Page 45 of Fight Or Flight

“I’ll get it,” Natalie said. “Give the delivery person something to gossip about in town.”

She walked to the front door just as another knock sounded. She grabbed the handle and pulled the door open with a dramatic flourish, but to her surprise, it wasn’t the pizza.

It was Ethan.

Natalie’s jaw dropped as Ethan’s dirt-smeared face morphed from an irritated look to one of shock. He raked his gaze from her eyes, down her body, then back up again. Finally, a grin overcame him.

“Hey there, Sandra Dee.”

Natalie swung the door closed, but Ethan’s hand shot out and held it open.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he said, then a laugh came out. Then another. Before long, he threw his head back and clutched his abs with his other arm.

She used his distraction to her advantage, put two hands on the door, and pushed it harder. “Go away,” she said.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, holding the door firmly open with little effort. He was a lot stronger than he looked. “What the hell are you wearing? Is this another one of your weird suitcase things I don’t understand?”

Natalie huffed out an annoyed breath. She refused to stand there losing more ground, uselessly pushing the door closed, so she stepped back, crossed her arms, and gave him a slow, annoyed blink.

“We’re having a pyjama party. I borrowed this because I don’t own pyjamas.”

Ethan lifted a finger under his glasses to wipe a tear away as his laughter slowly stopped. “You don’t own pyjamas?”

She shook her head. “Suitcase.”

Ethan audibly swallowed. His gaze dropped down her body as he reached his hand back to rub his neck. “Uh . . .”

Ben’s feet came slapping down the hall behind her, pulling her attention from Ethan’s searing gaze. She turned to look at him as he stopped in his tracks. “You didn’t bring any pizza?” he asked Ethan.

Ethan stared at him for a moment, then looked up at Chelsea, who followed behind Ben. “Hi, Ethan,” Chelsea said. “We thought you were the pizza delivery. This is my son, Ben.”

Ethan barely missed a beat. He held his hand down in a fist. Ben bumped it with his own little fisted hand. “Hi, Ben, I’m Ethan.”

“Hi. Are you here for our pyjama party?”

“No. I’m just here to talk to Natalie.”

“Aunt Natalie,” Ben corrected.

Ethan looked up at her. “Right.”

She stared at him for a moment, wondering what he wanted to speak to her about. He’d already given her his entire explanation about saving the town’s watershed. She’d figured she wouldn’t be seeing him again. A thought that was both a relief and a discomfort. Seeing him stand in front of her now, it was impossible to deny that she was happy to see him again.

“Come on, Ben,” Chelsea said, a little too loud. “Let’s have those Timbits.”

“Timbits!” he said, then ran off to the living room.

“Good to see you again, Ethan,” Chelsea said, before leaving Natalie and Ethan alone once more.

“Uh,” Ethan started, looking around as if he were lost. He was awkward, but, somehow, it lent to his attractiveness. She wanted to feel his body against hers again, then wondered what he would do if she leaped at him, and shook the thought away.

“Why are you here?” she asked. She meant for it to come out rude, but it came out breathy.

He cleared his throat. “To ask if you’d like to come to my parents’ house. For dinner. Tomorrow night.”

“Oh,” she said, taken slightly aback. A smile came over her face. Was he asking her out on an actual date? “Is this a date? Or part of your continued effort to save the snakes?”

“No, neither,” he said, with a shake of his head. His gaze dropped from her eyes down to his mud-caked boots.

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