Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
PAIGE
Ifelt heat hit my cheeks and shook my head before I could think too much about the answer.
I didn’t want to talk about it. What I really wanted was to do it again, and never, ever talk about it.
Because talking about it would be awkward and weird, and I didn’t even know how I felt or what I wanted—except to kiss Ford Sawyer again.
How did I get myself into this situation? I was always professional. And that was what spilled from my lips. “I’m always professional,” I said. “And that was very much not. I work for your brother. It shouldn’t have happened.”
Ford nodded. “Probably not,” he agreed, “because you’re a professional and you work for my brother. And I don’t want to take advantage of your position in our household.”
“Okay,” I said, both relieved and oddly bereft, as if something I hadn’t decided I wanted had been snatched away. “Then we’re in agreement.”
Ford was already shaking his head. “What do you think we’ve agreed on?”
“That it’s not going to happen again,” I said, pushing away the empty pint glass in front of me.
Ford took it, poured me another very short pint, and handed it back. I accepted the glass but didn’t drink.
“I’m not agreeing to that,” he said in an annoyingly reasonable tone.
“What if I don’t want to kiss you again?” I said, my eyebrows drawing together, cheeks still hot. This conversation was awkward as hell, but at the same time, intriguing.
“You do,” he said, something sparking in the depths of his green eyes.
“You don’t know that,” I said, wanting to be annoyed but instead finding myself oddly charmed. I did not want to be charmed by Ford Sawyer.
That tiny grin curved the side of his mouth again, the light I was coming to like so much hitting his eyes for a flash.
“Paige,” he said quietly, “I was there. You definitely want to kiss me again.”
Damn it. I couldn’t deny it. He hadn’t just kissed me. I’d kissed him back. I’d kissed him back with everything I had because the kiss had been that good.
I let out a long sigh, my shoulders slumping forward. “Fine,” I admitted. “I do want to kiss you again, but I also have self-control, and it’s a terrible idea. I don’t want to lose my job.”
“Griffen is not going to fire you,” he said. “Not for that. He’d get rid of me before he’d get rid of you.”
I stared at him, my brows drawn together, wondering if he was crazy. “You’re his brother! Of course, he’d choose you over me. He barely knows me.”
“Clearly you haven’t heard enough of the family lore,” Ford said dryly. “We’re not close, haven’t been for a very long time, and it’s entirely my fault. I’m his brother, and family is important, but if it came down to you versus me, he’d keep you and boot me. No question.”
That didn’t make sense to me in the slightest. I was just the nanny. I liked Griffen and Hope an awful lot, but I was still an employee, one they didn’t even know that well, certainly not compared to their relationship with Ford.
I drummed my fingers on the top of the bar, thinking.
“You need to trust me,” he said. “Dave will be here soon, and telling you the whole story would take a lot longer than we have. Ask me later and I’ll give you the gory details. But for now, you need to understand that Griffen is far more likely to get rid of me than you.”
“Even if that’s true and I’m not risking my job, it’s still unprofessional,” I challenged, leaning forward, my voice low.
Ford leaned in until his face was only inches from mine. “I’m not going to kiss you while you’re working, Paige. But you aren’t working all the time.”
“That’s not the point,” I whispered, feeling the conversation sliding out of my control. He was so close, his breath warm on my lips, his eyes so green.
“It’s exactly the point,” he said, his voice quiet and smooth, flowing over me, erasing my objections. “I don’t want to interfere with your responsibilities with the kids, and I’m not your employer. I have no power over your job.”
“Okay,” I said, my heart thudding behind my ribs. “Assuming that’s true, what do you see happening here?”
Ford straightened, leaving me feeling cold in his absence.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I know that it’s been a long time since I kissed a woman.
And longer—if ever—since I’ve had a kiss like that.
I think you’re smart and warm and beautiful, and I really liked kissing you.
I didn’t plan it, but it happened. And now that it has… ”
That slight eyebrow lift again, that light flashing through his eyes.
Dammit. I was on the same page. I’d been kissed before, but not like Ford Sawyer had kissed me.
“Now that it has,” he said, “I want it to happen again. If you don’t, all you have to do is say so.
And if you do, then I guess we’ll see. I’m not offering a relationship, Paige.
I don’t know if I have that in me anymore.
I’m still trying to figure out how to be whatever this new version of me is.
I have a lot of mistakes to atone for and a life to figure out.
I’ve got nothing to offer a woman like you. ”
“That’s not a great sales pitch,” I said, fighting a smile.
“Just being honest,” he said. “I’m not going to bullshit you. You deserve better than that, and you’re smart enough to see through a lie.”
“True.” I let out a sigh, searching my heart for the resolve to tell him to try his luck somewhere else. “I should tell you absolutely not, never again.”
“Maybe,” he agreed. “But you’re not going to.”
“No, I’m not,” I admitted. “It’s been a long time since I’ve kissed anyone, either.
And I’m not sure I’ve ever had a kiss like that.
