Chapter 10
QUINN
The restaurant Ford drove us to was one of my favorites, a tiny little hole-in-the-wall with amazing Italian.
Since I was still a little tipsy, my two choices had been riding with him and picking my car up in the morning or extending our time at Kick Some Axe to allow my buzz to fade.
And given that I wanted this night to be over as soon as possible, I chose the lesser of two evils.
As we walked toward the entrance, he stared at me, his brow raised. “How do you want to play this?”
“What do you mean?”
“Should I request two tables, or…?”
“Why would you request two tables?”
“I wasn’t sure if you’d, like, burst into flames if you sat with me.”
“Oh my God.” I elbowed him in the gut, relishing in his sharp oof . “You are such a pain in my ass.”
With a chuckle, Ford lifted his hands in surrender before reaching out to open the door for me. “Just want to make sure you’re comfortable. For all I know, you stashed one of those axes in that luggage you call a purse and will have no qualms using it on me later.”
I rolled my eyes. “I already told you I’m not murdering you.”
“Yeah, well. I have a younger sister. I know how quickly a woman can change her mind, so I didn’t want to take chances.”
Without dignifying him with a response, I walked straight up to the hostess stand, not bothering to make sure he was following. “Table for two, please.”
With a smile, the hostess grabbed two menus and led us toward the back of the restaurant.
I’d been here several times since moving back, but for some reason, the restaurant felt more romantic tonight than I remembered it being.
It was quiet and cozy, only about a dozen tables inside, and nearly all of them were full.
Candles flickered on each table, and that, combined with the low lighting, provided a warm ambience I normally loved.
Normally.
However, normally, I wasn’t with Ford McKenzie, infamous flirt and all-around playboy, and my defenses were solid and secure…something he’d carved a chink in tonight.
I reached for my chair, but Ford beat me to it and pulled it out for me. When I stared at him, mouth agape, he simply raised a brow in response. I didn’t know why, but I hadn’t anticipated he would be the kind of guy who’d open doors or pull out chairs for his date.
In fact, I’d sort of assumed he’d be the kind of guy who fucked in the back seat and then swung by a drive-thru for dinner. But if there was one thing tonight had taught me, it was that my original assumptions of Ford might not all be accurate.
Somehow, during this brief interaction with him this evening, Ford had shaken the foundation that everything I thought about him was built on. Years of preconceived notions and assumptions had fractured right down the middle, and I was left floundering.
“Well, this wasn’t on my bingo card for the night,” our waitress said with a smile as she walked up to our table.
With a name tag reading Emily , she was a short white woman with dark hair cut in a severe bob, and I recognized her as someone who’d been a couple years behind us in school.
“I never thought I’d see the day where you two weren’t at each other’s throats. ”
“I assure you,” I said, “we are still at each other’s throats.”
“Don’t let her fool you,” Ford said with a smirk. “I’m growing on her.”
“That’s good for me, because I’d rather not clean up any food fights.” She laughed. “Speaking of, do you guys know what you want?”
I came here often enough that I didn’t even have to look at the menu, and by Ford’s raised brows at me, it seemed the same for him. After giving Emily our orders—including a glass of wine for myself because, fuck it, I needed it—we were once again alone.
Ford stared at me from across the table, something deep in his gaze I hadn’t noticed—or been aware of—before. “Okay, so growing on you might’ve been a stretch, but at the very least, I think maybe you don’t hate me anymore.”
“I never hated you. I just…didn’t like you. Which isn’t my fault, by the way. You’re very annoying.”
Ford barked out a laugh, drawing the attention of a few of the diners. “I love that you never pull your punches with me. You’re the only one in my life besides my family who does that, you know.”
“It’s because you’ve got everyone else wrapped around your finger.”
“That’s because I’m very charming.” He grinned when I only rolled my eyes in response. “But I also don’t see you doing that with anyone else.”
“What? Not pulling my punches?”
“Yep. It’d be a cold day in hell before you told someone to fuck off, but you’ve probably flipped me off five times this week alone.”
He wasn’t wrong. I’d been conditioned to people please…to make myself as small as possible so as not to be too much of a burden. But for some reason, I had no issue doing the opposite with him.
I shifted in my seat, wondering where the hell my wine was, because…yeah. That was exactly how I was, and I sort of hated that Ford had been able to read that about me.
