Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
EMERSON
“It’s okay, Hayles. I mean it – you just work on feeling better soon, okay?”
My stepsister sniffles miserably on the other end of the line. “Your day is jam-packed, Em. The rest of this week, for that matter, and I—I— aaachooo! ”
As Hayley violently sneezes five more times in rapid succession, I shoot an email to Simone, Hayley’s assistant, to let her know that the plans for the day have altered.
I know Simone would jump at the chance to assist me for the next couple of days while Hayley recuperates, but honestly, I’m not altogether vibing with the idea of spending today close to my ex without Hayley as a buffer.
Following the events of last night, I know his proximity is a danger to me. One I can’t risk, no matter the cost.
“I’m so sorry…” Hayley’s low tone is brimming with self-pity, and my bottom lip curls down in empathy, making an internal note to send her some chicken noodle soup from Luciano’s, our favorite deli in Tribeca.
“I’ve already emailed Simone. We’ll revise my schedule when you’re better. Just get some rest, and I’ll check in on you soon. Okay?”
Another sneezing fit ensues amid Hayley’s acknowledgment, and I hang up with a sympathetic smile as I close the laptop on the breakfast bar before me.
After placing the soup order and adding some of their vitamin-rich orange juice for good measure, I settle back into my seat and glance around the pristine penthouse.
What now, idiot?
I may have delayed spending time alongside Ford, but in the process, I’ve shit all over an insanely hectic week.
Today’s final fitting for my ICON gala dress with Ava Sinclair, the fashion community’s hottest new commodity, is just the start. Both magazine and TV interviews, several PR appearances, my fake date with Lawson this weekend, the reshoot at Vesper two days from now, not to mention needing to re-run my lines for said reshoot…
I drop my head onto the breakfast bar and close my eyes tightly before expelling a deep sigh.
What have you done, Emerson?
Maybe Ava can come here…and the journos too. Sure, there’ll be rumors of what a diva I’m being, and it’ll be difficult to make it all work, but to avoid spending time alone with my ex, I’m willing to live with it.
I’m still thinking things through as I make my way to Ford’s room to let him know the change of plans for today, when I stop short outside the door. I can clearly hear him on his cell, delight present in his tone.
“You did it all on your own, Pest.” His deep chuckle reverberates through the heavy wooden door as I unintentionally eavesdrop. “Now put Mom on the line so we can lament her loss of another one of her children to the wonders of Manhattan.”
My lips curve upward when I hear Ford’s mom, Abigail, in her distinctively maternal voice as he puts her on the loudspeaker.
“If I didn’t know any better, baby, I’d be thinkin’ you pulled some strings to get that internship for our sheltered little Faith—” She breaks off in howling laughter, and I shamelessly press my ear to the door when I can just about make out another female—most likely Faith Holloway—protesting in the background.
Ford emits a low, rumbling laugh that makes my smile grow despite myself. I can practically see his face transform in my mind’s eye and my eyelids close as I allow myself to envision the beauty of his smile when it used to be aimed at me.
“You’ll be proud to know that Alex said it was entirely on her own merit, Momma. Despite her tender years, it seems that my Pest seems to know a teensy little bit about the advertising industry?—”
“ Pffft ! A teensy little bit? It’s called takin’ online classes, you great big jackass . I may be sheltered, but I ain’t dead !” Faith’s voice rings out, making both her brother and mother laugh uproariously, and rather than interrupt, I step away, walking back toward the living space.
When I reach the sofa, I flop down onto it to wait for Ford. I’m sure he’ll be less than thrilled with how I’ve scuppered his plans, and God knows I could use more than a hot minute to gather my scattered thoughts.
I’m suddenly entirely sure that avoiding any unnecessary proximity today is the right call, even if it makes me look like a diva. After all, if simply listening to him through a closed door made my pulse race, how would I be after an entire day cooped up alongside him with no buffer?
Yeah, definitely the right move.
The cherry juice last night had been the barest tip of the iceberg, but even so, I felt some of the painstakingly laid brickwork in my defenses teeter.
