Rare Blend (Red Mountain #1)

16. Marisa

CHAPTER 16

Marisa

ADAM SANDLER GETUP

T he work week flies by. Between getting trained at the Herald , scouring job postings for anything that fits within my skill set, and making a better attempt at spending time with my dad and Jenn and the kids, I’m very ready for the weekend.

I’ve only run into Ethan twice since Monday night, just in passing. So far, we’ve managed to get along, to be friendly even. A win, if you ask me.

My plan for this very wild Friday night is to wear the largest, baggiest sweats I own, eat an entire box of Cheez-Its for dinner, and binge watch some trashy reality TV.

I get bundled up on the couch, set up with all my needs for the evening, when my phone decides to be a total buzz kill and go off. I look to see who’s calling me. I’m a little surprised and more than curious.

“Hello?”

“Hey, girl!”

I sit up straighter, my mind slowly wrapping itself around the familiar voice. “Zoe?”

“Yes, girl, did you forget about me already?”

“No, I’m surprised to hear from you, that’s all.”

“Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Nope, I was about to do a little Netflix and chill by myself.”

She laughs. “Sounds like my kind of night.”

I like Zoe. She was my work bestie, but we never really spoke or hung out much outside of work, save for the occasional happy hour.

“So, what’s up?”

“I’m calling to let you know the new company I’m at is going to be hiring a technical writer after the holidays, and I think the role would be perfect for you. This place is so much better than you know where .”

My heart jumps. A job. A real fucking job may have just landed in my lap.

The possibility of a job is exactly the kind of motivation I need to keep going. The holidays are right around the corner, and soon enough they’ll be done and over with. A light at the end of the tunnel starts to flicker. Finally, some good news.

Zoe goes on to explain what happened after they let me go. It turns out Brandon wasn’t totally lying about everything like I assumed he was, and she, along with twenty other staff members, got laid off. And because she’s a networking queen, she was unemployed for all of five minutes before she landed herself at a better company with better pay. Some people have all the luck.

I’m about to say something, to thank her for thinking of me, but she cuts me off.

“Anyway, I wanted to tell you, because I noticed you hadn’t updated your LinkedIn to show you were working somewhere else. I figured you were probably still looking. Check your email. I sent you all the details. We’ll talk soon. Okay? Bye, girl. Love you.”

She hangs up before I can get another word out.

A rush of adrenaline courses through me. Soon enough, I’ll be back to my old life. I can feel it.

I’m too excited to continue on with my show, so I FaceTime Hillary instead.

She answers right away, dressed similarly to me and also splayed out on the couch. “I see we both have very exciting Friday night plans,” she says with a giggle.

“I’ll take this any day over standing in the pouring rain, waiting in line outside some club or bar on Capitol Hill.”

Snorting, she nods in agreement.

“I might have some news,” I tell her. “Nothing concrete yet, but there’s hope.”

She sits up straighter. “Spill, tell me everything.”

I repeat the phone call from Zoe.

Hillary claps excitedly when I finish. “See, I told you everything would work out.”

“I don’t have the job yet. I don’t even have an interview.”

“Pshh, semantics. You’re going to get that interview, and you’re going to nail it, and then you’ll be back in Seattle in no time. And then we can go back to have girls’ nights and the occasional brunch. I mean, I know I’ll have a baby, but I still need time with my bestie.”

I should feel relief at the thought of going back home, yet a shot of panic grips me, leaving me uneasy. This feeling must stem from worries about finances and the stress of packing once again to move back across the state. It has nothing to do with the charming little town that’s grown on me, or getting to see my dad again and slowly working on repairing our relationship, or actually enjoying my job at the Herald . I knew coming here was temporary, yet I find myself getting attached. My mother’s warning replays in my head. Don’t get distracted and end up stuck there.

My mom is right. I need to focus and not let my fears prevent me from going forward with the plan. And the plan is to go back to Seattle, where I belong.

Hillary and I chat a while longer, her eyes growing heavier and heavier before we call it and say our goodbyes.

