Free The Morning After by Sally Clements

cooked it because Cara was incapable of doing much more than heating a can of soup. Ethan’s mind flashed back to the hours they’d spent across the pine table in his mother’s kitchen. He’d always made brunch, and she’d always brought the Sunday papers.
    The realization hit him that the moments with Cara had been what he’d looked forward to all week, and she’d never let him down. Had been there, rain or shine.
    “I’ve expanded my repertoire,” Ethan said.
    “Oh, have you?” The teasing tone in her voice hinted at things unspoken. “Well, I guess after so many years…”
    “I’ve grown up.” Ethan clutched the steering wheel.
    In the years since he left Ireland, he’d had plenty of time to enjoy a different life. Many different women. And from the moment he’d pulled her out of that damned costume, and felt her warm curves, his feelings for Cara had deepened and intensified. There was no way he could deny it to himself any longer. He wanted her with a soul-deep longing that tangled his insides and turned his brain to mush. And try as he might, there was no stuffing that particular genie back in the bottle.
    ****
    Flirting was fun.
    And when you knew the person almost as well as you knew yourself, it was darned irresistible. Cara could tell by the glint in Ethan’s eye, the way his body shifted on the black leather seat as she laughed, that he was feeling the tug of attraction too.
    She gazed out of the window, tilted her head up toward the blue sky, and felt her spirit soar like a bird high above. She could feel the smile on her face, and with another man, might have felt embarrassed to be so goofy, but with Ethan…
    “Enjoying yourself?”
    “Oh, you have no idea how much.” She stretched her arms out in front of her, and rotated her wrists. “Being here is wonderful.”
    The dark skies and blacker mood that had pressed down on her in Donabridge, had been banished ever since she walked through the doors and saw him lounging against a pillar, waiting for her.
    Once, it would have been as natural as breathing to tell him that being with him was wonderful. She would have kissed his cheek, or reached for his hand. But the attraction, slow-burning through her core, sending little tingles through her, stilled her voice in her throat. Saying such things meant more, somehow, now.
    She hadn’t wanted things to change between them. But it had. The moment she’d seen him in Donabridge. And right now there was no way she wanted to turn back the clock. “I like your hair.”
    Ethan’s dark eyebrows rose. “I can’t wait to cut it,” he growled in a voice so deep that it sent shivers through her. “One more week.”
    “Will you leave it long—for me? Just until I go.” She hadn’t given much thought to how long she was staying; the ticket he’d sent was one way. “I’m just going to stay for a couple of weeks. Is that all right, you won’t be fed up with me by then?”
    “I want you to stay for longer. At least a month,” Ethan said. “I need you to help get my house sorted. I’m working all next week, so you’ll be alone a lot of the time.” He glanced over, and his mouth tilted in a smile so familiar her heart stuttered.
    “So, I’ll be slaving away while you’re out enjoying yourself?”
    “That just about covers it. I’m a real slave driver.”
    A house on the beach, sun, sand, sex popped into her mind and she shook her head quickly to dispel it.
    “Seriously, Cara. I’m sorry everything has gone so badly. I want you to take some time out. To re-evaluate.”
    Cara’s mood burst like a balloon full of fanciful dreams striking a pin. She’d been fantasizing about a crazy affair while Ethan obviously felt nothing but guilt and pity for his old friend. Sure, he’d flirted, but he was incapable of not flirting, once someone else started it. He’d bedded all his leading ladies, hadn’t he?
    Her mouth dried. Thank goodness, she hadn’t embarrassed herself by throwing herself at