Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
FORD
My eyes flick from my inbox on the computer screen before me to the monitor on my right, where the live feed of Emerson’s ongoing Zest magazine photo shoot is taking place downtown.
She’s leaning over Lawson’s shoulder, her arms wrapped around him with her blonde hair tossed back as she smiles brightly for the cameras that continue to snap incessantly. Both of them lean this way and that, the epitome of professionalism, until Lawson suddenly pivots around to grasp Emmy’s waist, tugging her closer to press a kiss to her lips.
Her inimitable sweetness explodes on my tongue, and I clench my jaw, immediately moving Lawson fucking Wilde to the top of my shit list.
Asshole.
Despite his actions, everything appears aboveboard, so I return my distracted gaze to the work at hand.
Scheduling my employees is never a fun gig, and paperwork has never been my strong suit, so within less than thirty seconds, I find my eyes drawn back to the monitor. Staff are milling around Emmy and Lawson, adjusting hair and makeup as the co-stars chat closely.
When I’d first heard the rumblings of a rumored romance between the two, I’d instantly written it off. In the years since I walked away, I’ve seen a handful of boyfriends come and go, and this guy does not fit the bill in the least.
But since Sentinel has been brought on board and the potential danger in Emmy’s life, I’ve been even more thorough than before. I’ve pored over her every move, and the more I’ve watched, the more assured I’ve become that my initial assumption was wrong.
Because Emerson Hart and Lawson Wilde have actual chemistry.
My chest aches, and I reach my hand up to rub at the spot while I watch the screen before me. The pain escalates when Lawson picks up a strawberry from a platter held out to them by an attendant and holds it up to Emmy’s lips.
She smirks before taking a bite of the proffered fruit, her pointed pink tongue darting out to lick the excess juices off her lips. The sight makes my neglected dick thicken in my slacks, and I swiftly adjust myself, making a mental note to take care of that later.
Sex with my hand is never overly appealing, but the idea of sex with anyone other than Emmy turns my stomach.
I’m about to reach for my guitar, needing something to do aside from fixating on the couple before me, when there’s a sudden commotion off-camera that has everyone freezing, and Emmy’s laughter-filled face transforms entirely at whatever she’s seeing.
Without missing a beat, I dial Damon, cursing him loudly when he doesn’t answer. My blood pounds in my ears, needing to know what’s going on as I dial Lenny, Damon’s backup, who shouldn’t be far away.
He answers on the second ring, not wasting a moment, and his words make my blood run cold. “Damon’s having some kind of seizure. An ambulance is on the way.”
“Strychnine poisoning?”
My words are filled with incredulity as I stare in disbelief at Fraser Cartwright, Damon’s doctor at Brant Hamilton Memorial Hospital.
He nods grimly. “That’s what our preliminary tests have shown, Mr. Holloway. It’s probable that he ingested it accidentally. The next twenty-four hours will be crucial, but you can rest assured, your employee is receiving the very best of care.”
Then he scribbles something on Damon’s chart before handing it off to the nurse at his side.
“I’ll keep you updated.”
And with that, he pivots on his heel, swiftly disappearing down the corridor.
I turn to Lenny with a heavy sigh, pressing two fingers against my right temple, where a solid throbbing has resided since arriving at the hospital.
“I need you to hold down the fort for a little while, Len.” I wait for his nod before I continue. “I have to make several calls, and then I’ll handle things with Miss Hart’s security detail. In the meantime, ensure she stays in this room. I’ll be back shortly.”
I glance into the hospital room where Emerson is waiting alongside Lawson, assuring her safety, before I move past Lenny toward the stairwell. Once I’m hidden behind the door, I growl a low expletive, then quickly dial Alex’s cell.
It goes directly to voicemail. Vaughn’s does, too, so when Grayson answers almost immediately, relief unfurls in my chest.
“What’s up, Tex?”
There’s silence on the other end of the line as I bring him up to speed.
“Now I’ve just got to figure out what the hell I’m supposed to do about Emerson’s security. Lenny’s good, but he’s no Damon. And until I know where the strychnine came from and exactly how it got into Damon’s system, I’m hesitant to allow her out of my goddamn sight.”
“Why don’t you just do it yourself?”
