Chapter 9

"How long are you planning to stay there?" Ethan's voice suddenly erupted above her, full of burning anger. "Ah!" Celeste finally screamed, only just realizing the awkward position she was in. Her right hand felt like it was on fire-his body was definitely reacting. She could feel every bit of it. She yanked her hand back like she'd been electrocuted, scrambled up from him in a messy panic. But the tub was tiny, and the lighting wasn't doing her any favors. In a split second, her eyes snagged on... certain places on his chest. Wow! ‘Deep breaths, Celeste. Just breathe.' Her skin glistened with water, like a fresh blossom just out of the pond, her soaked shirt clinging tightly to her body. Ethan could very clearly see everything, and for a moment, the temptation nearly broke his self-control. "Your little tricks are getting more and more pathetic." His tone was ice-cold, but you could hear the rage he was trying so hard to swallow. "Geez, chill. It's not like you've got something the whole male species doesn't. No need to act like it's gold-plated." The words slipped out before she could stop herself-like seriously, who even cared? "What did you just say?" His eyes went stone-cold, and even under the dim light, Celeste could feel his glare piercing through her like needles. It was hard to breathe all of a sudden. "I... pretend I said nothing!" She exhaled and climbed out of the tub, fumbling around until her hand landed on a washcloth. Then she began scrubbing his back like mad, not even caring if she was gentle. Her frantic scrubbing had Ethan's jaw clenched up tight, lips pressed into a straight line. Not a word came out of him. ‘Wow. Dude can really hold it in?' Celeste tossed the washcloth at him, clearly over it. "Wash the front yourself." She wasn't about to get accused of 'seducing' him again, no thanks. Ethan raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. He grabbed the cloth and nonchalantly started scrubbing his body, right there in front of her. Celeste's eye twitched. She quickly turned her head away. She had seen enough tonight. Once they finished up, Celeste handed him a robe and helped him into it. While crouching down to tie the belt around his waist, she tried really hard not to look... down there. But no matter how hard she focused, her mind still flashed back to what her hand accidentally grazed earlier. Ethan stared at her face, and out of the blue, remembered a wedding invite that had landed in his inbox that morning. "There's a wedding the day after tomorrow. You're coming with me." His tone was indifferent, like this was some routine obligation. She was, after all, still technically his wife. "A wedding?" Celeste froze mid-knot and looked up. The guy was still pulling that emotionless face like everyone owed him money. That was his idea of 'inviting' someone? "Yeah, no. I'm not going." She declined flat-out, tied a firm knot at his waist. "I'm not into weddings. And I've done jail time-everyone in that circle knows me. Why would I wanna get dragged into that mess?" Ethan's face darkened. He wasn't used to Celeste turning him down so bluntly. "Anyway, you're clean, clothed, all set to sleep." She helped ease him into bed, tucked the blanket around him, then stretched her arms and glanced at the time. Almost 3 a.m. "I'm off to bed too. 'Night." She turned to leave, heading toward the door. But just a step out, Ethan spoke up from behind her. "Oliver and I grew up together in the military compound. Grandpa considers him like a grandson. For his wedding, every member of the Shaw family has to be there." Celeste stopped with her hand on the doorknob, brows furrowing. She turned around slowly and asked, "Whose wedding did you just say?"