Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Neely
I peer around him.
Sure enough, my parents are pressed against the wall of glass windows around the door to Ford’s residence. And they don’t look pleased to see us coming out of the bathroom in nothing but matching towels.
“It could be worse,” I whisper. “We could be naked.”
Ford grunts. “Let’s get dressed.”
If we disappear into the bedroom together, my father might just break through the windows. “You go get dressed,” I say smoothly, with a confidence I am one hundred percent faking. “And I’ll let them in.”
“If you’re going to open that door, I’ll be right beside you.”
“That’s very sweet, but my dad might drag you outside, and it’s a bit cold for a towel only.” I pause for a second. “Please don’t kick his ass, okay?”
“He’s my oldest friend, Neely. Honor code demands I let him kick mine, anyway.”
“Nope, I don’t like that.” I shove him toward the bedroom.
“I’ll be ninety seconds, baby.”
I turn so my back is to my parents, just in case they can read lips. “Love you, Daddy.”
He grins.
Okay. We’re going to be okay.
Taking a deep breath, I unlock the door. “Merry Christmas!”
“Neely Anne McIntosh, what the hell are you doing?” my father barks.
My mom gives me a pained look. “Same question without the curse word, darling.”
“Come on in.” I step aside. “Ford is just—”
“We saw enough to guess what Ford is just—”
The subject of conversation steps into the room dressed exactly like the hot young Santa he promised me. “Neely, why don’t you get dressed.”
I scurry past him and lock myself in the bedroom.
Then I press myself against the door, trying to listen for violence.
I hear nothing. No murmurs, no breaking of furniture, nothing in between.
I’m not really sure what Ford thinks I’m going to wear today. But then I see he’s hung up my dress, and when I take it off the hanger, I realize my tights are carefully folded there, too.
Will the residents notice I’m wearing the same outfit as last night? Maybe not if they’re dazzled enough by my hot, older boyfriend.
I wriggle into the tights, smooth on the white dress, and dig my booties out from under the bed. I don’t think Ford owns a hairdryer, so air-dried finger waves will have to do.
I take a deep breath and open the bedroom door.
Ford is nowhere in sight.
Neither is my dad.
My mom is standing by the window, looking out at the ocean.
“Hi,” I breathe.
“This is quite the surprise.” She glances back at me. “They went outside to talk.”
“Ford said he’d have to let Dad kick his ass.” I wince. “Is he?”
“Your father wouldn’t do that.”
“Mom—”
“How long, Neely?”
Is twelve hours the wrong answer here? Probably. There’s no right answer to that question.
“Last night was the first time. It just happened.”
“Did he—”
I need her to not ask that, even though I know she’s my mom, and she probably has to ask. “I came on to him.”
“And is it—” This time, she’s the one who cuts herself off.
“I don’t know what to ask here. You’ve never dated anyone.
I thought you weren’t interested in that yet, which I realize is ridiculous.
You’re older than I was when I married your dad.
And I suppose now that I think about it, all the signs of a crush were there.
But Ford? I never thought he would. . .”
“He wouldn’t. If I hadn’t come on to him, he never would have.”
She presses her hand to her forehead. “Dare I ask what the Hot Santa get-up is about?”
The front door opens, and my dad steps inside.
Ford isn’t with him.
“What did you do?” I demand to know, whirling around.
“Calm down, Neely. He’s getting something from his truck.” My dad looks slightly uncomfortable but less angry than before. “And I thought we could have a minute to talk alone before he comes back.”
“I asked her if he forced her,” my mom says.
I glare at her. “And he didn’t.”
“It’s our job to ask.”
“Also your job to remember that I am an adult. And Ford is a very good man.” I could wind up for a long defense of my love, but I don’t need to.
My dad holds up his hands. “All right. He, uh, insists he has the best of intentions towards you.” The way he says it, I can see that it pains him to be this understanding.
But what he says next is softer. “And he says that he will do whatever it takes to make you happy, including stepping aside if that’s what you want. ”
Oh, no.
