Brave Love Page 13

  She and David stayed for half an hour before Debra stood up. “You look tired. Get some rest, all right?” She kissed her son. “We’ll stop by again in the morning.”

  “It’s nice to see you here again,” Debra said once she, Paige, and David had gone back downstairs.

  Guilt fluttered in Paige’s stomach. What did Debra think about their breakup?

  “I’ll rest easier knowing he’s in good hands,” Debra continued, melting away some of Paige’s guilt with the compliment.

  Ethan’s mother then put a hand to her chest, as if trying to steady herself. “I’m going to cook something, maybe some soup, soup always helps you heal faster. And maybe I’ll make some of Ethan’s favorite dessert. He always did love my pecan pie. I’ll bring it when I come over tomorrow.”

  Paige smiled. As she stood on the porch and waved good-bye to Debra and David, it occurred to her that she cared more for Ethan than she’d ever dreamed possible.

  But was it fair to Ethan to saddle him with someone as messed up as she was? She still wasn’t sure.

  • • •

  That night, Paige found a box of pasta and some jarred spaghetti sauce in Ethan’s pantry. She cooked it and brought a tray up to him. After he’d eaten, she helped him change into his pajamas.

  He grimaced when he shifted positions on the bed.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Fine.” He looked up at her. “Where are you going to sleep?”

  She bit her lip as she considered the question. Where was she going to sleep? “Um, the sofa.”

  Ethan nodded toward the other side of the bed. “Just sleep here.” When she didn’t answer, he closed his eyes and scrubbed a hand over his face. “You can trust me,” he said, his voice strained. “I’m not going to touch you.”

  Paige squeezed her own eyes closed. “It’s not that.”

  “What is it, then?”

  She opened her eyes. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him; she trusted Ethan implicitly. But being so close stirred up so many things. So much desire. It was herself she didn’t trust.

  Running her gaze over his face, she blinked hard as she noticed beads of moisture on his forehead. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine.”

  “But you’re sweating.”

  His jaw clenched. “I could use a pain pill, that’s all.”

  Turning on her heel, she made a beeline for the bathroom. What was wrong with her? Did she really need to be arguing with him? So stupid. She filled a tumbler with water, grabbed the pill bottle, and hurried back to him.

  “Get some rest, all right?” she whispered once he’d swallowed some medicine.

  He nodded, then settled back into the pillows.

  Paige was downstairs cleaning up the kitchen when Ethan’s words replayed in her head. God, she wanted so much to share his bed again. It would be so nice—feel so safe—to curl up next to Ethan’s warmth.

  With a sigh, she finished cleaning and then turned off the lights. By the time she made it back upstairs, Ethan was already asleep. She stood a few feet away, studying him. It really didn’t make sense to be on the first floor, so far from him. What if he needed something in the middle of the night?

  And that was all the rationalizing she needed. She got ready for bed and went back into the bedroom. Pulling back the covers, she slid in next to Ethan.

  • • •

  When Paige blinked her eyes open the next morning, Ethan was already awake.

  “Morning,” he said, his voice gruff.

  Cursing herself for leaving his prescription in the bathroom, she quickly sat up. “Do you need more medicine?” She should have left the bottle next to him.

  “No.”

  She studied him, unsure of whether he’d even tell her if he was in pain. Ethan had been pale in the hospital, but his coloring looked better now. Staying with him had obviously been the right thing to do.

  David had been understanding when she’d told him she’d be taking the week off. For once, she had no interest in work. She was solely focused on Ethan and his recovery. Spending the days with him was finally helping to ease the knots of pain she’d felt since their breakup.

  But hopefully he would heal quickly, because the worry for him was driving her crazy. She was so used to Ethan being strong and in control, that seeing him practically helpless made her heart hurt for him.

  • • •

  The next day, since Ethan was doing better, Paige went into work for a few hours. The last video for Cox Wellness was still in production, and David had questions only Paige could answer.

  By the end of the morning, she had everything back on track. She left the office and went to the deli around the corner to get sandwiches for her and Ethan.

  She hadn’t been standing in line long before she realized the man standing in front of her was the bartender Tom Bradshaw. He turned around with a frown after she said his name. Ignoring the scowl on his face, she asked him how he was.

  Instead of answering, he asked, “You’re seeing that cop again, aren’t you?”

  She frowned, wondering how he even knew. But it had to be something he’d heard from Melissa.

  “Yes.”

  His eyes narrowed, he said tersely, “So, it was just me then.”

  Her heart beat hard as she struggled to come up with a response. A moment later, a worker at the counter called out, “Next.” Without another word, Tom turned and stalked away.

  Paige was left staring, unsettled at his bitterness.

  Chapter 42

  As he had each morning since he’d been shot, Ethan had woken with the sense that he’d dreamed something important. But the details were still stuck in his subconscious.

  The sight of Paige lying next to him sent a hot current spiraling through him. He forgot about the dream. Paige stirred and then blinked her eyes open. Concern flashed over her face and she sat up.

  “Do you need a pill?”

  Ethan told her he was fine. He still felt the pain, but it was lessening each day. For once, he wanted his head clear.

