Page 33 of Tides of Change
Ethan’s voice broke through my haze. I blinked and glanced at him. “Sorry, what?” I cleared my throat to remove the tremor in my voice.
“That was just the inciting incident. Now we’re into the exposition and the introduction of crucial story elements.” He turned his head, and his eyes caught mine. Husky and low, he said, “But the rising action and climax are coming, so leave your arm there.”
A grin tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Well, when you put it like that…” I dared to let my hand fall to his shoulders, the solid warmth of him under my touch a mix of comfort and exhilaration.
Ethan’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile, and his gaze held mine for a beat too long. The sudden blare of a siren on the screen made us both flinch and broke the spell.
As the movie progressed, Ethan leaned against my side, his nearness welcome. He pointed out the beats of the story, his insights fascinating and eye-opening. I knew I’d never watch a movie the same way again.
By the time the movie reached its heart-pounding climax, I was fully engrossed. My palms were damp, and my heart raced—not just from the suspense, but from the subtle, quiet intimacy of Ethan pressed against me. The relief was almost overwhelming when the detective found the woman alive.
Ethan leaned forward to grab the remote and turn off the TV. I reluctantly dropped my arm from his shoulders, the loss of contact disheartening.
“Well, that gave Jake Slate a run for his money.” I broke the silence.
Ethan grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
I smirked and leaned back into the couch. “Your books are still the gold standard.”
“Have you read any other thrillers?” he teased and arched an eyebrow.
I scratched my temple, sheepish. “Well…no.”
Ethan burst into laughter. His belly laugh was infectious, and I chuckled at my own expense.
He scrubbed a hand down his face, laughter still bubbling up from deep within. “Oh, God. I needed that.” His shoulders shook with residual sniggers, his face lit with an ease I hadn’t seen in days.
I watched Ethan laugh, truly laugh, and it made my chest feel buoyant, as if I were finally doing something to lift the weight he carried. I couldn’t find his stalker yet, couldn’t give him the peace he deserved—but I could give him this. A few hours of safety, distraction, and companionship.
I sobered quickly at the thought of his stalker, but for Ethan’s sake, I kept a smile on my face. I vowed silently that I would solve his case, no matter how many leads went cold. He deserved to live without looking over his shoulder.
A rude yawn escaped before I could catch it. I stifled it quickly, embarrassed. “Sorry,” I muttered and rubbed the back of my neck. I didn’t want the evening to end. Being here, with Ethan, felt right in a way I hadn’t expected.
Ethan’s hand landed gently on my knee, and his warmth cut through the fabric of my jeans. “You must have had a long day. Don’t let me keep you,” he said, ever thoughtful. He had a wayof putting others first, even when he had every right to focus on himself. It was one of the many things I admired about him.
I stood reluctantly and stretched my arms overhead to shake off the pull of exhaustion. “I do need to get to bed,” I admitted. “Noah’s coming home early tomorrow morning, and we’ve got his classmate’s birthday party in the afternoon.” I rolled my eyes as if it were a burden. “Ten five-year-olds and their parents? Pure chaos.”
Ethan’s grin was knowing, and his lips quirked upward just enough to make my heart stutter. “You can’t fool me,” he said, low and warm. “You love being a dad. All of it.”
He wasn’t wrong. “I’d do anything for that boy.” I smiled, unable to hide my love for my son. I moved toward the entryway, and Ethan shadowed me.
I turned to thank him for the evening and caught his gaze. My breath hitched at the intensity I found there—longing, desire, and something deeper that sent a shiver down my spine. My heart thudded, and I wavered as the air between us thickened. He was waiting for me to decide, his stillness an invitation.
Did I want to take a further step toward the decision I wrestled with?
The answer came faster than I anticipated. Yes. I wanted it more than I could put into words.
My gaze dropped to his mouth, framed by his trim beard. Red highlights threaded through the bristles. My fingers itched to touch him, to feel the softness of that beard, to press against the fullness of his lips and taste whatever sweetness lingered there.
I swallowed hard, and my voice dropped into a register I barely recognized. “May I kiss you?”
Ethan didn’t answer right away, but his eyes darkened and his lips parted just slightly. He stepped closer, close enough that his heat seeped into me. His hand rose, hesitated for a moment,and then cupped my jaw. His thumb brushed lightly along the curve of my cheek.
“Yes,” he whispered as his breath mingled with mine.
I closed the remaining distance and captured his lips in a tentative kiss, gentle and testing. His lips were soft and yielding, and the unfamiliar texture of his beard sent a thrill skittering across my skin. Beard to stubble, man to man. So different from the silky skin of a woman’s mouth, and yet thrilling.
Ethan pressed closer. The kiss deepened, and his fingers slid into my hair as mine gripped his waist.