Ford Holloway is still the owner of a heart bigger than the state of Texas, and that’s a solid blow to the gut.
Even at the age of twenty-two, being sent to the UK to run security for Caden North, one of the biggest music stars of the past decade, he’d ensured that I was secure in his feelings for me.
Despite his own inevitable anxieties about his impending job and the pressure his piece of shit father piled upon him, he’d gone above and beyond, giving me the knowledge that—at least at that time—we were forever.
And, like a flash, I’m transported to a time I haven’t allowed myself to recall in years.
A slight chill from the dropping temperature of the sun slowly disappearing beyond the horizon makes goosebumps scatter across my exposed skin.
Ford chuckles deep inside the broad chest that’s pressed against my back as we sit astride Marshal.
“What’s so funny, Mr. Mysterious?”
I can’t resist the barb. Ever since he came to Broken Hart yesterday to welcome Easton—and, by proxy, me—for the summer, my secret boyfriend has been giving off all sorts of cryptic vibes.
Sure, he’d been forthright in telling me and East how he’s being sent to head up security for Caden North in London for the coming months. My brother had left almost immediately after Ford’s disclosure—the main perk of my brother’s obsession with learning how to run Broken Hart being that he’s entirely blind to our relationship, at least until we’re ready to tell him—so I’d thought he’d fill me in then, but he’d changed the topic.
I am categorically positive that there’s something he’s not telling me, and I intend to find out.
So, when he’d turned up at my window thirty minutes ago, insisting that I accompany him while wearing a blindfold, I’d been both excited and confused, with a heavy dose of ‘yes-please-I’ve-not-seen-you-since-Easter-and-I’m-dying-to-kiss-you-till-we’re-both-breathless’ on the side.
Instead of answering, he leans closer, nipping my earlobe between his teeth and making my entire center liquify.
“Hush up, Tink.” His tongue soothes the mark made by his teeth, as I subconsciously squirm against the saddle. “We’re almost there.”
Knowing he means business, I settle back against him, inhaling his intoxicating outdoorsy scent until Marshal’s gait begins to make my eyelids droop. I’ve almost succumbed to impending slumber when we stop with Ford whispering against the shell of my ear.
“We’re here.”
Ensuring my hands are gripping Marshal’s reins, he slips down from behind to ease me from the saddle and into his waiting embrace. Neither of us touches the blindfold as his arms encircle me, and his mouth descends upon mine with a hunger that rivals my own.
I hum against him as my arms loop around his neck to tug him closer. His palms slide lower, cupping my ass cheeks, flexing to fist the material, and making me groan into his mouth.
The taste of his kiss is addictive, sending my heart rate spiraling out of control as his tongue strokes against mine, fiery and passionate until he breaks the kiss, panting when he palms the nape of my neck.
His free hand reaches up to remove the blindfold from my eyes, and it takes several blinks before I’m consumed by the blue gaze fixed on mine. Those eyes are almost shocking in their intensity, staggering me with the sheer emotion pouring from them.
Ford leans closer to kiss my lips chastely, his words ghosting over my mouth. “Your kiss is like coming home…”
His eyes flicker between mine as his right hand joins his left at the back of my neck, making it so that I couldn’t tear my gaze from his even if I wanted to.
“I’ve missed you so. Fucking. Much. ”
My heart swells to bursting as he presses a soft kiss to my lips, pulling back just enough to say, “Surprise!”
A smile spreads across his face before he angles me around to behold my surroundings.
My jaw drops open as tears prick my eyes at the beauty laid out before me.
Several weeping willows line the sides of a small lake, with Christmas lights strung between the boughs. Ford’s beloved acoustic guitar is propped against one tree, and by the water, a blanket of pillows is strewn with coral peony petals, their scent filling the air.
The twinkling lights flicker and dance on the serene water, and a bright smile blooms on my face when I spot a sheet pinned between two tree trunks.
“No better send-off than a movie night with my aspiring actress girlfriend, right?”