I dig out my laptop from my work bag and see Zoe’s email at the very top of my inbox. It goes into greater detail, explaining day-to-day duties and responsibilities. What really catches my eye is the pay. It’s significantly higher than what I was making. So much so that I’m questioning whether Brandon was underpaying me. I wouldn’t put it past him. The application takes me no time. I’m a pro at them now that I’ve applied for more jobs than I can count.

I continue watching my show, but it feels like trying to read while distracted—re-reading the first sentence over and over without it ever sinking in. The job is everything I could want, so why is my gut telling me it’s not the right move? I wish I could trust myself and my instincts more, but they need to be recalibrated. I trusted Brandon implicitly, and look how that turned out. Evidently, I’m off kilter, and my gut is just as wrong as my heart, putting trust where it doesn’t belong.

The following morning, I’m woken by a knock on my door.

I assumed it would be my dad, trying to drag me on some “family outing” he was hinting at the other day, but instead a tall brunette woman is standing on my doorstep. She looks about my age and like a literal supermodel. Her body is tall and lean, and she has the most stunning light-green eyes. They look like they’re lit from within. She’s wearing an effortlessly cool, all- black outfit. Meanwhile, I answer the door in an Adam Sandler getup.

“Hi.” She smiles. “I’m so sorry. Did I wake you?”

I shrug. I should’ve been up, anyway. It’s after nine. “No worries. Is there something I can help you with?”

“I’m Elyse. You’re Marisa, right?”

I’ve become accustomed to everyone automatically seeming to know who I am. I suppose it’s a side effect of small town living.

I nod.

“I’m Ethan’s sister,” she continues. “I was wondering if you have a key to his place or know where he might keep a key?”

Of course she’s his sister. Either the entire family won the genetic lottery, or someone made a deal with the devil. I have yet to meet a Ledger who isn’t gorgeous. It’s bizarre. And how many of them are there?

I shake my head. “Sorry, I don’t have a key. And I have no idea if he keeps a spare.”

She frowns. “I’m supposed to let Goose out for a potty break and I lost my key.”

She looks genuinely upset, so I try to think of something that may be comforting. “Worse comes to worst. He’ll have a little accident inside, but he’ll be fine.”

Picturing burly Ethan wiping up a pee stain, or worse, a giant pile of dog shit right in the middle of his living room makes me want to laugh. It would be karma, really.

Her shoulders sag. “You’re probably right. I just feel bad.”

She stands with her hands on her hips, contemplating something. And then she looks at me, eyes bright with an idea. “You have a key to this cottage, though, right?”

“Yeah…”

“They were all built at the same time. Maybe they all take the same key?”

I doubt it, but it’s worth a shot, I guess.

I grab my key and hand it over to her, and we walk next door to give it a try.

She inserts the key, and it easily turns, unlocking the door. You’re kidding me. That actually worked?

The cottages were built at least twenty years ago, if not more. And this entire time, they’ve all taken the exact same key. Isn’t that a safety hazard?

“I can’t believe that really worked,” Elyse says.

“Me either,” I muse.

Once she’s inside, I start to turn around, but her voice stops me.

“You can come in with me. I like the company.”

She offers me a hopeful smile. Ethan may no longer despise me, but I’m not too sure how he would feel if he knew I was in his place without his permission. Before I can decide if it’s a bad idea or not, my feet are already dragging me in.

His cottage is a mirror image of mine. Completely the same, but flipped around. There’s nothing personal on the walls, and it’s tidy and bare, no indication that anyone actually lives here. I feel a touch of self-consciousness when I think of my place and the clothes I have scattered everywhere, the unpacked boxes, the mess of snack boxes on the counter.

Maybe I’ll add cleaning to my list of things to take care of today.

“Goose,” Elyse calls and then does a whistle. “Come on, boy.”

A sleepy looking Goose emerges from the bedroom.

“Time for a potty break.” She opens the door for him, and he slowly walks out.

“Doesn’t he need a leash?” Apart from the time I was lost, I’ve always seen Ethan have Goose on a leash.

She shakes her head. “Nah, Ethan is just paranoid about his precious child. That dog isn’t going anywhere.” She leans against the kitchen counter. “He’s always been super overprotective and worries about everything. I love my brother, but when you look up anxiety in the dictionary, there’s a picture of him right next to the definition.”