A slow smile spread across his face, and seriously, how was it fair that this man was so freaking hot? Like, drool on yourself, walk into a pole, trip over air because you can’t stop staring hot.
“Don’t worry, kitten,” he said. “You don’t have to say anything, because I already know I’m right. Which tells me that you might not like me very much, but you’re comfortable around me, at the very least.”
Shaking my head, I huffed out a breath and glanced down. Uh…no. The last thing I felt tonight was comfort. Heat, arousal, irritation…yes. All of that, in spades. But comfort? Not even a little.
“So…” he said, drawing out the word. “About this no sex for three years thing…”
I snapped my gaze to his. He was leaning back in his chair, casual as you please, as if he hadn’t just brought up sex at dinner.
I glanced around the restaurant, worried someone had overheard him.
But whether intentionally or not, the hostess had put us at a table away from prying ears, thankfully.
Because God knew what shit was going to come out of Ford’s mouth before the end of the night.
“Oh my God,” I hissed at him. “Why are you still caught up on it? It’s not that difficult.”
He snorted. “Speak for yourself. I think my dick would literally fall off.”
I rolled my eyes as I reached for my glass of ice water, forcing myself not to imagine his dick. I’d seen hundreds—maybe thousands. His wouldn’t be anything special, apadravya piercing or not. “As a medical professional, I can assure you it would not. Next topic, please.”
“Fine, but remember you asked for this.” Leaning forward, he braced his forearms on the table, pausing only long enough for our waitress to drop off my glass of wine and leave.
“Have you ever considered recreating your Magic Mike lap dance? Because I volunteer as tribute.” He tipped his head to the side as he studied me.
“Or do you only pull it out in bachelorette situations? If so, I can probably get one of my brothers to pop the question by next week. Fuck knows Beck’s foaming at the mouth for it. ”
“I’m not giving you a lap dance.”
“Maybe not in real life, but don’t doubt for a second I won’t be imagining it tonight.” He tapped on his temple, his mouth tilted up in a smirk.
I refused to let his words get to me. This was what Ford did. It wasn’t me , specifically. His flirt game was on point 24/7, regardless of who was on the receiving end of it, and I needed to remember that.
Desperate to get the subject off sex, I asked, “How about you? You seriously build homes for Habitat for Humanity?”
“Is that so hard to believe?”
“Uh…yeah. Kind of. You don’t exactly give off the selfless vibe.”
He lifted a single shoulder. “If people don’t care to look hard enough to see past the surface, I don’t care what they think.”
I couldn’t help but envy him that. I’d crafted my entire life around what other people thought of me, and it had become suffocating.
“So, what? You just like to make people think you’re a lazy jackass who gets everything handed to him?”
“Are we talking about people or you, specifically?”
“Both.”
“Before tonight, would you have actually thought something different even if I’d told you otherwise?”
I had enough self-awareness to admit the answer was probably no… Okay, there was no probably about it. For a very long time, I’d had Ford neatly placed inside a specific box in my mind, and it was jarring to suddenly realize maybe he didn’t belong there.
That maybe, for years, I’d been wrong about this annoying jackass.
Instead of admitting that to him, I asked, “When did you get started with them?”
I didn’t know what it was about that question, but Ford’s entire demeanor changed in a blink. He was no longer leaning toward me, instead shifting back in his chair. His body language said he didn’t have a care in the world, but the expression on his face told another story entirely.
“About ten years ago. After my mom died.”
I’d been away at college when Mrs. McKenzie’s accident had happened, and I’d had no reason to come back home for the funeral.
I’d never been particularly close to any of the McKenzie kids—I’d never been particularly close to anyone, actually—unless one counted a near-obsessive rivalry with Ford.
But everyone in Starlight Cove knew she was a kind woman who’d adored her family.
I’d never had that kind of relationship with either of my parents, so I couldn’t imagine the level of grief Ford and his siblings had faced after losing a parent who actually loved and cared for them.
“I was sorry to hear about your mom,” I said, softening my tone.
Ford shrugged. “It was a long time ago, but thanks.”
“Is your dad still around?” Interestingly enough, I hadn’t seen Mr. McKenzie at all in the time I’d been back, which was weird, considering the size of Starlight Cove. Come to think of it, I also hadn’t heard anything at all about him.