Chapter 10 #2
Ford was already shaking his head. “Prentice Sawyer give in? He would have shot Finn himself before backing down. According to Finn, the people holding him got a little too drunk, and he managed to get away. He called our former chef—the one who’d taught him to cook—and Chef Guérard got him a plane ticket to France and a job when he got there. Finn never came home.”
God. What an awful time they all had under this monster of a man.
“And what happened to you?” I asked.
Ford’s eyes flicked up to mine. “I realized I couldn’t be the man I’d turned into.
I’d driven Griffen away, and Finn had escaped, but I still had siblings, and they needed me to be better.
I couldn’t stand it—knowing Finn had almost died and I hadn’t done anything to stop it.
I’d thought about it, gone back and forth, come up with scenarios, but in the end, I didn’t do anything to save him. He saved himself.”
That explained so much. “No wonder you’re freaked out about what happened in the parking lot,” I said. “He didn’t get hurt, you know.”
“That’s not the point,” Ford said between gritted teeth.
“That’s part of the point,” I argued. “Nobody got hurt.” I paused, gathering my thoughts. “And you guys—I’m assuming—have a plan to catch this guy. You’re working late in the taproom in the hopes he tries again?”
Ford glanced at me, clearly surprised. “Something like that, yeah,” he admitted.
“You can’t fix the past, Ford. It’s what you’re doing now that matters.
And what happened in that parking lot wasn’t your fault.
Finn said it after it happened. It’s the fault of the guy who tried to shoot you, and whoever hired him.
” I’d used my best no-bullshit voice, and it seemed to get through, just a little, given the way Ford looked at me.
“That would be my former lawyer,” he said.
“Well, that sucks,” I said, unable to stop the laugh that his wry comment startled out of me. “Maybe you need a new lawyer.”
“I don’t need a lawyer at all anymore,” he said.
“Ford…” I set my mug, still full of rapidly cooling tea, on the coffee table. “None of what you’ve told me changes my mind.”
He shook his head. “You deserve better than me.”
“Probably,” I agreed with a smirk. That drew an answering curl of the side of his mouth. Not quite a smile, but I’d take it. “But you already said you can’t give me a relationship.”
He nodded.
“And honestly, I’m not sure I want one. This is complicated—I work for your brother; we all live in the same house.”
“So, what do you want?” Ford’s eyebrow raised, and he looked at me with speculation, his dark mood fading slightly. “Friends with benefits?”
“Something like that,” I said, standing and crossing the short distance between us.
Before he could stop me, I set a knee next to his hip on the armchair and straddled his lap.
Glad we both fit in the oversized armchair, I grinned, my mouth hovering over Ford’s. “I say we try it again. Maybe you’ll be a dud, and we won’t have to worry about it.”
“You think?” he asked, his palms landing on my thighs, sliding up and around to grip my ass.
In answer, I kissed him. It was like a bomb went off, heat rolling up inside me, fusing my lips to his. His hands kneaded my flesh, pulling me closer, his hips rocking up into me, his mouth demanding. I sank my fingers into his thick, dark hair.
I couldn’t get enough. He tasted of the tea, of flowers and spice, and something darker underneath that was all Ford. I might have started the kiss, but he dominated it. My mouth moved against his, just trying to keep up.
He tipped his head back, his eyes dazed, one hand cradling the side of my face. “Paige,” he breathed, running a fingertip over my lower lip. “I could kiss you all night.”
Sitting up a little, he brought his other hand to my face, holding me, his green eyes shading to emerald, fixed on my mouth. He strained forward, brushing his lips over mine, trailing his mouth to the side of my jaw and down the side of my neck, setting me on fire everywhere we touched.
His teeth closed over my collarbone in a teasing bite. “You taste so good.” Then his mouth was on mine again, kissing me until my head spun.
His hands slipped under my shirt, splayed hot against my back, deft fingers unsnapping my bra. I wanted it off. I wanted everything off. I wanted to touch that smooth skin I’d seen every afternoon in the gym. I needed to see if he felt as good as he looked.
