No Sweeter Love (Sweeter in the City Book 3) by Olivia Miles Page B

bad.”
    “I do not have it bad. I just don’t like you talking about her that way, okay?” Fire heated his blood and Ethan took a sip of beer to cool his anger. Ted was right. Rob was drunk. He should call it a night. Go home.
    He pulled out his wallet and set a bill on the table to cover his share and a few rounds for everyone else. Tipping his head to swallow the dregs in his glass, he pushed back his chair and stood. “It’s been real, gentlemen, but I’m heading out.”
    “Already? But the girls haven’t even arrived,” Rob said, and Ethan just narrowed his eyes. They all knew what Rob meant by “girls.”
    “Good night,” he said, turning to go.
    “Heading home to his lady,” Rob cried, laughing.
    Ethan stopped, knowing he should let it drop, but he couldn’t. “And what are you heading home to?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
    “I don’t know,” said Rob. “Now that Kimberly’s back in town, I might head over to one of the other bars, see if she’s around. You wouldn’t mind, would you, Eth?”
    Ethan ground on his teeth, holding the challenge in his cousin’s gaze, telling himself not to feed it. Rob had always been this way with him—rumor was he’d been sweet on Kimberly back in high school. From the looks of it, he was still hell-bent on punishing Ethan for it.
    Ethan’s hand felt balmy as he pulled it into a fist at his side, wondering which of the comments he was more worked up about. The ones about Claire, or the ones about Kimberly.
    “Wouldn’t mind at all,” he said tightly. He walked to the door and pushed out into the cool night air, and began the walk back to the house, not pausing to look back.
     
    ***
    Claire was in the kitchen when Ethan came through the screen door; his shoulders hunched a little as he stepped inside.
    The party had died down forty minutes ago, with the bride claiming she needed her beauty sleep, and her sisters and friends following suit. The older women seemed happy to be relieved of the event, immediately claiming they were off too, leaving Claire, Amelia, and Barbara to clean up—it had only seemed fair to send Leslie up to bed.
    “I saw the light on,” Ethan said, opening the fridge and reaching for a bottle of water. He gave her a quizzical look. “Is everyone else asleep?”
    “Well, it is eleven thirty. Though, Amelia did mention something about seeing what was going on in town,” she said, raising an eyebrow.
    “Meaning who’s in town.” Ethan shook his head. “It’s been almost a year since the breakup and she’s still hoping he’ll have a change of heart.”
    Claire frowned at that. She couldn’t exactly fault Amelia. Hope was a powerful thing.
    But then, so was denial.
    She realized, with a jolt, that while Amelia maybe still had something to cling to, she did not. Not when Matt was proposing to another woman. She was free, but he was not. And that, well, that was closure, wasn’t it?
    “Do you think she’ll find what she’s looking for?” Claire suddenly felt defensive of Amelia. She may have tired the patience of her family members, but there was something romantic about unrequited love.
    And that was officially crazy talk. She opened the fridge and took a bottle of water out for herself. Time to clear her head.
    “Do any of us find what we’re looking for?” Ethan asked mildly, coming to stand next to her at the breakfast bar.
    Claire shrugged. Once she would have said so, but now . . . “I don’t know. I suppose that’s what life is all about, though, isn’t it? The belief that somehow, someway, it will all work out for us in the end?”
    She blinked quickly, but it was too late. The tears were there, burning the back of her eyes, threatening to spill. She was just tired, worn out, and worried. Hailey had called again, and Claire knew she couldn’t dodge her forever.
    Ethan frowned and set both hands on her shoulders, looking her in the eyes. “Promise me, Claire. Promise me you will not turn into Amelia.