Free Save the Date by Susan Hatler Page A

to this girl pour her heart out to me, and hearing how much she loved human resources (ick), a calmness settled over me. I knew what I had to do.
    Putting a hand on Kaitlin’s arm, I said, “I know of an H.R. position that’s available.”
    And just like that, I was drowning again.
     

 
    Chapter Six
     
    “You’re sure I can’t help?” I sat on a barstool at Ethan’s house, peering over the island countertop as he diced green peppers and onions for dinner.
    I know I’d decided not to hang around Ethan, but why should I miss out on knowing this scintillating secret because of a few (delicious) kisses? I’m a grown woman, and I can resist temptation. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be a size four when my roommate stocks our kitchen with things like cheese puffs, donuts, cream cheese, apple fritters, and a freezer full of cookie-dough ice cream.
    Thank goodness Ethan was a health nut like me. It’ll be nice to eat a well-balanced meal without having to watch Gina chow on chips with nacho cheese sauce.
    “I’ve got the kitchen under control. But thanks.” Ethan chopped with precision, then dropped the veggies into a pan. “Finish telling me about the job you got, then gave away.”
    “I’d rather hear you dish about this top secret whatever-it-is, and why you never show anyone.” I sipped the ice-cold sparkling mineral water he’d poured me. “At least tell me if it’s an animal, vegetable, or mineral?”
    He tilted his head to the side as he moved the spatula around the pan. “Technically, it could be considered two of the three. Now I’ve answered a question. Your turn.”
    “How could it be two of them?” I protested, then sighed when he gave me a look, reminding me it was my turn. Fine. “The H.R. Manager position was a really great offer, but I wasn’t excited about it. Kaitlin has more experience and loves human resources, so she’s better matched for it.”
    He tossed a tortilla on another pan. “What about you?”
    “Nice try.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “My turn.”
    The corners of his mouth tipped up. “Go.”
    I watched him pull two plates out of the cupboard, and cursed myself for checking out his (mighty fine) backside. “Why do you keep your secret all hush-hush?”
    “There could be a question of ownership.” He scooped the tortillas onto the plates, then did the same with the sautéed veggies. “If word got out, it might get taken away from me, and I’m not going to risk that happening.”
    My eyes bulged. “It’s stolen?”
    “It was a gift, and now I get two questions in a row.” He carried our plates to the dining table, and called back to me. “Could you grab some silverware out of the drawer to the left of the sink?”
    “Sure.” I hopped off the barstool, and opened the drawer to the left of the sink. No silverware, only a messy pile of receipts, papers, and who knew what else. Even though Ethan might possibly be hiding something, it felt wrong invading his privacy. Instead of taking the opportunity to snoop, I forced myself my eyes away and opened the next drawer. “Got them.”
    When I turned around, I caught him watching me. “What?”
    He paused, as if trying to decide something. Then he said, “You stopped when you had the wrong drawer. Why?”
    My stomach clenched, but I walked toward him, and took a seat anyway. “I thought about rifling through it.”
His brows quirked, in that cute way they did when I’d confused him. “What for?”
    I gave him a duh look. “To see what you’re hiding.”
    The muscles on his jaw tightened. “Are you going to check my phone next?”
    Hearing my words thrown back in my face was like a slap. “You asked what I was thinking, and I was just being honest. It’s not like I actually did it.”
    “Here.” He reached into his pants pocket, pulled out his phone, and handed it to me. “Knock yourself out.”
    Holding his smart phone felt like owning his world. The pathway to anything I’d want to know about Ethan had to