The world shifted, and he was standing, one arm hooked under my ass, bringing me with him.
He crossed the room in long strides, and I landed on my back on the bed, sideways, my hips on the edge, legs draped and barely touching the floor, Ford standing between them.
He reached down, grasping onto my shirt, and pulled it up.
I arched my back, helping him work the fabric free.
And then my shirt and my bra were gone, and he looked down at me with hot, hungry eyes.
“Paige.” He came down on the bed beside me, half on and half off.
I didn’t have time to think as he leaned over, cupping my breast in his hand, his mouth closing over the tight peak of my nipple, sucking hard enough that it almost hurt, then kissing, licking, soothing, sucking again.
Every touch sent jolts of liquid bliss straight between my legs.
I was so lost in the feel of his mouth on my breasts that I almost missed his fingers at the waist of my jeans, unbuttoning, unzipping, peeling them down until I was naked.
“More.” I sat up just a little to claw at his shirt, thinking about his bare chest so close to mine. I got the shirt off him and pulled him down, the little hairs on his chest scraping my nipples with a delicious friction as he kissed me again.
This was what I’d wanted—his weight and heat on top of me, pinning me down, Ford touching me until my head spun. His hand slid between my legs, fingertips circling my clit before sliding inside. It had been a while since I’d had sex, but I couldn’t remember ever feeling this ready—this desperate.
He lifted his mouth from mine and slid down, kissing my collarbone, my shoulder, the peak of my breast, my belly button, before settling on his knees at the end of the bed and dropping his head to close his lips around my clit.
The top of my head exploded.
One hand plucked my nipple, the other had two fingers inside me as he sucked and licked and tasted. I slapped my palm over my own mouth as a scream rose inside me. It was so much, so fast, and it felt so good. I came in a rush, gasping his name and then just gasping as I melted into the sheets.
“Ford,” I murmured. I cracked an eye open and met his smug, satisfied smile. I was pretty sure the one on my face was a match. I was feeling pretty smug myself. Propping up on an elbow, I reached for him. “What about—”
“Not tonight,” he said. “Tonight, this is what I wanted.” The side of his mouth curved. “No, that’s a lie. Tonight, I wanted to tell you all the reasons this couldn’t happen.”
“And now?”
He just shook his head. Sliding an arm under my back, he turned me on the mattress, tucking the sheets and blanket around me.
I reached up to grab his wrist. “Stay,” I said softly. “Just for a little. Stay.” My head was still spinning, my body aglow. I wasn’t ready to be alone, wasn’t ready for him to leave.
Fabric rustled and he slid in beside me—not naked, in boxers, I guessed—and hooked an arm around my waist, turning me onto my side exactly as I usually slept, though he couldn’t have known that.
His body fit against mine, his skin a little damp, his breath warm against my ear.
I stretched, rolling my ass against the tempting bar of his erection.
He let out a low groan and pressed his mouth to the side of my neck. “Next time.” Ford let out a long breath and sat up just enough to look into my eyes. “I want you to promise me something.”
“Maybe,” I breathed, sleep creeping up on me.
“Stay at Heartstone until this guy takes the bait. Don’t leave the Manor grounds. He saw you with me. I don’t want you to be a target.”
“What if it takes a long time?” I asked.
“How about just for now? Can you promise me that?”
“I have to talk to Griffen and Hope first. Part of my job is driving the kids around.” I heard what I’d said and hated the thought that sprang into my mind. “Do you think the kids are safe with me?”
“I’ll talk to Griffen,” he said. “We’ll figure something out.”
“If he thinks it’s safer, I’ll stay on the Manor grounds. But I need a promise too.”
“Hmm?” he asked, his breath warm on my ear, sounding as if he too teetered on the edge of sleep.
“We don’t tell anyone about this, okay? It’s just between us,” I said, my words starting to slur with fatigue and the release from a truly amazing orgasm. “It’s our secret. I don’t want things to get complicated.”
“Our secret.” His lips brushed the shell of my ear. “Promise.”