Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
FORD
My feet continue to pace a hole in the floor of my temporary bedroom as I grit my jaw, dreading the afternoon and evening to come.
An early dinner followed by drinks at Rogue with none other than asshat extraordinaire, Mr. Lawson Wilde.
Fuck. My. Life.
As I’m thinking through ways to avoid playing chaperone to the woman I love and the idiot she’s now seeing—including, and not limited to, calling in bomb threats—I hear Emmy’s footsteps in the living room.
Shoving down my disgust at the thoughts of what’s to come, I quickly move to join her, intent on stealing a couple of minutes of alone time just for myself. But when my eyes land on her, standing in the center of the living room, scrolling through her cell phone, I stop dead in my tracks.
She’s wearing a simple A-line crocheted, spaghetti-strapped white dress that stops below her knee. Her golden tresses are pulled back in a sleek, low ponytail, and her makeup is minimal except for eye-catching red lipstick. Dainty white low-heeled sandals and a striking red clutch that matches her lips finish the look.
When she lifts her head to meet my eyes, it’s like a physical blow to my chest, and I almost stagger backward underneath the weight of how earth-shatteringly beautiful this woman is.
“Are you ready to go?”
Her question punches through the haze surrounding me, and I square my shoulders as I stand taller.
“Everything is in place. We’re meeting Mr. Wilde at Devereaux in thirty minutes.” She nods in acknowledgment as I continue. “If we leave now, we’ll make great time.”
She glances about the space, her eyes lingering on the couch for a beat before her shoulders sag almost wistfully. “Okay then, let’s go.”
We quickly make our way to the underground parking garage and pull out into Saturday evening traffic.
“The dress for the ICON gala tomorrow night was delivered while you were getting ready.”
Her eyes meet mine in the rearview, a smile lighting up her face. “I’m really excited to wear it. I don’t typically enjoy these kinds of events, but I’m presenting an award to Mimi Harper, who went to stage school with my mom, so…” She shrugs as she squints her eyes in thought. “I dunno, this one has meaning, I guess.”
Silence follows for a beat until she voices a softly spoken question. “Will you be there?”
Our eyes hold in the rearview as I wait for the light to change. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away, Emerson.”
Her eyes fill with gratitude before she drops them from mine, and I shift into drive. A comfortable silence surrounds us for a long while until we’re just minutes away from Devereaux .
“One hundred and eleven domestic events, was it?”
I nod soundlessly, keeping my eyes fixed on the slow-moving traffic surrounding the town car.
“I don’t want to assume anything, Ford, but did you… Did you know that I?—”
Traffic comes to a standstill, and she slams to a halt when my stormy gaze finds hers in the rearview.
Call it temporary insanity.
Call it jealousy at the thought of her spending an evening with someone who’s not me.
Call it some crazy desire to heed Gray’s words about second chances yesterday…because the admission is out of my mouth before I can find it in me to care about the repercussions.
“I created Sentinel with the singular purpose of securing those contracts, Tink. So I could have some small piece of your life, even when I knew I didn’t deserve to be part of it. So that I could protect you from afar. Watch over you. Keep you safe. Cared for. Happy . Because in all the years since I left you, not a moment has passed when you haven’t been at the center of everything I do.”
Her lips part when she inhales a sharp breath, and her eyes fill with a blend of confusion, curiosity, and something I can’t quite put my finger on until I shift my gaze back to the street, pulling up at Devereaux a moment later.
Without giving her a chance to question me, I slide out of the driver’s side door, noting the currently well-behaved paps waiting for their money shots of the couple of the hour before I open hers, keeping my eyes fixed firmly on the pavement beneath my feet.
After slipping out of the car with the elegance of a swan, Emmy stops and places her hand over mine where I’m gripping the door handle. She brushes the pad of her thumb across the back of my knuckles ever-so-gently, and the simple gesture almost makes my heart stop.
“I’m glad you didn’t leave New York.”
I raise my eyes to hers to see she’s smiling, and I nod with a half-smile of my own. Right here, in this moment, I’m unsure of what just passed between us, yet I’m entirely positive the already shifting dynamic between us is now irrevocably altered.
“I’m glad, too.” My voice is a deep rumble from my chest, constricted by the emotions rising within me as Emmy drops her hand from mine.
Our gazes hold for an indefinite period, and the thought flashes through my mind that I’m not strong enough to stop this.
Whatever this is.
Though if I’m honest with myself, deep down inside, I don’t want to.
