CHAPTER 13 Tatum Barker
Out of the Question
It’s not as fun to preview various vendors by myself, but it’s necessary today. Ford’s at practice, for one thing, but for another…
We kissed.
He kissed me.
I kissed back.
This is Ford. Ford Bradley! He’s my friend. He’s the one I turn to when I can’t turn to Archer.
Do I have feelings for him?
Only…
The kiss.
The kiss.
I think back to our first kiss again, back when I’d just finished my freshman year of high school, and I had a little crush on both Archer and his older brother, Ford.
Archer and I had classes together, so we spent more time together.
But if I was being really honest with myself, back then…it was Ford who I had the biggest crush on.
I swept that crush away when he seemed to sweep me away.
We kissed, and he pulled away. We never talked about it, and I assumed it was because he’d been drinking and didn’t even remember it happened.
Regardless, I was in his friend zone. He saw me as belonging to his brother, and I was probably too young for him anyway. We were only two years apart, but in high school, that mattered. He was a senior, and then he went off to college, and he got busy with football.
Archer and I grew up together during those years, and we grew closer when Ford wasn’t around as much.
I pushed aside my feelings for Ford since they weren’t reciprocated, and I got together with the other boy I had a crush on…
the one who happened to be Ford’s younger brother, the one who seemed to be the right pick for me.
But those old feelings are simmering at the surface again, and I can’t just set aside this newer kiss like it didn’t happen. It did happen, and it was magical. Thigh-clenching, belly-flipping, butterfly-flapping magic.
It was the first time I’ve kissed a man other than Archer since…well, since the last time we broke up, and I went out to a club with some friends, got a little tipsy, and let some guy kiss me on the dance floor. That had to be five years ago, and it was fairly forgettable.
The kiss last night with Ford was decidedly not forgettable since it’s basically all I’ve thought about for the last twelve—nope, wait—thirteen hours.
It was the honey. Was it the honey? The fig? Some mind-bending alternate universe?
I don’t know, but I’m not sure I ever imagined Ford and I would kiss again, and even if I ever did let the thought pop into my mind, I never could’ve possibly imagined how freaking hot it would be in reality.
But that’s what it was. Hot. Hotter than hot.
Unexpectedly hot. Surprisingly hot. There’s a chemistry there I wasn’t expecting from a friend.
And now I’m a jumbled puddle using phrases like hotter than hot because I can’t freaking think straight after what he did to me.
It was a kiss.
It was intimate and erotic, sexy and sensual, and now all I can think about is how if a kiss was that intense, what would more be like with him?
It’s out of the question. Obviously. I mean, come on. He’s Archer’s brother. The guy I dated on and off for the last seven or eight years. God, was it really that long?
We started dating when we were sophomores in college. I needed a date to a formal, and he was my go-to guy. I asked him, we got a little tipsy, and he kissed me at the end of the night.
“We’re doing this now?” I’d asked him. It was the one thing I always wanted, and he was finally giving in.
“Oh, we’re doing this now,” he’d said back to me, and then he went for it.
Like, went for it. It was urgent and intense and hot, and the sex later that night was, too.
It was always that way for us—urgent and intense and hot, but I think that’s sort of just Archer’s personality.
Eventually all that fizzles, and then you’re left with…
Well, you’re left at the end.
We were only together for two months the first time we broke up.
We were apart as long as we were together, and then we tried again.
That time stuck. We were together for a couple years, and then I think I got scared when he graduated college and went to the minors.
He spent a couple years in the minors, during which we were together.
Eventually, he got called up to the majors and started with the Vegas Heat.
He’s been there for four years now, and our relationship in-season was always more stable than out of season.
Probably because we hardly had time to spend together.
It’s easier to stay together when you’re never around someone.
But put one fiery, passionate person against another, and sometimes things just explode.
Ford is milder. Calmer. Softer. Gentler. He makes me that way, too. He rubs off those good traits on me when I feel like I’m a hot freaking mess.
And somehow, last night, he showed me that he has that urgent, intense side to him, too.
It was something I didn’t see coming, but now it’s something I want to explore.
