It Was Nothing

19. Ford

CHAPTER 19

ford

T wo Grammys, eleven platinum albums, millions of dollars in ticket sales, and none of it mattered.

Because the most important person in my life hated my music.

Despised. Loathed. Wished she could delete every Whiskey and Women song from existence.

Peyton hadn’t said that but the fact that I was stuck in paradise with someone who was hardly speaking to me was a megaphone right in my face.

Five days of being married and she was probably contemplating how she could annul it as soon as we got home. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d already texted Holden. Or worse, Llew.

Every night, I’d heard Peyton crying herself to sleep. She didn’t want me to know. When I’d said something, she denied it. So I lay on the pull-out sofa, a metal rod digging into my back, listening to her sob in the king-sized bed alone.

Wide awake, during the day was no better. It didn’t matter that I brought her coffee every morning. Or that I left sweet messages on the mirror, telling her that she was my favorite or the most beautiful or the funniest. She was constantly staring into the distance, her head somewhere else.

With one hand on the steering wheel of our rented convertible, I glanced over at her. I had the radio on. It had been all boy bands all week, and even that hadn’t broken through her sullen mood. She was slumped down, so still, the wind whipping tendrils of her dark hair around her face. I couldn’t tell where she was looking with her sunglasses on. If her thumb wasn’t barely tapping the rhythm of the song, I might’ve thought she was asleep.

We had three days left in Kauai. Three days to turn this trip around and make it a happy memory. As it stood now, it was at the tip-top of my Most Depressing Vacations list. I turned onto Waikanal Road.

She glanced up. “Where are we going?”

“Snorkeling.” I smiled. “It’s the best part of visiting Hawaii.”

“Snorkeling?” she asked skeptically. “Like, put my head in the water and breathe through a tube?”

“It’s not as scary as it sounds. I promise. There are fish of every color of the rainbow. You’re about to fall in love with something new.” I was confident about that. Peyton loved happy, colorful things, which fit Hawaii’s undersea life exactly. And the best thing about Hawaii was that the water was the perfect temperature and it was crystal clear. I’d pointed it out as we’d flown in. Even from thousands of feet in the air, you could see straight to the ocean floor.

I’d told Jeff to hang back for the afternoon. Kauai was a great place to visit and not be bombarded by paparazzi and fans. I’d learned that years ago. That’s why I continued to vacation here as often as possible. I was so glad to finally do it with Peyton.

We parked and walked the short distance to Tunnels Beach, one of my favorite snorkeling spots. Peyton shimmied her shorts off and it took all my willpower not to ogle her in that pale pink bikini. This trip had been hard. Harder than the wedding night even—being with her three-quarters naked, nonstop. The emotions I was battling were insane. Being in love with this woman who had the body of a swimsuit model and being unable to do anything about it? It was absolute torture. But I must love torture because right then, I purposely fell behind so I could watch her walk.

Ten minutes later, Peyton stuck her face in the water for the third time. But when a gentle wave came in, she shot up, gasping for air as she shoved her wet hair off of her mask.

I popped the mouthpiece out of my mouth so I could talk to her. “Your snorkel was still six inches above the water. Just blow hard if water gets in the tube,” I reminded her. I’d given her a quick snorkeling lesson before getting in.

She nodded and tried again.

She relaxed, kicking her fins gently across the surface. Five minutes later, after watching thousands of purple, red, yellow, and striped fish, I looked up at her. Peyton was totally oblivious, looking straight ahead. I’d missed one important point in my snorkeling mini-lesson.

I swam over and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to look at me. I pointed down. The look on her face when she realized there was an entire world of sea life right beneath her and she’d been missing it was one of the best things I’d ever seen. Her eyes got huge and her face split into a grin. She began pointing to ones she thought were pretty. A red one. A bright blue fish. Then, a red and yellow striped fish. I followed wherever she swam, letting her discover, the awe starting over with every new fish she spotted.