  A minute later, she left the room, saying she was going to make breakfast. Careful not to put too much weight on his right side, he sat up. One thing was for certain. If he had to stay lying down any longer, he was going to lose his mind.

  Gritting his teeth, he waited for a cloud of dizziness to pass before pushing himself off the bed. Walking over to the window, he looked down at the street. When Paige returned with a tray several minutes later, he was still standing there.

  “Ethan! What are you doing? Get back into bed!”

  “I’m fine.”

  She set the tray down and put a hand on her hip.

  He gestured toward the bed. “If I lie there anymore, I’ll go crazy.”

  “You can just sit up then.”

  “No.”

  Paige sighed and muttered something that sounded distinctly like the word stubborn. But she didn’t argue any further.

  • • •

  Over the next two days, Ethan ventured out of the house, much to Paige’s chagrin. The first day he made it as far as the backyard. The second, he accompanied her on an errand. Despite her worries, he seemed to be doing fine. The outing hadn’t exhausted him.

  On Thursday night, they watched a movie. After it ended, they sat in silence, but Ethan decided it was time to say something.

  “I wish you’d told me,” he finally said.

  They’d discussed things a little the night before he’d been shot. Or was it more accurate to say she’d discussed them? He had mostly listened, and he still had questions.

  She swallowed hard. “I didn’t want you to feel sorry for me.”

  Ethan frowned. “Feel sorry for you? Damn it, Paige. You’ve seen me at my worst and you haven’t run away.”

  Ethan took in a long breath, then leaned toward her. Dipping his head down, he brushed her lips with his. Christ, he’d missed that softness. What he’d meant as a light, comforting kiss deepened.

  S
top it. She doesn’t want this.

  But when he finally managed to pull away, fear wasn’t the emotion he read on Paige’s face. She looked just as captivated, just as frenzied. Unable to help himself, he met her lips again.

  Before he knew it, they were upstairs in his bedroom. The constant throb in his shoulder was forgotten as they lay down together. She helped him take off his shirt and pants before stripping down to her underwear.

  Ethan closed his eyes in wonder. They were actually doing this; Paige wanted it too.

  “Which way is best for you?” she asked.

  But he was more concerned about her. “Straddle me.” Reaching out with his good arm, he steadied her as she climbed on top of him. This position would give her the control he wanted her to have. He’d help her balance, but the rest would be up to her.

  Paige fingered the stitches no longer covered by a bandage, and locked her eyes onto his.

  “I’m fine.” The last thing he wanted was for his injury to spoil the moment.

  As he gripped her waist, his shoulder protested. Taking a steadying breath, he dug his head into the pillow, and the shot of pain subsided.

  “You’re in control, Paige,” he said.

  From now on, she would always feel comfortable with him. He’d do everything in his power to ensure it. There would be no more misunderstandings.

  Chapter 43

  The next morning, Paige went into the office again for a few hours, so Ethan decided to visit Bryan. The doctor had suggested Ethan wait another week before attempting to drive, but he felt up to it. Picking up his car keys, he walked out to his truck.

  Backing out of the garage jarred his arm. Other than that, the drive went well.

  “I wanted to visit you,” Bryan said after he answered the door. “My mom wasn’t sure if I’d be bothering you, though.”

  “I came by to thank you,” Ethan said after they’d walked into the living room. “James was my best friend. Because of you, his fiancée and family have closure.”

  Bryan looked away as his cheeks flushed. “I really didn’t do anything.”

  “You did. Without your help, we’d still be looking for him.”

  Ethan stayed with Bryan for a while longer, catching up with what was going on with the boy in school. When he asked about the contest, Bryan told him he’d sent in the video but was still waiting to hear.

  As Ethan pushed up from the sofa to leave, he said, “I hope it’s okay to call you once I’m back to doing the renovation.”

  The teen nodded and Ethan headed for the door.

  “Ethan?”

  He turned back.

  “It was a hit-and-run driver that hit my dad,” the boy said, his voice cracking. “We never got closure, so I know what it’s like.”

  Ethan blinked hard before walking back toward Bryan. Until he learned more, he wasn’t going anywhere. They sat back down, and he found himself falling into his interview routine, asking questions just like he would of any victim.

  It was time Bryan’s family got some answers.

  • • •

  Ethan found Paige pacing the living room when he finally got home.

  She rushed toward him. “Where were you?”

  “I went to see Bryan.”

  Had he known he’d been this long, he would have left her a note. The extra time he spent with the boy took longer than he’d anticipated.

  “I tried to text you . . .” Her face morphed into astonishment. “Wait a second. You drove there?”

  He nodded and she continued to stare at him. It was as if she couldn’t quite wrap her brain around what he was saying. “Ethan, you were shot not even a week ago!”

  “And I’m fine now.”

  She shook her head before muttering something. This time, Ethan was sure he heard the word stubborn.

  Paige glanced back up at him, narrowing her eyes as she declared, “I could have driven you.”

  Closing the distance between them, he gave her a hug. Paige’s concern for him warmed his heart, but the last thing he wanted was for her to be upset with him. “I know my limits,” he said softly as he gazed down into her eyes, “and it was fine.”

