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But that’s not what’s really bugging him.
His eyes moving from me to his phone and then back again, telling me he has Ethan-sized problems to deal with.
Even on a Saturday.
“I was just trying to surprise you with something,” I murmur, moving over to him as the clerk suddenly finds something he has to do at the other end of the store.
“You can do that,” Ethan says, softening his features and creasing the edge of his mouth for my benefit.
But I can see something’s got him worked up more than someone else thinking he’s my dad.
“What is it?” I ask, worried I’ve done something or made trouble for him somehow.
But he only shakes his head, slipping his phone back into a new pair of jeans I hadn’t even noticed he had on.
“It’s just… Just a work thing. I’ll deal with it after,” he sighs, forcing a smile and raising both his brows. Urging me to tell him what I think of his new outfit.
“You’d look great wearing anything,” I remind him. But still doing a little double-take as I scanned him head to toe.
Jesus, he really is perfect.
Denim, leather boots, and a plain blue shirt.
It would just be clothes on anyone else, but with Ethan’s muscular frame and height, yummy. His dark penetrating eyes and chiseled jawline give him the look of someone who’s just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine.
It’s a habit now, but I can’t help focusing on his ever-present pant bulge, the sign of a real man in between his thick, muscular thighs.
“Too tight?” he muses aloud, mumbling that they should stretch out some with wear.
But he shoots me another look that reminds me he doesn’t intend either of us to wear clothes for longer than we have to.
“You look great,” I tell him. It sounds like I’m congratulating him when it’s me who feels like I’ve won the hot guy lottery.
But Ethan’s not one to fish for compliments, and sensing my mood, he pulls me close, giving any other store clerks who might think he’s my dad something else to think about as he kisses me.
“I just heard from my…from one of my attorneys,” he says. Letting his eyes stray past me. Off to a point in his world, I know nothing about.
“Bad news?” I ask, wincing. I'm hoping it’s not going to be one of those ‘and now I have to leave because something just came up’ type scenarios.
Like a rescue call, you make to a friend when you wanna ditch a date.
But Ethan would never do that, and I can see he’s mad as hell about something. But it’s nothing to do with me.
“Not yet,” he says optimistically. “But it looks like our casino boss, Levenson, has more sway over my accountant than I thought,” he muses.
As much as Ethan wants to brush it off, I think he’d feel better if he told someone.
“Can you tell me about it?” I ask.
Trying hard to sound like I could understand or even do something to help when clearly I’m a nobody when it comes to Ethan’s financial problems.
“Let’s talk about it over lunch,” he suggests, scratching at his toned stomach before asking if I don’t mind going without getting him a surprise.
“I kinda ruined it for ya, didn’t I?” he says apologetically, reaching for his wallet at the counter.
Closing his eyes and muttering a curse when his card is declined.
“It’s fine,” he clips to the cashier, “I’ll pay cash….”
Opening my mouth to say something, I think better of it.
Worried to see Ethan so annoyed. But more worried he might be in some kind of trouble. Or worse.
But Ethan’s sure hand on my hip as we leave when he pulls me close is enough for me to know he’s a man of his word. And talking about it over lunch instead of in a menswear store is just what he does.
Trusting me with more personal information about himself than I’m sure he’s ever told, anyone.
“My accountant, Vince…,” he starts, almost spitting the name as his eyes narrow once we’re sat at a window table in a steak house just off the shopping complex.
“…He was pressuring me to invest in Saul Levenson’s casino. It’s why I originally came out here this weekend,” he continues, but I can’t help interrupting.
“Until you met me,” I groan, somehow just knowing this is surely my fault.
But Ethan doesn’t see it that way. And he gives his head a little shake before going on.
“I’ve had my suspicions about Vince for years, but the casino investment idea was so… so sudden. So off the wall compared to my regular estate dealings, I smelled a rat before I got on the plane.
“What’s he done, this accountant?” I ask, suddenly drawn into the drama, already knowing that Ethan will be the hero somehow.
He has to be. I mean, just look at him.