Forty-five minutes later, I held up a finger to make sure she was watching. I dove a few feet down to a sea urchin. Then I picked it up and cracked it on a jagged piece of reef. Immediately, the other fish swarmed my hand, eating the fleshy meat. But I wasn’t watching them. I was watching my wife. She was mystified, her eyes even bigger than before, a beautiful, carefree smile on her face for the first time on the trip.

Her expression softened and finally, she looked at me like I was the most amazing man she’d ever known. Exactly like the night I met her. It had only taken fourteen years, an expensive marriage, and a vacation halfway around the world.

If it weren’t for that moment—the satisfaction and joy of watching her, watching me—I might’ve missed what happened next. But thankfully, I kept my gaze trained on her as she pointed to another fish. Just then, the bottom edge of her bikini top slipped up an inch.

My eyes narrowed, focusing. I blinked, trying to make sure what I was seeing was real. It was. There was a tattoo right beneath her left breast, over her ribcage.

A comet with the number 3673 written across the tail.

I squinted. No. A shooting star.

3673. That could mean anything, right? But even as I was justifying it, I knew it wasn’t true. 3673 was my Nashville Launch vote code. It was the nickname Peyton had called me for the three weeks we were together right before I won the show. The best three weeks of my life. Until I screwed it all up.

Suddenly, everything was vivid, perfectly clear. The saltwater in my mouth, my arms working to stay buoyant. Her sun-kissed skin sparkling from the sunlight streaming down on us. I knew I’d remember this moment until my dying breath.

Without thinking, I reached out, my thumb brushing across the smooth ink.

She looked down at where I was touching. Her eyes skittered to mine and fear flashed across her face. She smacked my hand away and fluttered her feet, kicking hard for the shore.

She’d always said those three weeks were a silly, immature fling. That we weren’t meant for each other and that she’d gotten caught up in the moment. All things that hurt to hear. But the most painful? The one that had stabbed to the center of my soul? She simply wasn’t as attracted to me as I was to her.

But if all of that was true, why did Miss I Hate Tattoos have a tattoo herself? One. Of my vote code. Unless others were hiding in spots I’d never seen.

As I swam for the beach, all I could think was…if dating me had been such a mistake, if she hadn’t been as in love with me as I was with her, wouldn’t she have had it removed years ago?

I had to find out.

And lucky for me, I had an ace up my sleeve.

I said nothing as we packed up our things and nothing as we drove the thirty minutes back to our secluded Airbnb. And nothing when she hurried from the car.

Jeff opened the front door wearing a ridiculous neon green Hawaiian shirt dotted with hot pink flamingos. With his mustache, he looked like Magnum P.I. Peyton pushed up on her tiptoes to hug him, as she always did. Then she slipped past him and disappeared into the house.

“Good afternoon?” he asked under his breath. “She looks like she’s seen a ghost. Did something happen? Crazy fans? Paparazzi?”

“No. It was a great afternoon. But we have some things we need to talk about. Do you think you could head over to the Princeville Resort and do your security stuff for the luau now?”

“Sure thing.”

I handed him the keys to the convertible and shut the door behind him.

Then I walked through the living room and kitchen. Empty. She wasn’t in the bedroom, or in the bathroom showering.

“Peyton,” I called as I came back through the living room. But then I spotted a flash of pale pink off to my left. Through the sliding door, I watched as she dove into the pool on the side of the house.

I crossed the room and slid the door open. Her back was to me, her hair wet, her arms resting on the edge of the glass wall of the infinity pool, as she stared at the sun setting over the ocean.

I slipped into the pool, shoving the water behind me to get to her. I broke the surface next to her and matched her stance, hanging off the edge of the glass.

“So,” I started. “What do you think of Hawaii?”

“It’s even prettier than the pictures and shows make it out to be,” she said quietly. “Thank you for bringing me. It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad I got to share it with you.” I cleared my throat. “Remember how you promised me one thing of my choice?”

“Yes?”

“Well, I’m ready to cash in that chip.”

