like that, Beau’s warmth disappeared as he took a step back. Ethan was
gearing up to give Beau a piece of his mind when a truck door slammed, and
Ethan jerked to see who it was. Beau growled, low and intimidating. Something
Ethan had gotten familiar with. It was Beau’s possessive response he’d noticed.
And, damn it all to hell, he liked the sound way too much.
“Son
of a bitch,” Ethan groaned, his eyes locking with Blake’s over the hood of the
wrecker.
“What
the hell is he doing here?” Beau growled from behind him, the deep, gravelly
sound of his voice causing an influx of heat to build inside of Ethan.
“He
doesn’t know when to give up,” Ethan muttered as he walked away from Beau.
“What do you want, Blake? I’ve got shit to do today. I don’t have time for
this.”
“But
you have time for him ?” Blake asked, his green eyes narrowed to slits as
he stared past him at Beau.
The
guy looked like shit. And that was saying something because Blake had always
looked good. Always put together. A metrosexual, Ethan thought they were
called, Blake was known for his attention to detail when it came to his
appearance.
Not
today. Blake’s scruffy beard made Ethan’s normal disregard to his appearance
look stylish. His dark hair was a mess, obviously not combed that morning. His
long-sleeved, navy blue Henley shirt was wrinkled and untucked and as Ethan
moved around the truck, he noticed that one of Blake’s pants legs was tucked
into his boot as though he’d gotten dressed in the dark.
“This
is work, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“The
hell it is.” Blake’s anger seemed out of place, especially since Blake had
insisted on having the last word two weeks ago. “Work would be dumping that
shit off. What I saw when I pulled up wasn’t work.”
Ethan
had no idea why he felt the need to explain himself, but he had to catch the
words before he went any further. He didn’t want to intentionally hurt Blake,
but their time together had run its course, and Ethan did want to move on.
Having Blake show up every time he turned around was starting to seriously piss
him off.
“Look,
–” Blake promptly cut him off before he could finish his sentence.
“He’s
been talking shit about me, hasn’t he?” Blake asked hysterically. “Is that why
you don’t want to see me anymore? Are you listening to his lies?”
What
the fuck? Ethan felt like he was in an alternate universe, one where Blake had
the ability to rewrite history and change what had happened.
Glancing
over his shoulder, Ethan noticed that Beau was watching them closely. He turned
back to Blake, trying to see what part of this that he’d missed. It wasn’t like
Ethan had any contact with Beau. Well, aside from one kiss that had rocked his
world and now this… today. But this was business, nothing more.
Ethan
had known Blake for a while. Spent a lot of time with him and was privy to
numerous sides of his personality. He certainly was extremely self-centered,
insistent that everything revolved around him, but this seemed a little much,
even for Blake.
Ethan
had no idea what Blake was rambling about. None whatsoever.
He
turned again to see Beau still staring at the two of them, his biceps bulging
through the tight sleeves of his short sleeved t-shirt as he crossed his arms
over his chest. How the hell wasn’t he cold? It probably wasn’t more than
thirty-five degrees outside, and that didn’t include the wind chill factor.
Turning
back to face Blake, Ethan mirrored Beau’s defensive stance, crossing his arms
over his chest and keeping several feet between the two of them. He raised an
eyebrow, signaling Blake to continue. If he knew anything about Blake, the guy
would ultimately end up putting his own foot in his mouth before it was all over.
He never had learned when to shut the hell up.
“I
helped him move his stuff,” Ethan explained, gesturing toward the hulking
toolbox still sitting on the flatbed, although he had no