Chapter 18
QUINN
The Blueberry Fest was being held downtown, near the park, with vendor offerings ranging from pie to wine to scented body products and everything in between, all befitting the blueberry theme.
Even though it was a beautiful late July day, if I had it my way, I would’ve avoided attending this altogether.
But since Ford had a booth—a dunk tank fundraiser he’d come up with for the little league team I’d had no idea he and Aiden coached—Addison had cornered me yesterday and told me I was going whether I wanted to or not.
And I’d come to realize that when Addison had her mind set on something, there was no use arguing with her.
Besides, she’d had a point when she’d said Ford and I needed to keep up appearances to make everyone buy this coupling—especially when Dr. Dicknose still refused to entertain any discussion of my purchasing the clinic.
Little did she know, this coupling was more real than I’d ever intended, and I didn’t know what to do about that.
It had been plaguing me since the night Ford and I had slept together—both literally and figuratively—and I’d fallen asleep with him curled around me, my mind and emotions a jumbled mess.
So…I’d avoided. Him, yes. But more specifically, sex.
It had been easy at first… I’d been sore—like, holy shit, had my hymen actually grown back and he just devirginized me again?
sore—so that was a plausible excuse to skip another round with Ford and his magic peen.
Then he’d had a twenty-four-hour shift at the firehouse—one that had, surprisingly, kept him busy around the clock with various calls and emergencies, which meant he’d crashed as soon as he’d gotten home.
After that, our schedules hadn’t synced up for a few days, so that was an unplanned but welcome reprieve.
Then I’d had to get creative.
First, I’d told him I was too tired to do anything but crash after rearranging the furniture in the cottage. Then I said I thought I might be allergic to his shampoo, so he shouldn’t get too close to me. Then I’d blamed it on a stubbed toe.
The excuses were weak at best, and the worst part was, he saw right through them. Immediately.
Instead of pushing, he allowed me my space. But anytime I was around him, I could feel his eyes on me, heavy and weighted, brushing over my skin like a caress, and I hated how much I liked it. How much I’d come to crave it in such a short period of time.
In public, he played the doting husband, bringing me lunch at the clinic or carrying my bags for me when Addison had forced us together for errands.
And he somehow always knew when I had an exceptionally challenging day and needed an emotional support coffee, delivering it to me without my having to say a word.
When he did those things, I was confused all over again, wondering if he was doing this because he wanted to or because it was expected of him as my fake husband.
While we were at home, he gave me space. On his days off from the fire station, he busied himself with projects around the resort and then crashed hard at night… On his side of the bed.
And in between it all, he ate me up with his gaze, not bothering to hide the fact that he was eye-fucking me every chance he got. It was clear he knew exactly what I was doing, and he was just biding his time until I finally gave in.
But I couldn’t.
I didn’t know what the hell was happening between Ford and me, but I wasn’t so sure I wanted to figure it out. Not yet.
As sad as it was, our relationship was probably the most consistent and safe one I had in my life.
I knew what to expect from it and him. I had acquaintances, sure.
And hey, how’s it going friends like Everly and even Addison, but none who’d worked their way into my inner circle and past the walls I’d erected long ago.
Walls I’d learned to put in place to protect myself.
Antagonistic as it was, Ford’s and my relationship was a pleasant reprieve from what I was used to, and I wasn’t quite ready for that to change.
Not when my only other true relationships were with my narcissistic parents who’d kept me on my toes my entire life as I guessed what they needed from me in an attempt to avoid ridicule.
Getting married without telling them wasn’t the way to do this apparently, as my mother not so gently pointed out when she’d called in a fury last week.
“About time you got here,” Addison said, pulling me out of my thoughts. She hooked an arm through mine and turned us around, steering us in the opposite direction.
“So we’re going this way, then?” I asked on a laugh.
“Of course we are. Your husband is this way.” She glanced around then lowered her voice and tipped her head closer to mine.
“Honestly, it’s like you two want to get found out.
I thought we were going for gold here. I can’t have another yearly appointment with that weasel-faced fuckhead, Quinn. I can’t .”
I snorted at her descriptor, but her words, blunt as they were, were exactly the reminder I needed.
There was more at stake here than my libido.
My ultimate goal to own Starlight Cove’s clinic was going to have a real impact on this community, and I couldn’t allow myself to get derailed from it, no matter how magical Ford’s cock was.
“I’m working on it,” I said. “But Dr. Dicknose is dragging his feet.”
“Um, first of all, love the nickname,” she said, guiding us past the vendor booths and toward the east side of the festival. It was late and everything was beginning to wind down, but plenty of residents were still out wandering around. “Second, how’s he dragging his feet?”
I blew out a frustrated sigh. “Every time I bring it up, he finds an excuse to cut the conversation short or avoid it entirely.”
“Well, maybe it’s not malicious. Maybe he’s just being an idiot, like usual. In the meantime, you need to keep up the act. Which reminds me…” She reached into her pocket before slipping something into my hand.
I glanced down at it, then back to her. “What’s this?”
“A key.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I got that. A key for what? Where’d you get it?”
“From Aiden, who got it from Mabel. It’s for the Pleasure Palace.”
I scrunched my nose at what Mabel had named her she-shed where she sometimes hosted parties featuring the toys she sold, still not used to it even after living with her for months.
“Okay… Why did Mabel give this to him? What was he supposed to do with it?”
Addison waved her hand through the air. “That woman is constantly trying to get my brothers laid. It’s disturbing, to say the least.”
“Well, that’s…something I wish I didn’t know.”
“Doesn’t matter—it’s not the point.”
“What exactly is the point? You want me to find a girl in the crowd for Aiden and slip this to her so they can get in a quickie?”
“Um, ew ?” she said, scrunching up her nose before shaking her head. “Wouldn’t matter anyway. Anonymous sex isn’t really his style.”
I held up the key between two fingers. “Focus, Addison.”
“Right.” She stopped walking and turned to face me, hands on her hips.
“It’s for you to sneak away with your husband…
Obviously . I don’t care what you two do in there as long as there’s no bloodshed.
Just make the escape look good—like you can’t keep your hands off each other.
We want the entire town talking about it, so good old Dickie won’t have a choice but to believe it. ”
Well, that was just fantastic. I needed to have a pretend quickie with my pretend husband who was actually my husband and whom I’d actually had amazing and not at all pretend sex with and was now avoiding.
That clusterfuck explanation pretty much summed up exactly how difficult this was going to be.
I glanced behind Addison, my gaze immediately connecting with Ford’s.
Even with all the commotion going on around his booth, his eyes were trained on me, and a shiver slid down my spine at his pointed attention.
He was enclosed in the tank, shirtless and sitting on the levered stool, as people tried to hit the target.
His hair wasn’t wet, but that didn’t mean anything with how hot it was outside; he could’ve easily dried off, thanks to the sun.
And even though the festival was winding down, the kid currently tossing balls at the target looked determined as hell, so I wasn’t so sure Ford wouldn’t be dunked at least once more.
Worse, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle a shirtless, dripping wet Ford.
Especially when he was looking at me like that .
Like he was replaying every second of our night together.
Like he was remembering exactly how it had felt to be inside me.
Like he wished we didn’t have these layers of clothes between us.
His gaze did unspeakable things to me, and I wasn’t so sure I was strong enough to resist them. Thank God we were in public.