“Already?” She laughed but it was stilted. “I thought you might keep that in your back pocket until the right moment.”

“That was my plan. I didn’t expect the right moment to come so fast. But it’s here.”

She turned, only holding onto the wall with one hand, but she wouldn’t meet my eye. “You’re sure? You have at least five more years of me. You might want to hang on to that.”

“I’m sure.”

She pinched her thumb and fingers together like she was doing yoga. “Okay. Lay it on me.”

“We’re going to play truth or dare. Real truth or dare, where we tell the whole truth. Because,” I said quickly when she looked like she might refuse. “My best friend is a ‘good Christian girl.’” I made air quotations. “You told me that the first time we met. And,” I added. “I get to decide when the game ends.”

“It can’t go on indefinitely. That’s cheating. Like the whole genie thing. When you get three wishes, one of them can’t be more wishes.”

“It’ll be over in the next half hour,” I said confidently. We had to leave for the luau after that.

Her eyes turned down and I was pretty sure she was about to cry. I felt bad about that, but it was past time for her to stop acting like she didn’t have feelings for me. Her reaction to the kissing scene had niggled at me all week. Seeing her tattoo sealed my hunch. She’d been lying to me all these years.

The question was why. And I was determined to find out.

I watched her, waiting. “You said I got one thing of my choice and this is what I want.”

Her eyes closed and I thought I heard her mutter something about Jesus and being brave. When she opened them, she gave me a terrified nod. “Okay. But please…go easy on me.”

I opened my mouth to ask if she wanted to answer a truth or be given a dare.

“Dare!” she shouted in a manic voice. “Dare. I want the dare.”

“Fine.” I let out a soft grunt. “I dare you to do a ten-second handstand in the water.” Apparently, I needed to be eased into this too.

She sank down with relief. Then she swam away and held a perfect, gold medal-worthy handstand. She swam back, a triumphant smile on her beautiful face.

“Your turn,” she said.

“Truth.”

She thought for a moment. “What’s a dream you have for yourself that you rarely or never talk about?”

I didn’t have to think about it for even a second. “I want to be a dad someday.” And make a baby with you, I didn’t say. “I know I’m Cash’s stepdad now but he’s practically grown. I want to experience the baby stage…and the toddler stage. All the stages. I think I’d be a good dad. I am the ultimate Funcle, after all.”

“The dumbest title ever,” she whispered. “But…yeah. You are. All those nieces and nephews are lucky to have you. Cash, too.” For some reason, it came out sounding melancholy.

“Your turn again,” I said.

She looked a little braver than when we’d started. “Truth?”

I could drag this out, but I didn’t want to. I was ready. “Why didn’t you tell me that you have a tattoo with my?—?”

“Dare!” she shouted, even more maniacally than before.

“Woman,” I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Fine.” I shrugged. “I dare you to kiss me.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “A real kiss. The kiss I should’ve gotten when I proposed and again when we said ‘I do.’ A kiss where you let yourself relax and feel whatever you’re going to feel. And you can’t hold back. It needs to be honest. Not stiff. For at least…” I thought through how long it would take to break down her walls. “Three minutes. And we will be using tongue. Hands will be moving. We will be feeling all the feelings. Showing no restraint. If I feel restraint, we start over.”

Her face fell into her hands. “These are terrible choices, Ford. Just terrible.”

“Truth or dare is meant to make you uncomfortable. That’s the whole point.”

“I don’t know who thought this game up but I hope they burn,” she said with a touch of vitriol.

“You can answer the question if you’d rather.”

She stared at me, her face twisted in discomfort. “No, I’m going with the dare.” She shook out her hands and jumped from foot to foot like a boxer warming up for a match.

I could already tell she was going to mind over matter this and try not to feel anything. Joke was on her; I was going to mind over matter even harder and make sure she failed.

She opened and closed her fingers against her palms, urging me to bring it in. But she wasn’t ready. Her shoulders were hunched, her breathing coming too quickly. The woman was going to hyperventilate if she didn’t chill out.

