She asked again, “What is going on with you, Ethan?”
“Nothing. Come with me to the rehearsal dinner.”
She shrugged off his hands and made herself face him once more. “Look, I have a lot on my mind and a lot to do, okay?”
“Well, I know. But you won’t start on the cake until, like, the middle of the night or something, right? And you’ve got everything you need now to get the job done. I just thought, you know, why not take a break, come out and see the family?”
He was right, of course. Now the problem of assembling equipment and ingredients had been solved, she could make it to that dinner, no problem.
But she still felt that he was up to something. Even if he wasn’t putting moves on her. “You have some kind of plan. That’s it, isn’t it? You think that if you’re relentlessly charming and helpful and drag me with you everywhere you go, I’m going to give in and decide I don’t need to open my bakery, after all.” She kept her gaze on his handsome face as she spoke. And she saw how he glanced to the side. Yeah, it was only for a second, and then he was meeting her eyes again. But that slight shift away was enough. She knew then that she’d hit the old nail square on the head. “Hah,” she said. “That’s it. That is exactly what’s going on with you.”
“No. Wrong. That’s not true at all.” His square jaw was set and his eyes flashed with annoyance.
“Don’t lie to me, Ethan. I know what you’re doing.”
“How do you know that? Next you’ll be claiming you can read my mind.”
“We have an agreement. That’s not going to change.”
“It might.” He smiled then. A slow smile. The smile of a man who never let anything stand in his way when he wanted something, a man used to getting what he wanted in pretty much everything eventually. “You never know.”
“Ethan, are you listening?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll say it slowly. I’m not going to the rehearsal dinner, thank you.” She exaggerated each word, just to make sure he understood.
He leaned against the counter and folded his muscular arms over his broad, deep chest. “And that proves … what?”
“I’m not trying to prove anything. I just don’t want to go. I want to unpack these groceries and relax, go to bed nice and early. I intend to make Erin’s cake spectacular. I consider it a point of professional pride.”
“We both know it will be great because you’re baking it.”
“Thank you.”
“Come on.” His voice was soft again. “You have to eat dinner …”
“And I will. Here. Quietly. Alone.”
“Oh, what? Like it’s some kind of … Zen thing?” Now he was razzing her, pure and simple.
She kept her voice level when she answered. “Yes, Ethan. Let’s call it a Zen thing—in fact, you can call it whatever you want. What you need to get through your head is that I’m not going with you to that rehearsal dinner.”
“What if I said I wanted you there for professional reasons?”
“Well, that would be a flat-out lie. And I would still say no.”
Those fine lips of his curled in what could only be called a sneer. “These are supposed to be my two months, remember? You’re supposed to be doing what I want when I want it.”
Now she was getting a little bit angry. “Suddenly, I’m your … indentured servant? Is that where you’re going with this?”
He made a sound in his throat. An embarrassed kind of sound. Good. He should be embarrassed. “Uh. No. No, of course not.”
“Well, great. Because being your slave is not going to work for me, Ethan. Even though you’re about the best friend I’ve got in the world, and I want you to be happy, I need to be happy, too. I like a challenge and I’m thrilled to go the extra mile and create this cake for your new sister-in-law. But I will not be dragged to that dinner just because it’s part of your campaign to make me change my mind about what I want to do with my life. Do you understand?”
He no longer lounged against the counter. He’d drawn himself up straight. And for a moment, he looked as if he might continue the argument. But he caught himself. He raked a hand through that thick almost-black hair and muttered, “Gee, Lizzie. I didn’t mean for you to get all het up.”
She drew a slow breath and forced a wobbly let’s-make-peace smile. “I’ll say it once more. I’m not going. And can we be done with this conversation now? Please?”
Something hot and angry flashed in his eyes, his real feelings breaking the surface—and then vanishing again as fast as she had glimpsed them. “Gotta go,” he said dismissively.
And he did leave, just like that. He went around her and strode out through the arch to the hallway. She longed to stop him, to try and settle things for good with him, to somehow put an end to this strange tension and unrest between them.
But at that moment, she didn’t see how to settle anything. She told herself that at least she’d held her ground on the issue of the rehearsal dinner, that she’d explained to him—for the umpteenth time—that she was moving on and there was nothing he could do about it.
She decided, for now, just to let it be.
The rehearsal at Thunder Canyon Community Church started at four. Afterward, they all headed for the resort and the dinner in the Gallatin Room, which was the resort’s best restaurant.
Ethan, as one of the groomsmen, attended both functions. At the dinner, he ended up with his big brother Dillon—the best man—on one side and his mom on the other. Both his brother and his mom asked him if something was bothering him.
He lied and said, “Not a thing,” picturing Lizzie’s obstinate face in his head, promising himself that one way or another, she was going to see the light within the next eight weeks and realize she loved her job with him and could never leave.
After the dinner, almost everyone wanted to call it a night to be fresh for the big day tomorrow. Not the twins, though. Jackson and Jason were raring to go. They had plans, plans that consisted of continuing the all-night bachelor party from the evening before. They headed down to the Hitching Post to listen to some live music and party some more.
Ethan went with them. Not because he was dying to party so much, but because he wasn’t ready to go home. Home was where Lizzie was.
And tonight, that didn’t seem all that welcoming a place.
Plus, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on his younger brothers. They could get rowdy. Since Dillon had gone home with Erika, and Corey said he needed a good night’s sleep because he was getting married the next day, that left Ethan to step up and keep furniture and glassware from getting broken. Not to mention that someone had to be the designated driver.
Jackson, especially, seemed intent on having himself the wildest weekend on record. He’d been blessedly silent for the toasts at the rehearsal dinner. But at the Hitching Post, he raised one full glass after another. He toasted the picture of the almost-naked lady over the bar. And he toasted man’s freedom from apron strings and fancy weddings. He flirted shamelessly with every pretty woman in the place.
Ethan also met more than one good-looking woman that night. He flirted, too, a little. Why not?
But he didn’t have the heart to ask a pretty girl if she might like to come on home with him. Since Lizzie had been making noises about quitting, he hadn’t felt much like hooking up. Sometimes in life, even for a guy who liked women a lot,