I grimace at his words. “Are you shitting me, Rich Boy?” He proceeds to snort at my rarely used nickname for him. When I’d discovered Grayson’s rigid upbringing, along with his hatred for his old money family and their downright odd peculiarities, I couldn’t resist the jibe.
He’s chuckling when he replies. “I’ve seen you pine for this woman for the last three years. Since your drunken confession to me by the firepit the night we celebrated Sentinel’s launch.”
I wince at the hazy memory of the night I let loose in Gray’s ski lodge in upstate Vermont while our friends had slept soundly with their wives as he continues.
“And I’m positive there’s not another living soul on this planet who has a bigger investiture in the safety of America’s Sweetheart than you do.”
He’s not wrong.
Even so, I’m torn.
After five years in the shadows, watching and protecting from the sidelines, can I step into her light and, when the job’s done, leave unscathed?
Or worst. Might I end up breaking her as badly as I broke myself the day I walked away…
EMERSON
“You want a coffee, Em?”
I lift my gaze from my lap to meet Law’s concerned eyes, and I nod with a small, reassuring smile. “I’d love one. Thank you.”
As my sweet fake boyfriend slips from the room, I look back at my lap, my thoughts immediately returning to Damon. Witnessing those seizures that wracked his whole body was one of the scariest moments of my life, and every time I close my eyes, I see it all over again.
Just then, my stomach grumbles with hunger, and I sit up taller, remembering that I haven’t eaten today. I reach for my cell, intent on calling Law, and asking him to grab me something downstairs, when I realize I left everything back at the photoshoot.
“Dammit.”
I push to stand and quickly cross the room to follow him instead, but I come up short when I practically crash into a wall of shirt-covered muscle.
“ Ooof !” Exceptionally large hands reach out to steady me, gently grasping me around my biceps despite their behemoth size, before dropping away.
“Careful, Miss Hart.”
My eyes travel up from his chest to find serious hazel ones fixed on me. He’s wearing the same Sentinel uniform as Damon, with the name Lenny embroidered over his left pectoral.
“Is there something I can help you with?”
I shake my head, moving to sidestep him, but come to a stop when he holds out an arm. My brows crease in a frown as I look up at him. “Excuse me.”
His face crumples as discomfort emanates from his entire vast frame. “Apologies, Miss, but I’m under orders to keep you here until my boss?—”
A deep voice comes from behind Lenny, interrupting him. “I’ll take it from here, Len.”
The timbre is husky, and the accent is both well-known yet unplaceable, but it sends a lightning bolt clear through me. I’m blinking rapidly as Lenny steps to the side to reveal a tall, broad, heart-achingly familiar man walking toward me.
A white shirt with rolled-up sleeves hugs his broad chest, and his forearms, covered with intricate ink down to the wrist, are displayed prominently. Navy slacks hug muscular thighs as his brisk strides cover the space between us.
Ford?
My jaw almost unhinges as my eyes rake over his handsome features.
The years have been more than kind to him.
His once short black hair is longer now and brushed back off his tanned face. That chiseled jaw sports immaculately groomed facial hair, showcasing lips that have tasted the most intimate parts of me.
Your pussy tastes even fucking sweeter than your mouth, Tink.
I inhale sharply as my sudden arousal coats my panties, and I glance away as guilt colors my already-flushed face, followed rapidly by a deep-seated, rising anger.
The man I’d once thought to be my soulmate comes to a stop directly in front of me, just out of arm’s reach. As Lenny leaves, I can feel Ford Holloway’s chasmic blue eyes on me like a physical touch, as intensely as ever, if not even more so.
It takes several moments to get myself under control, pushing down every single emotion swirling within me. Refusing to give this man any more of me than he’s already destroyed as I paste a neutral look of nonchalance on my features.
“Miss Hart—” He pauses suddenly when I shift my eyes back to him. His gaze almost knocks the breath from my lungs as he watches me with the same reverence he did once upon a time. Somehow, I manage to keep myself together before his voice drops to a coarse whisper. “I hadn’t planned on taking control of this… job myself, but with Damon out of commission, I’m afraid I have little choice in the matter. Your safety is my priority.”
I can feel my forehead crease as the cogs of my brain kick into gear. “You work for Sentinel?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
He shrugs a single shoulder as something akin to embarrassment flashes through his eyes, and he looks away, murmuring almost inaudibly, “I own Sentinel.”