“That is not what I want.” I grab my mom’s hand and drag her over to where my dad is standing. Out the window, I see Ford standing just outside.
Watching, waiting. Letting me handle my parents and trusting me to get them on our side. I wish we’d had more time to talk about this, how we would break this to them.
“Look at him,” I say to them both. “He’s dressed up as Sexy Santa for a bunch of Conception Ridge’s finest senior citizens. That's not something Ford Gamble would do if not for love, right?”
My mom laughs. “It’s a good point. Although he only has that outfit because he agreed to play the role for you when you were little.”
“Father fucking Christmas,” my dad mutters. “You have him wrapped around your finger.”
“He’s a hip, young Father Christmas. More of a Daddy Christmas,” I say, knowing I’m toeing the line of what’s appropriate. But there’s a chance they may hear me slip and say that. Better if it’s a ha-ha Christmas joke than something. . . darker.
My parents choose not to react.
I choose to move on.
“He refused to let me spray his hair white. So he’s still Ford, you know?”
Mom is the one who cracks first. She nods. “I think we can be pretty understanding, given the right circumstances.”
“And what circumstances are those?”
Mom grins gleefully. “Ford joins us tonight for round two of carol singing.”
My dad shrugs. “I can’t argue with that.”
I give him a hug, then squeeze my mom. “Thanks.”
She squeezes me back. “Love you. Now go get your man. He has some senior citizens waiting for him who want to sit on his knee.”
Oh. Shit. I hadn’t thought that through.
She giggles and pokes at me. “The look on your face. So possessive of him already?”
“Susan,” my dad barks.
Ford opens the front door and steps inside.
All three of us laugh, and he looks between us in confusion. “All right?”
I nod as he moves to stand beside me. He doesn’t hesitate before tucking me against his body and wrapping his arm around me.
“We’ll get out of your hair,” Mom says. “And we’ll deal with your car later.”
“I’ll help her with it,” Ford says, his voice rumbling with confidence.
My dad sizes him up. “Dinner’s at five tonight. Don’t be late.”
I’m dying to know what their conversation outside was like.
And the second my parents are gone, heading back down the path, I turn on my brand-new boyfriend. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“How did you? What did you?”
“He told me he didn’t enjoy seeing his daughter come out of my bathroom in a towel. I told him it was none of his business, but for what it's worth, I like it so fucking much it hurts because you’re the ray of sunshine I’ve been waiting my whole adult life for.”
My jaw drops.
My heart explodes.
It takes me two tries to find my voice again. “And what did he say to that?”
“He said he wanted to punch me. I said I understood. He told me not to hurt you, and I promised I wouldn’t.”
“That’s it.”
“Yeah.”
“Wow.”
“It’ll take some time for him to trust this, but. . . he’s known me a long time, Neely. He can see that I’m changed because of you. You did that.”
I throw myself at him, and he spins me around. “I love you,” I whisper as I kiss him. “Also, I’m probably going to be jealous of some of the ladies at the retirement home. So just be warned about that.”
“I’ll keep them all at arm’s length because I’m a taken Santa.”
“By me,” I say in a little girl voice.
“That’s right. You’re Santa’s baby girl. Nobody else gets inside these suspenders.”
I giggle.
He kisses my nose. “Glad we got that cleared up. You looked so worried when I came inside.”
“Oh, that. . .” I wave my hand. “Parents and stuff.”
“And irrational jealousy,” he adds.
I roll my eyes. “Damn it, I thought I hid that better.”
“You have an expressive face.” The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Never change, Neely. Always be too innocent for this world.”
“I’m not—”
He cuts me off with a kiss. “I like the innocence,” he murmurs.
Oh.
I smile shyly. “Okay.”
“Shall we go?” He grabs my coat and scarf from by the fireplace and helps me get dressed for outside. He loans me a pair of gloves and brings a blanket to cover my legs in his truck.
“We’re going less than a mile,” I point out.
“You. Collapsed.”
“All right, blanket it is.” I snag my purse.