  He backed away to read her expression before adding, “I still need your help, though. So please, don’t even think about leaving.”

  She gave him a quick nod, taking what he’d said seriously. Which was good, because he was. Completely serious.

  • • •

  Two days later, Paige went into work again, and Ethan took the opportunity to visit the police station in Garvin, where Bryan lived. He was ushered into the captain’s office after he arrived.

  Ethan shook the captain’s hand. “I’m an officer in Bennington.”

  “I remember you,” Captain Robinson said. They’d been introduced at an event both departments had covered a few months before. “How can I help you?”

  “There was a hit-and-run on Schilling last year. A man in his forties.”

  The captain nodded.

  “I know the man’s son,” Ethan went on, “and he’s been having a really hard time without his dad. I was wondering if I could look into the case.”

  As the captain’s brow furrowed, Ethan hoped there wouldn’t be a problem. Helping get closure for Bryan’s family had become important to him, and he didn’t want to let them down.

  Clearing his throat moments later, the captain finally said, “If it’s okay with Captain Liu, then it’s okay with me.”

  Ethan nodded. He couldn’t imagine his captain not being okay with it. “Thank you, sir.”

  Half an hour later, after checking with his captain and getting his okay, Ethan sat in the Garvin department’s conference room, poring over files. When Bryan’s father, Jack Potter, had been found on Schilling Street, it had been storming. A woman had seen him lying in the middle of the road and had stopped to help. By then, though, it had been too late.

  Ethan studied the autopsy report. The vehicle that had hit Mr. Potter, most likely an SUV, had left not only normal bruising, but also a distinctive pattern on his thighs. Pictures were attached to the file. He pulled a notepad out of his jacket and scribbled some questions, then left the conference room to return the files. Once done, he headed over to the Potter home.

  Bryan wasn’t there, but his mother, Kathy, was. She invited Ethan in, eager to answer his questions. Bryan had let her know about their conversation.

  “Did your husband run often?”

  “He did. A couple of times a week.”

  “And what can you tell me about that morning?”

  A pained expression came over her face. “It was only raining lightly when he went out. He said he wanted to work off the extra couple of pounds he’d gained over the holidays.”

  “He was found on Schilling.”

  Kathy nodded.

  “Was that the street he typically jogged on?”

  “Yes. Usually he’d run up Arguello, cross over on Schilling, and come back down Bartlett. The route is a circle around our house.”

  Ethan nodded; that made sense. When he didn’t have time for a more scenic run, he also ran a path that circled his house.

  Kathy sighed. “He always wore something reflective and faced oncoming traffic.”

  They spoke for a few more minutes before Kathy said, “I really appreciate your looking into the case further. The detectives who’ve been working on the case did their best, I’m sure, but it makes me feel better to know you’re taking another look.”

  “No problem,” Ethan said. “I’m glad to be able to help.”

  When he stood up to leave, Kathy ushered him to the door. As he stepped onto the porch, she said, “Officer Cole?”

  He turned around, and she gave him a sad smile. “Thank you for spending so much time with Bryan. He’s had a tough time since his dad passed away, and . . . well, I’m just glad you’ve been there for him.”

  Ethan ducked his head and returned her smile, then headed to his truck.

  This time when he got hom
e, Paige was still at work. Sitting down at the dining table with his laptop, he brought up a map of the streets surrounding the Potter house. Fowler was a parallel street to Schilling, and the two were separated by a quarter mile of undeveloped woods.

  If it had been Ethan trying to work off the holidays, he would have run the longest route possible, despite the weather. This was Oregon. The rainy season lasted quite a few months and didn’t necessarily stop runners. They wore gear for inclement weather.

  In fact, Potter had been wearing a waterproof hooded jacket. His wife had also noted it was only drizzling when he’d left the house.

  Ethan continued to study the map. There was something about that stretch of woods that had him thinking. Was it possible Potter had been hit on Fowler instead of on Schilling? Had he been injured, then cut through the woods in an effort to get home quicker?

  When Paige arrived home twenty minutes later carrying a bag of takeout, Ethan was still sitting in front of the screen. He set aside his papers and the laptop and helped her set the table. While they ate, he told Paige his theory.

  “Tomorrow, I’m going to see if I can find any evidence on Fowler Street.” The first rains of the season brought out oils on the street, making things slippery. If the driver had slid into Bryan’s dad, he might have also hit a tree.

  Paige’s brows drew together as she studied him. “You’re sure you’re up to this?”

  He nodded, hoping to dispel her worry. He might not be back to one hundred percent, ready to go back to work and chase down perps, but he could definitely handle a casual inquiry into this one case.

  • • •

  The next morning, Ethan drove into Garvin and parked on Fowler Street. It was an unseasonably warm day. The sun was shining brightly.

  In November, when Potter had been hit, the trees had been mostly bare. Potter hadn’t been bleeding much, the report had shown. If blood had dripped onto any of the fallen leaves, it had likely been washed away in the winter rains. But the trees themselves were another matter. If one had been hit, damage should still be visible.