I give her a polite chuckle, but it feels wrong to even do that. From what Ethan shared, it’s clear his anxiety is a sensitive topic for him. Despite being his sister, I don’t think it’s something she should be making light of or joking about. If I knew her better, I might say something, but I ignore it for now.

“So, how are you liking this small-as-shit town?”

To that, I do genuinely chuckle. “It’s growing on me.”

“Yeah, I tried to leave, but it sucked me back in.” There’s no regret in her voice; she says it like she’s happy to be sucked in. “Growing up, I was so ready to leave. I hated it. I hated how everyone knew everything about me. When I got into the University of Washington, I was beyond excited. A fresh start with fresh people, people that haven’t known me since I was in diapers. I was ready for city living. And then, shocker, I hated it, but I toughed it out and graduated, and moved back not a second later.”

“I can see the appeal.”

She nods, agreeing. “The only thing that is shitty is a lot of my friends left and didn’t come back. My best friend, Scottie, she’s all the way over in Chicago, so I rarely get to see her.”

“Since moving here, I’ve been doing long distance with my best friend, too. It really does suck.”

Goose scratches at the door. She gives me an I told you so look, and we share a laugh.

She opens the door, and he happily trots back in.

“Well, not to sound like a kid on the playground, but if you ever need a friend, or a girls’ night, or anything like that, we should totally get together.”

I might need to take her up on that. Based on the information from Zoe, my stay here is going to be slightly longer than I was anticipating.

“I would like that.”

Later in the afternoon, I make the drive to Badger Canyon to pick up a very important and much needed item. A coffee maker. I decided I deserve it. I got my first paycheck and could really use the dopamine boost.

Not wanting to be tempted by everything else in the store, I opt for curbside pickup and then drive straight back to Red Mountain. I can’t let myself go too crazy with the spending after only one paycheck.

It’s not until I’m staring at the oversize box crammed in my trunk that I realize I probably should’ve ordered it online, because I don’t think I can get it inside.

It’s not that it’s too heavy, it’s that it’s too wide, and my arm span can’t handle it. I stare at it, trying to figure out what the heck to do, when I hear the familiar crunching of boots walking on gravel behind me.

“What are you staring at?” Ethan asks, his shadow looming over me.

Though we’ve come to a truce of sorts, I still tense slightly, waiting for him to flip the switch. Slowly, I turn to face him, unsure what expression I’ll find.

The expression I do see leaves me feeling more tense than if he wore the familiar scowl I’ve grown accustomed to. He’s looking at me with amused confusion. I don’t know what to do with that.

Flipping back around, I return my attention to the large box. “I bought this coffee maker and underestimated the size of the box,” I tell him, feeling much more comfortable with my back to him.

He chuckles, and the puff of air that releases with it fans across my neck, sending a trail of goosebumps down my spine. I thought I was uncomfortable around grumpy Ethan, but friendly Ethan has him beat.

“I was wondering what you were staring at. I assumed you hit something with your bumper and were assessing the damage.”

My head whips back at him. “I’m not that bad of a driver.”

He tilts his head at me. “Yes, you are.” He’s not standing particularly close, but the heat of his body is crowding me, increasing mine by a few degrees. A muscle in his cheek twitches as he tries not to smile.

I look down, not ready to see it fully bloom. “Anyway.” I cough then rapidly blink. “I was trying to figure out the best way to get it inside. I might unbox it here and bring it in part by part.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “You’re not doing that.” His brow arches with an expectant stare, but I don’t understand what he wants from me. His eyes flick to the box in my trunk. “If you could get the door, I’ll bring it in.”

“Oh… right.”

I step aside, and Ethan comes forward, his hand grazing my thigh. I look down at where his hand brushed, convinced I imagined it. There isn’t evidence to show one way or the other, so I shake the ridiculous thought and unlock the cottage door. I lean against it, watching as he effortlessly carries in the box. He holds it with flexed arms, and I force myself to focus on his face so I don’t ogle him.

His eyes slide to mine as he crosses the threshold with a silent thank you for keeping the door propped open. As he passes, his scent penetrates my senses, leaving me dizzy and glued to the entry.

He sets the box on the counter. “Where do you want this thing?”

