CHAPTER 20 Tatum Barker
Butterflies
I stay the weekend in Vegas mainly to tie up any loose ends I have before I head back to Tampa for a while.
It’s open-ended, I guess. I’ll be throwing myself into planning Devon and Lindsay’s wedding, but my brand is destination forward, so I’m used to planning remotely.
I guess I just want to plan remotely from the humid beaches of Florida for a while instead of the dry desert.
It’s a three-hour time change plus a five-hour flight, and the direct options from Vegas to Tampa are few and far between. I book one on Monday afternoon that’ll get me in around seven, and when I texted Ford my details, his response was immediate.
Ford: Perfect. My place has been too quiet without you. I’ll pick you up by baggage claim.
That’s Ford. Reliable. Dependable. Kind.
I don’t know why I didn’t see that before. I mean, I did, but not to the extent I seem to be studying it now. Before, I didn’t allow it to be with anything other than friendliness as the motivator. But now, I look at everything through the lens of Archer’s words.
He’s in love with you, you know.
Those words play on a frustrating, endless loop in my mind. Interesting that those are the words on repeat and not Archer’s own words about how he wants me back.
I keep trying to pulse those words into my brain, but I can’t seem to muster them. I can only focus on the fact that Ford is in love with me, and everyone knows it except me.
And maybe I have feelings for him, too.
Feelings I pushed down and buried deep, feelings I never bothered to acknowledge because I couldn’t.
But I can now.
And I am.
I want to kiss him again.
Excluding the one that happened when I was just a kid, the first one took me off guard. The second was for pretend.
But what if it was just for us? No sexy cakes or fake relationships to cloud what’s happening, just an actual, real kiss. Tongue and everything. Maybe a little dry humping and feeling each other up for an extra win.
I intend to give it a try.
At least that’s my plan as I board the flight back to Tampa.
Halfway through it, I chicken out. What the hell am I thinking?
It’s Ford. One of my closest friends. The guy who has been there for me for more breakups and makeups with his brother than I can count.
He wouldn’t have done that if he was in love with me, would he have?
No. It’s a ridiculous notion. He would’ve stayed away if only to protect his heart.
Archer was just saying things. Trying to get into my head. Trying to confuse me.
But then…
I sigh heavily as I weigh it all over again. He’s been so flirty lately, and what was that kiss at the bakery? Or at Thanksgiving? And the boner…
God, I’m so confused.
And as we start our descent into Tampa International Airport, the butterflies start to kick up. They flap their wings heartily and strongly as I try to fight them off and keep them at bay, but they won’t be silenced.
I text him when I land so he knows he can leave his place because soon enough I’ll have my luggage, and then he can pull up to the curb outside baggage claim to pick me up.
Me: Landed!
His reply comes quickly.
Ford: Welcome back.
His two simple words feel like home, and I can’t really explain why. Maybe because I’m staying at Kenzie’s house back in Vegas, so it doesn’t really feel like home. It feels like I’m crashing on a friend’s couch.
I am here, too, in Tampa. That’s what this is. It’s not like I’m moving in with Ford. But it’s different staying with a single friend versus a whole perfect, bright-exposure little blonde family.
The flight attendant opens the forward door, and the butterflies pick up a few notches.
I follow the signs toward baggage claim, the butterflies flapping around so hard that my stomach feels like it’s twisting in knots, and part of me wishes Archer had never said those words to me. It’s pulsing this anxiety in me that I never feel around Ford.
I turn a corner to head toward the carousels, and that’s when I see him.
I didn’t expect him to come inside, but he’s here. He’s waiting for me, waiting to help me grab my suitcase off the belt and walk with me toward his car and take me home.
Home.
His eyes move to meet mine, and my pulse kicks up, and my heart pounds at a thunderous volume in my chest.
He’s wearing a hat to hopefully ward people off from recognizing him, but I’d recognize him anywhere. I freeze to the spot after I get off the escalator and move out of the way for a few beats as I study him, and it’s like this rush of feelings washes over me.
And then my legs start to move. It’s as if I can’t even control them as they carry me across the space separating me from Ford Bradley.
I rush into his waiting arms, and I collide with him as he pulls me in. I tilt up my chin to look into his eyes, and I see it there now. All the love Archer was talking about. He has feelings for me, and I have feelings for him, and there’s nothing standing in our way now.
I close my eyes and push to my tiptoes as his mouth crashes down to mine.
It’s a soft kiss at first, but it turns intense quickly as I kick up the speed, opening my mouth to his and feeling his tongue move with mine.
We kiss there in the airport by baggage claim like nobody’s watching, and I wrap my arms around him as he tightens his hold on me.
He shifts a little, and that’s when I feel his erection solid against my hip, more proof that he feels something for me.
We’re in public, though, and he’s a celebrity who’s trying not to draw attention to himself. So I pull back first.
He looks a little dazed, and to be honest, I feel a little dazed. More than a little, actually.
His eyes come into focus on mine, and there’s a question in them.
“I missed you,” I whisper.
He hauls me against him again, not in a kiss but in a fierce, warm embrace, and his arms are full of comfort as they surround me. “God, I missed you too.”
Now this feels like home.