Only—I can’t. Not with someone who’s putting up with me when I needed to leave town for a while, and it’s not just that we’re friends on top of him being my ex’s brother.
We’re becoming business partners in a sense, and it would be far too complicated to introduce any sort of feelings into that equation.
And so we won’t.
I’ll set aside whatever this is I’m feeling. It was just a surprise. Maybe even just a show for Calla so she’d think we were a couple, just like we let Ms. Winston believe we were.
It’s too soon anyway. Sure, things were over with Archer a long time ago, and yes, honestly, I’m pretty sure I’ve been ready to move on for some time.
I stayed because things were comfortable and because I liked our life.
We still had fun together even though the passion left, and I was content enough to stay if that’s what he wanted.
It wasn’t. And now here we are, and I won’t allow someone new to feel like a rebound because of some timeline imposed by societal standards.
Wait.
Is that why I set him up with Morgan?
What a confusing thought. Maybe those actual feelings I’ve relegated to the back burner were actually front and center much longer than I realized, and I tried to put him in a category of non-temptation by giving him a woman that seemed perfect for him.
But she wasn’t. And maybe she wasn’t because I am.
Or not.
I can’t let this become a mess, but it feels messy already.
I visit a few florists today, and I head home in Ford’s SUV, a black Range Rover that errs on the side of conservative rather than flashy like a lot of his teammates drive, yet is still totally luxurious.
I’m wondering what tonight will be like when he gets home. I’m nervous, actually. Will we talk about that kiss? Will he bring it up? Will I? Will he do it again?
As it turns out, the answer to all of that is no.
He brings dinner in. He asks about my day as we sit on his terrace and eat out of takeout boxes. I ask about his as we sip wine together.
The kiss doesn’t come up even though it’s simmering between us.
Maybe it never will come up again.
But that would be a real shame since all I can think about is when the next kiss will be.
As the week ramps toward the end, Ford gets busier preparing for his matchup against the Titans this Sunday. He travels with the team, and I watch from his condo while I keep busy checking tasks off my to-do list.
I talk with my financial people and get the money ready for my half of Winston Manor. Ford’s lawyer calls me to work out some of the details related to that, and I get in touch with my own lawyer to look over the contracts.
I book my flight back to Vegas for the day after Thanksgiving. I invite my family to Ford’s place for the holiday.
I shop for a turkey and all the traditional sides. My brother’s going to stop at a store on the way to bring the pies, and my mom’s bringing her sweet potato casserole since they’re driving up for the weekend. I’ll be doing the rest, which will be…interesting.
And a week and two days before Thanksgiving, on Ford’s day off, we head to an office downtown to meet with Ms. Winston and her lawyer. We sign the paperwork, my hand trembling as excitement courses through me.
When it’s all done, we’re co-owners of a manor. A freaking manor.
“Want to go see it?” Ford asks after we leave the office. Ms. Winston stayed with her lawyer to finish up additional paperwork, but she let us know she didn’t move a single thing since she was selling the manor as-is.
“Abso-friggin-lutely!” I practically yell, and he laughs as he picks me up and swings me around in a circle.
He sets me back down, and a heated moment passes between us.
He turns away first without a kiss this time, and I climb into the Range Rover as a jittery feeling settles over me.
I clutch the keys the entire way there, and once we pull in front of the gorgeous building, we walk up the sidewalk together toward the front door. I unlock it, and we walk inside.
I let out a breath, and I rush through toward the windows to take in the view.
“This is ours,” Ford says, stepping into place beside me. “Can you believe it?”
I glance over at him, and maybe it’s the way the light from outside is lighting his handsome face, or maybe I’m just nuts…but it feels like I’m seeing him in a whole new light.
This is ours. We own something together. We have this place that will tie us together for as long as we decide it will.
And it leaves me with a surprisingly giddy feeling.
I move away, breaking the spell holding our eyes together because I’m a little scared of what might happen if I don’t.
I do a twirl across the large ballroom, and I imagine the beautiful weddings that will take place here. In a dream, maybe my own someday. In reality, likely not.
I push out the punch of sadness that presses in my stomach, and instead, I set off to explore my new property with my new business partner.