I put my hands on my hips. “Deep breaths, Peyt. I’ll start when I think you’re relaxed.”

“Fine.” She rested her arms against the lip of the glass wall and stared up at the sky, probably praying again. Her eyes closed and her chest rose and fell at least six times. I could tell she was doing meditation breathing. It was working. Her shoulders were loosening up and the rise and fall of her chest was slowing.

I gripped the rim of the glass on either side of her, my feet firmly planted on the fiberglass below. Then I placed my hands on her waist. Her eyes came open and there was a determination there that I only saw when she had to do something she really didn’t want to do. I shut down the doubts and willed myself to be confident. Peyton loved me and I was about to prove it.

She pushed up on her tiptoes. Her mouth met mine in the middle. When her fingers threaded through my hair, I could already tell this was going to be good.

My hands slid up her velvety sides as I leaned into her. I pressed my tongue against her teeth, wasting no time. I had to make every second count. She parted her lips, her mouth lush and inviting.

Our tongues found each other and it was volcanic. All the years of holding back set off a chemical reaction in my body. Heat flushed through me, volatile. It felt like the earth quaked beneath us, the entire northern hemisphere feeling the effects. The release of finally being able to show her how I felt was what heaven must feel like all the time, no doubt.

She tilted into me, moaning, her arms wrapping around my neck, almost putting me in a headlock. She ripped her mouth away to press kisses over each of my eyelids reverently. And then her mouth was back on mine, not reverently at all. Her chest pressed tightly against mine like we’d been welded together, and I thought I might die of happiness. Or like my legs might give out.

The love I had for this woman was beautiful, scorching, and the most frustrating thing I’d ever experienced. But right now, I wasn’t going to think about the past. This was my moment. The moment I’d been waiting for since that night in the back of the ranch truck.

Goosebumps sprang up on her shoulders and I kissed them away. But she wouldn’t allow me to stay there. Gripping my biceps, she ducked, chasing my lips, urging me to her mouth like we were running out of time.

My lungs expanded, my heart feeling like it might explode if I had to keep from telling her how much I loved her for one more second. But I couldn’t risk freaking her out. I’d done that too many times. And she already knew. I’d made my feelings clear. No, what I needed to focus on right now was pushing her close enough to the edge that she’d crack.

I pressed a kiss to the hinge of her jaw as I let my hands slip down her sides and over her hips. My thumbs hooked around the ties holding up her bikini bottom and she groaned. Mouths melded once again, she grabbed my waist and pulled our hips together.

The further this kiss went, the surer I was. Peyton loved me. Loved me exactly like I loved her. It was time to end this nonsense and draw a confession so we could have a real marriage.

I started to unhook my thumbs from her strings, but she whispered a forceful, “ No .” Her hands clapped over mine, holding them on her hips. Her thumbs traced over my knuckles, begging me to stay there. It was the reaction I wanted.

She tore her mouth away. “We’re technically married,” she gasped. “It’s okay if we do it just this once. What happens in Kauai, stays in Kauai?” Her hands slid down my abs, fumbling with the knot on my board shorts.

My body screamed, YES.

But my head calmly and clearly said, No. Endgame.

The urge to carry her to the bed inside overpowered everything else, and I almost gave in.

Endgame! The last thing you need is for her to regret it later. That’s what happened last time. You gotta be stronger than she is. You can’t do another fourteen years of this!

So, going against every instinct , I pushed her hands away and stepped back. Then I looked directly into her ravenous eyes. “I don’t want you just once,” I breathed. “I want you every day and every night, today, tomorrow, thirty years from now…forever. Say you love me. That you’ve always loved me. Tell me you want this, for real, and I will carry you into that bedroom right now.”

She looked at me like I’d been possessed. “You don’t know what you’re asking. Just…can’t you be happy with right now?” She grabbed the back of my head, going in for another kiss.