EMERSON
As I slowly chew my first bite of dessert, I can feel Ford’s stoic presence over by the bar as plainly as if he were by my side, and I’m powerless against the pull to glance in his direction.
Our gazes clash and hold as though connected by an invisible tether, until the flash from a camera outside the window directly to my right catches me off guard.
Considering this is a fake-dating situation designed to ensure tabloid coverage that will potentially boost the release of Breaking Us , Beck had been adamant that Ford’s new system to keep the paparazzi at bay was not allowed to come into play tonight. And with the more flashes I’m subjected to, the more I’ve come to realize just how much I hate this side of the life I lead.
“Lay one on me, sugar tits.”
Shifting my attention back to my smirking fake boyfriend, I narrow my eyes playfully.
“Sugar tits? Really ?”
Lawson nods smugly, dunking his fork into my caramel pecan cheesecake, heedless of my cries of reproach. “All good boyfriends have a nickname for their girl, right?”
I deadpan as he chews his thieved mouthful of my dessert. “ Sugar tits ?”
He leans closer as mischief colors his features, and his voice drops to a low murmur. “And what did he call you?”
I freeze for a moment, furrowing my brow even as my stomach bottoms out. “What did who call me?”
Law flicks his gaze toward the bar, tilting his head to one side as he regards me with knowing eyes. “Mr. Tall, Dark, and Broody over there.”
He throws back his head at my feigned look of confusion, laughing boisterously before meeting my eyes again. “Wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out you two have a history. The dude looks like he’d love nothing more than to string me up by the short and curlies and beat me with a baseball bat every time I’m within two feet of you.”
“No, he doesn’t…” I trail off when I look toward Ford, finding him glowering at Lawson before he can school his features.
Law bursts out laughing before reaching a hand out beneath the table to rest it lightly on my knee. “Quick! If you look now, you’ll witness his head imploding.”
“Lawson!” Even as I admonish him, I can’t keep the grin off my face. “Why do you like to fuck with people so much?”
He shrugs as he takes a sip of his beer. “It’s fun to see how far I can take it before things go to shit.”
Before I can ask him to elaborate, his cell rings from its place on the table between us.
I nod that he’s good to take it, so he grins, swiping to answer on the third ring. “Wilde by name, Wilde by nature. How may I assist you today?”
I snort into my dessert at Law’s typical no-shits-given behavior before taking another bite.
As my companion for the evening discusses an upcoming event back in the UK, I lift my head and glance around the restaurant. My gaze finds Ford’s back almost immediately as he converses with one of his Sentinel staff.
Kyle, I think. Or maybe it’s Thom…
My eyes rake across his entire form, noting the impeccable cut of his black suit that fits his body as though made for it. His broad shoulders fill the jacket to perfection, and the pants hug his tight ass in a way that makes me suck my bottom lip between my teeth, inhaling sharply as all manner of depraved thoughts flood my mind.
Sure, I’ve kissed others since being with Ford, but the fear of intimacy…the memories surrounding those days after his departure and how that time continues to haunt me, have always stopped me from taking things much further beyond kissing. As such, I’ve never experienced a connection like ours with anyone else.
And so, Ford Holloway and the way he made me feel—and apparently, continues to make me feel—has been the yardstick I’ve measured all others by, finding every other man to be lacking in one way or another.
Several flashes from outside make me blink in earnest, frowning in consternation as Ford finishes his conversation with Kyle.
My cell chimes with a text, and I quickly open it with a smile.
DAD
Sorry I missed our usual call this week. I’ll be Stateside by the end of the month. Will make it up to you then.
I shake my head with a chuckle. The man has been a workaholic for as long as I can remember, and ever since he’d been sent to head up the Brussels branch of Newman Harris, the investment firm he works for, he’s been even worse. But his work makes him happy, and in a world where happiness can be hard to come by, who am I to judge?
ME
No problem, Dad. I’ll catch you when you’re back in the city. Love you x
Law ends his call at the same time I hit send, then he shoots me a broad wink.
“Ready to hit up Rogue, sugar tits?”
I gently place my fork on my empty dessert plate, shaking my head with a good-natured eye roll.
“There’s a first time for everything, I guess.”
“It’s your first…” Lawson freezes in the middle of rising to stand, his lips parting in surprise and lifting in a shit-eating grin. “ Oh , my little Rogue virgin, we’re in for a treat tonight.”
Then he looks past me to Ford before meeting my gaze again. His eyes dance devilishly as he arches an eyebrow.
“I wonder just how far I can push him before he loses his shit completely.”