His answer mattered. If he said the wrong thing, he had no doubt she’d kick him out and send him on his merry way. But he didn’t want to lie to her.
“I came because I couldn’t stay away. Because I think of you all the time. And because I can’t imagine a better way to end the day than being next to you.”
Her eyes softened, and she brought her hands up to frame his face. “Then I think you should pack your stuff.”
Her acquiescence had him blinking. “Really?”
“You matter to me, too. I think about you all the time, and I can’t think of any better way to start the day than waking up next to you. So yeah. Really. I think we should give this whole living together thing a trial run.”
Having his words reflected back left him feeling more than relieved. It felt right. And as she tipped her face up to his, he vowed he’d do whatever it took to keep deserving this. Deserving her.
Chapter 16
Miranda stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel. She’d shaved, rubbed, buffed, and moisturized every inch for tonight. She, who claimed to eschew romance, was positively giddy at the prospect of this dance. It was ridiculous. She hadn’t been this excited in high school. God help her if Norah got wind of it—she’d never let Miranda hear the end of it. There might even be chanting along the lines of “Miranda and Ethan sittin’ in a tree...”
From the bedroom, she could hear him on the phone. He needed to get his own shower if they were going to make the dance on time. Wrapping the towel around her body, she strode out of the bathroom to tell him so.
His eyes zeroed in on her and heated, though his tone didn’t waver. “I want extra patrols out at Monarch House.”
Miranda sobered, shooting Ethan a questioning glance. He just shook his head in a nothing-to-worry-about gesture.
“No, Cleveland. I am officially not on duty and not on call tonight. I do not want to hear from you for anything short of alien invasion or the zombie apocalypse.” He paused to listen as he trailed a finger along her still damp shoulder. “No, not for that either. The Sheriff’s Department is on notice to help out with anything that Darius and Rowan can’t handle on their own.”
Almost faster than she could blink, Ethan’s hand shot out and yanked away the towel, spinning her naked body against him. Miranda stifled a giggle and fought to give him a stern look.
“Mmmhmm. That’s right.” His hand skimmed down her back, over her butt, and squeezed.
Two could play at this game. Miranda pulled his shirt free and efficiently unzipped his pants, sliding her hands into his boxer briefs to cup his very fine backside.
“That should cover it. I gotta go. I better not be talking to you later.” Ethan clicked off the phone without a goodbye and tossed it on the dresser. “You smell amazing.” He buried his nose against her throat and continued exploring down to her legs. “Mmm, very nice.”
“What was all that about?”
“I was doing whatever I could to ensure we aren’t interrupted tonight.”
“A nice idea. What about the extra patrols out at the women’s shelter?”
“Lily Mae called earlier today and said one of her ladies thought she saw a prowler the other night. Might be nothing or might be something. There are any number of lowlifes who could be sneaking around out there to cause trouble for those women. I’m not taking any chances with them. But for tonight, all that is someone else’s problem. I gave orders.”
“Think it’ll work?”
“Hell if I know. But I’ve given everything to the job since I started in November. It’s time for you to come first. In more ways than one.”
When his hand headed up the inside of her thigh, Miranda shoved away. “As appealing an idea as it is to take you up on that right now, we don’t have time. You need to shower, and I’ve got to finish my hair and makeup before I get dressed.”
“You could come join me in the shower.” His voice dropped to that gravelly range that had her knees going weak.
“I am wise to your ways, Ethan Greer. If you get me in that shower, you will spend half the night making me scream, and we’ll never make it to the dance.”
His lips curved in a self-satisfied smirk. “You like it when I make you scream.”
“So much.” No sense in denying what he’d been proving on a regular basis. “But screaming can wait until later. Go get cleaned up, Cowboy.”
Ethan huffed out a sigh. “Fine. But I’m just gonna be devising more ways to torture you when we get home.”
Miranda moved over to her underwear drawer. “Promises, promises.”
Laughing, he headed for the shower. When it cut on a few moments later, she shot a glance at the bathroom door and gave in to the urge to heave a girly sigh.
He’d called this home. Maybe it had been just a slip of the tongue. She kept waiting for the idea of it to freak her out. She’d never cohabitated with a boyfriend before. She hadn’t even had a roommate since Norah. But the panic never came.
Ethan had slid so seamlessly into her life here. First into her bed, then into her house. Over the past couple of days, she’d made space in her closet, emptied some drawers. His razor and toothbrush sat on the bathroom counter, very clear reminders that she had someone occupying her space. And they looked right, somehow. Just as the boots that sat neatly by the chair looked right, as if they’d always belonged in that spot. The sight of them made her unreasonably happy. And that was just stupid.
Ethan living here was temporary. A trial run. Softer emotions aside, it was meant as a protective measure until he caught whoever was behind the vandalism. A necessary—to his mind—step for her safety. Was he enjoying the side benefits of that? She’d made sure he was. But that didn’t mean it was the legitimate next step in their relationship. She understood him well enough to recognize that he couldn’t separate her as a case from her as a woman. Oh, she absolutely believed he cared for her. But she couldn’t help wondering if they’d be here now if he didn’t think she was in danger.
Miranda didn’t like second guessing herself. It wasn’t like her not to just straight up ask where they stood. But she’d passed the point where the answer to that didn’t have the power to hurt her. She’d passed a whole helluva lot of points with Ethan, rushing headlong into l—no, she wasn’t in love with him. Was she?
You practically have cartoon hearts and little chirping birdies circling your head over the sight of his boots in your floor.
Oh God. She clutched the matching bra and panty set to her chest as her heart began to pound.
The shower switched off.
She shimmied into her underwear, willing her hands not to shake. This was only a disaster if he didn’t feel the same way. But what if he didn’t? What if this was all really just his protective instincts and they dissipated when he finally figured out who was harassing her and put a stop to it?
He came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his hips. “Is that what’s going underneath your dress? Damn, that’s gonna have me hot all night.”
Miranda forced her lips into a flirty smile. “That was the idea.” She could do this. Realizing she was in love with him didn’t change how they interacted. She’d just hang on to that piece of information until such a time as it made sense to tell him. When she was more certain of his feelings.