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Thirty minutes later, he was standing at Rue’s door. The Mustang sat in the drive. He gave it a wide berth, lest the woman next door have her nozzle handy. Once on the porch, he hit the buzzer and stood there, feeling more than a little bit awkward after the way he’d left. He wasn’t sure if Rue even wanted to see him, but he figured he owed her an explanation.
The door swung open. Rue still wore the clingy, form-fitting dress. Not typical Sunday afternoon attire. Most of the women he knew wore yoga pants on their down time, but not this one. She managed to look utterly comfortable in clothing that couldn’t be, and she stunned without an obvious trace of makeup. Except her lips. They were too pink, too perfect to possibly be a natural shade. Her blue eyes widened. “Ethan!”
“I needed to apologize,” he said.
She’d already stepped back, inviting him in even as she argued with him. “No, you don’t. I shouldn’t have dropped your name, especially after you said you knew of the charity and your mother was involved. Especially when…” She chewed on her lower lip, dragging his attention right back to trouble. Although looking in her eyes didn’t help much, either. “I didn’t think,” she said. “I mean, I couldn’t have known, but I didn’t have any right. And I’m so sorry for the…circumstances.”
The reference, while not unexpected, was like a punch to the gut. He was a man. A man who had lost someone, yes, but that wasn’t all he was, and he was sick of being pigeonholed by one tragedy—the very one everyone encouraged him to get over. How the hell did they expect him to do that when it was they who insisted on defining him by that loss?
And apparently they weren’t the only ones.
“What do you mean, circumstances?” He fought to keep his tone cordial. It wasn’t Rue’s fault, and he knew it, but the frustrations bubbled up anyway. He didn’t want her pity.
“Losing your wife,” she said quietly. “And today, of all days—I Googled you after you left. Had I realized, I never would have used your name, not that I had a right to do it in the first place.”
He ignored the deep pang that came with her acknowledging the date. Most people didn’t. “Actually, I’m glad you did.”
“You are?” She stared incredulously, though her tone was tinged with relief.
He hesitated. His intentions were good, but the step suddenly felt huge.
All the more reason to take it.
“I think we can help each other out,” he said.
Curiosity flickered in her eyes. She gestured for him to come in and sit, her gaze acutely on him as she closed the door and followed him to the sofa. “Do tell.”
He settled back against the cushions, then changed his mind and leaned forward, his elbows propped on his knees. The inside of her house, he noted, was as Spartan as the outside. Neat, clean, and more like a hotel room than a place anyone lived. The only thing she seemed to have in abundance was iced coffee.
But he hadn’t come back to ask why she had two cases of bottled Starbucks in her fridge. This was about him. And Amy. And… You can do this.
Hell yeah, he could. Because this would make his life easier, and he was all for that.
“You need a date,” he said, “and I need my family to think I’m dating someone. Not long term or anything.”
She snort-laughed. It was ridiculously adorable. “No problem there,” she said. “I’ll be on a plane in three weeks.”
His brow lifted. “Permanently?” This might be easier than he thought.
“Permanently on the plane?” Her face lit and her eyes danced, and he was struck by how pretty she was. And how stupid he sounded. “No,” she said, “but I’m leaving the city. I’m up for a photography internship, and if I don’t get that, I have a contingency plan. Either way I’m gone. But for what it’s worth, no one would believe I dated anyone longer than that anyway.”
“Why not?” He couldn’t imagine her being single for long. Not with a smile like that.
She sighed. “Every guy I’ve dated has proven to be a jerk once the novelty wears off. I mean, it has to be me, or it wouldn’t always happen to me, but some things just aren’t cool.”