I give myself an internal shake and join him in the kitchen. “There’s fine.”

The kitchen is small, but I’d already determined I would set it on the end of the counter next to the fridge.

“Fancy,” he comments, admiring the picture on the box.

“It was on sale,” I defend.

He shrugs, opening a drawer as if he owns the place—which I guess, technically, he does. Still, it catches me off guard. Had I known he’d be coming inside, I would’ve tidied up a bit. While he digs through the junk drawer, I discreetly try to clean up. A box there, a wrapper here, slowly picking up and discarding pieces of packaging. There are dishes in the sink, a musty towel on the bar counter, crumbs piled where I make my morning toast. My cheeks flush as I take in the mess. And that’s only the kitchen. There are laundry piles on the couch, shoes scattered, boxes stacked. What must he think of me?

When I look over at Ethan, I expect to see judgment, or disgust even. Instead, he’s reading the paperwork that came with the coffeemaker, not paying any mind to my mess.

“What are you doing?”

“Hmm,” he hums, distracted.

I join him in the kitchen and roll my lips, holding back a smile at the winsome, pensive look on his face as he reads. He meets my eyes briefly and then returns to reading.

“I’m looking over the instructions,” he says quietly.

I freeze, a little stunned. Some of the worst fights I had with Brandon stemmed from his refusal to read instructions. He would always repeat the same sexist line to me. Instructions are for women . A red flag if I’ve seen one.

I didn’t expect Ethan to stick around any longer than it took to drop off the box, let alone set up the coffeemaker for me. But that’s what he does, removing it from the box and then connecting all the pieces. It’s not complicated. I could’ve easily done it myself, but not having to do it at all and stand back and watch is nice. It’s more than nice.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

His shoulders rise, and he lets out a breath as if it was nothing. “I’m still groveling, remember?” He moves to put a pod in and sets a coffee cup under the drip. As he hits the start button, he shoots me a wink.

My mouth falls open. Who is this man?

The coffee presses out of the coffeemaker loudly, and Ethan works to clean up the plastic and packaging, but I’m still stuck on the wink.

He sets the box aside and hands me the cup of coffee. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

I take the cup from him and turn to grab my creamer out of the fridge. With my back to him, it’s easier to conceal the blush that’s heated my cheeks. When I turn back to face him, he’s waiting. His gaze is steady. Patient.

“It’s just a little weird, that’s all.”

His forehead crinkles. “What’s weird? The coffee?”

I haven’t tried the coffee yet. It’s honestly the last thing on my mind right now. I’m too distracted by the tall man, swallowing up my kitchen, shooting me winks, and making me feel flustered.

“You’re being nice and it’s weirding me out,” I blurt.

His head tips back, and a deep laugh rumbles out of him. My body jolts, completely unprepared. When our eyes collide, I find his vivid and strikingly clear as they regard me.

“First I’m too much of a dick and now I’m too nice?” He laughs again, shaking his head. “I told you I was going to be nice to you.”

“I know.” My voice is girlishly high. “I wasn’t expecting… I don’t know what I was expecting.”

He narrows his eyes playfully. “I’m trying to be nice.”

I pout. “Try less. I don’t know how to handle it.”

His eyes drop from mine, and his attention moves to my lips then lower, lazily tracking down, before coming back to my eyes again. “You can handle it.”

I swallow, and it feels like sand going down. The way he’s looking at me paired with this alternate personality I can’t seem to wrap my head around is setting me off balance. My body feels jerked into a heightened awareness, and a shiver runs down my spine, making me take a step back. I’m confused by what’s happening. Am I imagining an innuendo where there isn’t one and mistaking his stare as being more than friendly? I decide it’s in my head. It has to be.

Ethan watches me with curious intent. The weight of his observation makes me acutely aware of every small movement I make.

I take another step back, putting more distance between us. “Well, thank you for setting everything up for me. It was a very nice gesture.”

His lips tick up to a soft, barely there smile. “I should get going.

With a parting nod, he leaves. I take a deep inhale, breathing in the last of his lingering scent. A mistake I wish I could take back, because it’s already infiltrated my senses, rendering me more unsteady and uncertain than ever.