I lay my head against the bulge of his muscular bicep and sigh in sheer contentment. “If we have to be apart for the foreseeable future, I can’t think of any other way I’d prefer to spend your last night, Cowboy.”
Ford’s chest rumbles with a deep chuckle, and I can feel him fidget in his jeans pocket before the sound of “Iris,” one of my all-time favorite songs, fills the night surrounding us.
“But first…” he trails off as he extends a gentlemanly hand. His eyes pierce straight through me, searing this moment onto my soul as I accept it with an almost shy smile. “Dance with me.”
I step into his warm embrace, breathing him deeply into my lungs, getting drunk off the simple proximity of this man who’s become so much more than my obsession.
His eyes stay trained on mine for a beat until he drops his brow to mine, and my heart stills behind my breastbone as he huskily murmurs the lyrics.
The whole world melts away into nothing until it’s just him and I, safe within an impenetrable cocoon of our own making. As the final bars of the song crescendo, Ford leans closer to brush his lips over mine, whispering the last lines until the music fades.
And then he repeats them as he rises to his full height. “I just want you to know who I am…”
Resting my chin on his expansive chest, I grin impishly, utterly in awe of how perfect this moment is. “And who is it that you are, Mr Holloway?”
Without missing a beat, he reaches up to palm my cheeks, and my breath hitches as his eyes grow stormy.
“I am the lucky sonuvabitch who’s wholly ? —”
Kiss.
“Completely.”
Kiss.
“Hopelessly head over fuckin’ heels in love with you, Tink.”
It takes a beat for those words to sink in. Words I’ve longed to hear from his lips, and I gasp as my own love for this man whooshes through my veins.
“I love you, too ? —”
My words are cut off as Ford slams his mouth to mine, and ? —
“Are you ready to leave, Miss Hart?”
My eyes blow wide like saucers when they fly up to find Ford looking down at me.
As I make an exaggerated fuss of scrolling through my emails on my cell, I will my heartbeat to recede to a regular beat rather than the gallop it insists on in the aftermath of that accidental trip down memory lane.
“Umm…there’s been a change of plan. Hayley’s unwell, so I’m going to work here today. You can stay if you wish, though, of course, you are free to leave, Fo— Mr. Holloway .”
I glance up to find ocean-blue eyes dancing mischievously at my almost slip-up before he tips his head to one side in confusion. “With all due respect, you must know that can’t work. It’s too late to organize so many bodies in and out of Ataraxia, and besides, security is in place for the schedule you provided.”
We stare at one another, apparently at an impasse, until he asks, “Don’t you employ any other assistants?”
“ I do .” Lifting my chin defensively, I push myself to stand. “But Hayley knows how I like things done. She knows what questions to tell the interviewers to steer clear of. What angles work best for photographers in certain light, and all the other stuff, like scheduling and?—”
“I have security in place. There will be no changes.” His tone brooks no argument, and I frown in consternation as he finishes with a finality I know I can’t bargain with. “Everything will proceed as planned.”
Even so, I’m desperate here, so I try one final time to persuade him. “Hayley was supposed to help me run lines before the reshoot – which I have on Thursday, in case you’ve forgotten?—”
Except he cuts me off. Lips that I know to be insanely soft lift on each side before he composes himself to regard me with impassive eyes.
“Why do I get the distinct feeling that you’re being intentionally obtuse, Miss Hart?” Ford quirks a dark eyebrow, taunting me.
He’s not wrong. I could go without Hayley. After all, I’m only using her illness as my excuse to avoid being around him for any longer than absolutely necessary. Yet something about his words is akin to waving a red flag at a raging bull, and I find myself narrowing my eyes as I hold his laughter-filled gaze.
“I’ll be ready to leave in five.” Then I breeze past him with my head held high. “Try to keep up, Mr Holloway.”
And as I reach the arch leading into the hallway, I hear his deep voice call behind me, “Don’t worry, Miss Hart. I’m a fast study. I’ll take care of everything. Lines included.”