I dodged her lips and took a larger step away from her. “No. I want you always or I don’t want you at all.” I couldn’t be her yo-yo, boy toy. My heart couldn’t take that.

Her eyes narrowed, half-delirious. She wanted this so badly. She reached for me again. Again, I darted out of her grasp.

I rubbed the center of my chest, trying to calm…everything. “Peyton, please . Just let me love you for real and for good.”

She stared at me for a few seconds and I thought I’d done it. I’d finally broken through her titanium-plated walls. She was going to agree.

But then she crumpled. Her face twisted up in what she called her Ugly Cry. It should’ve been called her Ford Would Fight the World to Stop Whatever is Causing Peyton So Much Pain Cry because it was unbearable to witness.

She heaved a sob. “Why? Why can’t you leave well enough alone?”

“ Dammit. ” My fists smacked the water. “What kind of woman doesn’t want a man to be committed to her? Why are you crying?”

“Because,” she said, as if it should answer all my questions. “Just…because.” She heaved an angry puff of air as she shoved me hard, making me float away.

I planted my feet on the ground and wiped my mouth. Everything in me was raw and desperate to love her. “When did you get that tattoo?” I demanded.

She shook her head, tears pouring down her cheeks.

I put my hands on my hips, needing them to go somewhere now that they weren’t touching her. “We’re not getting out of this pool until you tell me.”

She eyed the stairs, probably gauging if she could get to them before me. She couldn’t. “Are you going to wrestle me over it?”

“Yes. If I have to. Enough of this. Don’t you think I deserve answers?” Her guilty expression said she did. I released a slow exhale. “I’m going to ask one more time. When did you get that tattoo?”

She stared off at the sunset for a good five seconds. “Two days after we met,” she whispered like it killed her to admit it.

I let that settle for a second. “Why didn’t you tell me about it back then?”

“I was going to. The night you won the show.”

My hands were at the back of my head. “I thought you said we were a mistake. That those three weeks meant nothing and that we simply didn’t fit. But you don’t get a tattoo unless you think a relationship is serious. And you don’t keep it unless a relationship is permanent. So, why didn’t you have it removed?”

“Because…” She closed her eyes, gearing up for whatever was coming. “I love you,” she cried. “I always have, okay? You broke my heart the night you won the show, but I never got over you. I’ve loved you every day since.” She glared at me. “Happy now?”

Her words took a few seconds to travel from my ears to my brain. A few seconds to register that she’d finally said what I’d waited fourteen years to hear.

“Yes!” I shook my fists in the air. “Yes! Finally!” I dove into the water and closed my eyes against the chlorine. But my arms came up empty. When I popped to the surface, I turned to see her swimming for the stairs. “Oh, no, you don’t.” I dove for her again, catching her around the waist. She flailed, fighting against me. “Stop,” I said, pulling her to my chest. “ Please .” Her entire torso shuddered and she went limp in my arms. I turned her to face me. She pressed her forehead into my shoulder and wept. “Hey.” I stroked her back. “Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad. Peyton, baby, tell me what’s going on.”

She nodded, sniffling. But she stepped out of my reach. “I will. I’ll tell you everything. But we need to be back home on Seddledowne soil first.”

“What? Why?” I wanted to love her now. Right now . In the bedroom inside this house with that sunset in the background.

“Just…trust me, please.”

“Okay.” I reached for her again.

“No.” She held up her hands, warding me off. “It’s not good, Ford. Just promise that you’ll try not to hate me when you find out.”

I blinked at those words. “Hey,” I coaxed. “I couldn’t hate you. That’s not possible.”

“It is. It is and you will. I can promise you that. It’ll be the end of us, I don’t know what I’m going to do without you in my life. There’s a very short list of the people that I truly love and you’re at the top of it. Right next to Cash. And I’m going to lose you.” She squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, that determined look was back. “But you deserve to know. I should’ve told you a long time ago.”

Then she turned and walked up the stairs and into the house.