I mean, what relationship is successful when people move in together after only knowing one another mere weeks…days even.”

He laughs then, and I’ve never seen him laugh like this. He laughs so hard tears start to fall from his eyes. After a while he gets himself under control.

“Baby, the whole way we met was fucked up beyond belief. You’re worried about us moving in together too soon? Have you forgotten how we met?” He laughs some more, but then sobers up. “I get it, though. I don’t want to push you. Why don’t we agree to this? You go home to stay with your dad. I’m sure he’s going to need some time with you after all this, and we’ll date. But I’m going to ask you now and again to move in with me, and I hope one day you’ll say yes.”

He’s asking me to move in with him, but he’s not told me he loves me. Maybe he doesn’t, or maybe he thinks it’s too soon. Do I love him? I think I’m falling for him. But I need some time and space. I want to be with Dad, too. But I don’t want to give Ethan up. This way I get to have the best of both worlds, and time to get over everything that’s happened. I wonder if life will ever stop throwing shit at me. Maybe I am cursed. Maybe Ethan would be better off without me.

Soft lips brush over mine, stirring me out of my thoughts, and I sigh into his touch.

“I’ll stay with you, until your dad gets here. Rest now.”

I nod and close my eyes. I’m exhausted, and with Ethan here I finally feel safe.

*****

It’s been three months since I got shot and Ethan is taking me out tonight for a slap-up meal, as he put it. True to his word, he’s given me space, but he also asks me every few weeks if I want to move in with him yet. I always say I’m not ready, but I spend a lot of time at his house, and I’m starting to think I’m ready. Maybe. Except, he still hasn’t told me he loves me. And I don’t want to just be his roomie, because I do love him. I’ve fallen for him so hard it hurts.

Dad went apeshit at first when he heard everything, and he forbade me to see Ethan. But once he found out exactly what went down, and how Ethan had sorted things out, both for me and for Dad, helping him avoid possible jail time, he came around.

It’s been hard to adjust to knowing my dad isn’t a perfect man. He’s flawed, deeply flawed. He may have been a loving father, but his business dealings were seriously unethical. Still, he’s been trying to claw his way out of that for years, and now thanks to Ethan, he’s got an out.

Uncle Dave was badly beaten one night, while walking home from the pub. No one knows who did it. The local paper carried the story, but Dave swears he didn’t see his assailant. Ethan didn’t say a word, but his knuckles were scraped and bloodied the day after. I know he did it, and I don’t care. I’m glad he did. I hate Dave now. And he’s received a warning--come after Dad and me again and he’ll get worse. So maybe I’m not all that ethical either? Rick has moved away, suddenly and again, mysteriously. I think Ethan had something to do with that, too.

I glance at my reflection. I’m wearing a floaty tea dress, but one I own this time, with block heeled sandals, a few bangles on my arm, and on my left wrist a new Tag watch my dad bought me. I’ve curled my hair for a change and put on some light make-up. I look much better these last few weeks. It took me ages to recover from the surgery. I was so exhausted. The doctors said my body had been through so much it needed more time than usual to recover. Ethan was great in those early days and would come around, once Dad had thawed out to him, and sit on the sofa with me watching cheesy movies and eating ice-cream.