” He had given me the truth. I owed him the same back.
Or at least as much of the truth as I could.
“It’s worth seeing if the second kiss is as good as the first. Maybe you’ll be a dud. ”
“Possibly. We’ll just have to find out.”
His eyes flicked to his right as the door between the brewery and the taproom swung open, giving me a glimpse of high ceilings and stainless steel as Dave pushed through.
Ford sighed under his breath. He raised a hand in Dave’s direction in a silent hello before turning to give a low shout. “Finn, Dave’s here.”
Finn emerged from the kitchen in a dusty, grease-stained T-shirt, his dark hair pulled back in an ancient bandana, his faded jeans threadbare.
“Goddamn, that kitchen is filthy. It’s going to take me at least another two days to get it cleaned properly.
” His eyes scanned the bar and landed on me. “Hey, Paige. What’s up?”
More flustered than I wanted to admit by the conversation with Ford, I put on my professional face. “You guys are giving me a ride home. My car conked out on me,” I said.
“Oh, good timing at least. You had one of Avery’s donut hole stouts?” he asked, his eyes landing on the half-finished refill in front of me. “Fantastic, right?”
“Absolutely,” I agreed.
“Let me wash my hands, and then we can head out.” Finn glanced at the newcomer. “Hey, Dave.”
Dave raised a hand and flashed a grin at Finn before he went back to talking to Ford about the status of the kegs and the cash register.
A few minutes later, they were both ready to go. I rounded the bar, following them through the door to the brewery.
“I parked on the side,” Ford said over his shoulder, “so we don’t use up spots for customers.”
“Have you ever been back here?” Finn asked me.
“No,” I said slowly, looking around, my eyes absorbing the business end of the brewery: clean concrete floors and high ceilings in the warehouse-style room, Avery’s shiny stainless-steel vat and copper kettle, crates of bottles, the smell of hops.
It was ruthlessly organized and squeaky clean but still somehow warm and welcoming. “It’s so cool back here.”
“I know,” Finn agreed. “So different from the taproom, but somehow not.”
“Yeah,” I said, following Ford out the side door, looking back over my shoulder for a last glimpse of the brewery.
Finn led us to a Jeep parked a few spaces from the door. “Take the front,” Ford said, opening the passenger door and holding it for me.
I looked at the length of his legs and started to shake my head, but he was already moving to open the back door.
He didn’t need to be a gentleman about it.
I would have been fine in the back, but I appreciated the thought.
I had to wonder how much his chivalry had to do with wanting to kiss me again.
And if that was what it was about, was it working?
Nope, I decided, because I was going to kiss him again anyway. But a little chivalry didn’t hurt.
I was so wrapped up in my deliberations, I didn’t hear feet pounding the pavement until it was too late. Ford let out a shout, and I turned to see a man dressed in black from head to toe launch himself at Ford. Something dark was in his hand—a gun?
Was that a gun?
What the hell was going on?
Ford leapt at the man, bellowing, “Paige, get down!”
My body followed his direction before my brain had time to catch up, and I hit the ground, my palms and forearms breaking my dive with a raw scrape of flesh on asphalt.
My bun unraveled into my eyes, blocking my view with a tangled, dark curtain of hair.
The packages fell from my hand as I scrambled under the Jeep, which seemed like the safest place to hide.
I tried to see what was happening through the hair in my face, but all I caught were feet moving on the asphalt, Ford’s and the attacker’s.
It looked like they were fighting, but I couldn’t tell who was winning.
From the other side of the Jeep, I heard Finn calling 911, calmly explaining what was happening.
How was he so calm?
A gunshot blasted, far too close, and my heart stopped in my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting to feel pain, but if the bullet had hit someone, it wasn’t me.
I wanted to scream Ford’s name, to see if Finn was okay, but my voice was caught in my throat. My lungs locked tight, refusing to draw in air, my heart thudding so hard it was all I could hear. Only the scrape of feet on asphalt, the grunt and thud of more fighting, got through my panic.
In my head, I screamed Ford, Ford, but I couldn’t get the words out.
I worked my way farther under the Jeep, pushing my hair back out of my face. From behind me came another scrape and Finn’s voice. “Stay down, Paige. West’s deputies are on the way.”
“What…what…” I tried to force out the words, but they wouldn’t come.
“I don’t know what’s happening,” Finn said, breathless. “Just stay down.”
In front of me, Ford thudded to the asphalt, landing on his back.
I thought to reach for him, but he rolled and then launched to his feet.
There was a clatter—the gun tumbling to the ground only feet away.
I squeezed my eyes shut, afraid it would discharge, but it had barely landed when it was scooped up.
The rumble of an engine filled my ears as a car must have turned into the side lot, and then feet pounding… and everything was quiet.
“Who the fuck was that?” Finn asked, breaking the sudden silence.
“I don’t know who that was,” Ford said, his voice tired. “Or why he jumped me.”
And while I also had no clue what had just happened, I knew in my gut that Ford was lying.