AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I did,” I replied, a small smile dawning on my lips. “But my folks moved away while I was in college. They’re in Washington, DC now, working for a group of lobbyists.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Lobbyists, huh? Who do they work for?”
I shrugged, not really interested in the details myself. “I’m not into politics, so I don’t really keep up with it. But they seem happy there.”
Ethan nodded; his expression thoughtful as he processed what I’d said. For a moment, the conversation lulled, and we both focused on our food, but the air between us was still charged with an unspoken connection.
“Must be nice, having roots in a place like this,” he finally said, his voice low, almost contemplative.
“It is,” I agreed, meeting his gaze. “Cedar Cove has a way of getting under your skin. It’s home, even when you don’t realize it.”
We lingered at the table after dinner, the conversation flowing easily as we finished the bottle of wine. I found myself relaxing more and more, drawn in by his kindness and the way he seemed genuinely interested in getting to know me. But as the evening wore on, something shifted. I could see a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, something I hadn’t noticed before.
Taking a deep breath, I decided to be honest with him. “You know,” I began, my voice soft, “I’m still healing from a broken relationship. It’s been tough, and I’m not sure I’m ready to jump into something new, but… there’s something about you that makes me want to try.”
Ethan’s expression softened, and he nodded as if he understood exactly what I meant. “I get it,” he said quietly. “I’ve had my share of relationships, but there’s no one special in my life right now. I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but… I’m glad I met you, Natalie.”
His words hung in the air between us, filled with sincerity. There was no rush, no pressure, just a mutual understanding that we were both navigating uncharted waters.
When the evening finally came to an end, I walked Ethan to the door, my emotions a tangled mess of attraction and doubt. He turned to face me, his expression soft, and for a moment, I thought he might kiss me. But instead, he simply smiled—a smile that made my heart flutter.
“Thanks for dinner,” he said, his voice low and sincere.
“Thanks for helping and for the beautiful flowers,” I replied, returning his smile.
With a final, lingering look Ethan left, leaving me alone with my thoughts, still wondering what secrets he might be keeping.
I sighed as I closed the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment as I tried to process the evening. It had been… nice. More than nice. I wandered over to the couch, ready to relax and maybe lose myself in a book for a while. But just as I was about to settle in, my phone buzzed with a text message. I picked it up, my breath catching in my throat when I saw the name on the screen.
JASON: Hey, remember this day? It would have been the anniversary of our first date. Just thought I’d say hi. Are you doing well?
The message seemed casual, but I knew Jason too well—it was a deliberate attempt to stir up old emotions and keep me tethered to the past. Memories I’d fought to bury resurfaced, and I hated that he still had this power over me.
As I stared at the screen, the happiness I’d felt earlier began to fade, replaced by a gnawing uncertainty. I tossed the phone aside and curled up on the couch, determined to push away Jason’s lingering influence and focus instead on Ethan—the intensity of his smile, the comfort of his presence, and the possibility of something new.
Seven
Ethan
Two Weeks Later
“Got another paint job lined up for you, kid.”
I looked up from under the hood of the car I was working on, catching Joe’s grin from across the shop. I wiped the grease off my hands as he continued, “The president of the bank’s got an old Buick he wants to get show-ready.”
“A vintage Buick, huh? Sounds like a challenge.”
Joe chuckled, leaning against the workbench. He glanced at the chalkboard schedule and added, “Yeah, he’s real particular about it, too. Wants it perfect for the car shows coming up. You up for it?”
I tossed the rag onto the bench, feeling a spark of excitement at the prospect of working on something with a little history. “You know it. When does he want it done?”
Joe shrugged. “No rush, but you know how these car guys are—wants it looking good as soon as possible. Thought I’d let you handle it since you did such a damn fine job on that Mustang.”
“Thanks,” I said, appreciating the compliment. “I’ll get started on it tomorrow.”
Joe gave me a nod, then crossed his arms over his chest, a curious look in his eye. “So, you’ve been here, what, almost a month now?”
I wiped my hands on the rag again, feeling the shift in the conversation coming. “Yeah, something like that.”
