25. Emzee
EMZEECHAPTER 25
I ’d set my alarm early so I’d have enough time to shower and pack and join my brothers on their chartered flight back home to Chicago.
But when it went off, and it was still dark out, I couldn’t make myself get up.
Especially with Ford curled up in bed beside me.
Luckily, I didn’t have much time to consider my options.
Ford had already reached over and turned off the alarm, pulling me into his arms.
Well.
With that decision made, I snuggled into his embrace and fell back asleep.
Hours later, I woke up again—this time with Ford’s head between my thighs, his thumb pressed against my clit, his tongue lapping me up.
“Mmm,” I murmured, spreading my legs wider.
“Good morning.”
I fisted the sheets as his mouth worked me hard, trying to relax as the pleasure coursed through me.
There were plenty of worse ways to be woken up.
Soon enough, he was fucking me with his fingers, sucking my clit as his hand stretched my already sore body.
After the workout he gave me last night, it should have felt like too much, but it didn’t.
I came faster than I would have liked but not too hard, moaning dreamily.
It was the best kind of morning.
Or was it afternoon already?
Once I recovered from my unexpected wake-up orgasm, I rolled over and turned my phone back on, finding a few texts from my brothers waiting for me.
Assuming you’re catching a flight back with Mr.
Jealous , Luka had texted.
But lmk if you get stuck and we’ll book something for you asap.
This is a judgment-free zone .
And from Stefan: Talk soon and good luck with Ford.
Call if you need anything.
I sent a group text so my brothers would know I was safe with Ford and apologized for missing the flight, letting them know I had simply slept in.
I reassured them I’d be home soon and then sat up on the edge of the bed, stretching luxuriously.
The bedside clock said it was just past 10:30, which was a hell of a lot later than I usually got up but technically still counted as “morning”—which was good enough for me.
Plus, it felt nice to sleep in.
I couldn’t even be mad that Ford had shut off my phone to let me rest.
“I know you were planning to go back to Chicago with your brothers today,” Ford said, not looking even a little guilty about changing my plans by shutting my alarm off.
“But I have another plan.”
I raised my eyebrow.
I tried to be annoyed that he had made plans without consulting me, but it was nearly impossible to mad at that handsome, beat-up face.
“What’s the plan? Other than breakfast?” I asked as he came up behind me and started massaging my shoulders.
“God, that feels good.”
“The plan is…” he said, dropping kisses along my neck, “we order room service?—”
“I already like this plan,” I interrupted.
“And then…” He stopped with the massage, turning me around to face him.
“Look, I know you came here to get some space. Probably from me. But the thing is, we need space together, too. Away from all the bullshit back home.”
Nodding, I said, “I know. It’s a lot to deal with.”
“So let’s get away. From my parents and Claudia and even your family. You have your passport, right?”
“Yeah, but…exactly how far are we going?” I asked.
“Will we be crossing time zones?”
Ford cupped my face in his hands and pressed a soft kiss to my lips.
“It’s a surprise. Do you trust me?”
“I—yes,” I said.
He grinned.
“Good. Why don’t you hop in the shower while I order up some breakfast from room service, and then we’ll eat and head out? I’ll see if they have an avocado eggs benedict for you.”
The man had memorized my go-to breakfast order.
How could he not be a keeper?
“Sounds perfect,” I told him.
By the time we got down to the lobby, I was bursting with excitement.
And as it turned out, I had every reason to be.
After a short flight of less than one hour, Ford rented a car and drove us across the U.
S.
border to the Canadian side of Niagara Falls.
I’d never been before, and the place was more majestic than I could have imagined.
“What do you think?” Ford asked as we pulled into the parking area.
“Worth it?”
“God, yes. This is incredible,” I said, already hanging halfway out the window to get a better view of the rainbows shimmering in the mist at the base of the falls.
After we parked, Ford took my hand and walked me right up to the rail beside the falls so we could hear the rush of the water pounding like thunder, feel the fine, cool spray hitting our faces.
With all the natural beauty of the flora and fauna around us, I almost felt like I’d been transported to a magical land.
Ford got us ice cream cones, and we strolled around for a bit, window shopping and just enjoying each other’s company.
I was grateful he had suggested I bring my camera, because Niagara Falls was a photographer’s dream.
Not only was the landscape stunning to behold, but with all the tourists coming to see the falls, there were plenty of opportunities to take candid shots of excited pets and laughing kids.
I couldn’t wait to go over them later in our hotel room.
Pretty soon, my stomach was starting to rumble in earnest.
It was getting close to dinner time, and the snacks we’d had on the plane hardly counted as lunch, in my book.
“Should we eat soon?” I asked.
“Don’t you worry,” Ford said, wrapping his arm around me.
“Everything’s under control. Speaking of which, we’d better head back to the car.”
As if our trip to Niagara Falls wasn’t romantic enough, Ford told me he’d made us a reservation for dinner at sunset at the Skylon tower, which had a slowly rotating dining room offering 360-degree views, perched almost a thousand feet off the ground.
Sitting at our table, it really felt like we were floating directly above the falls.
Thrilling and terrifying and wonderful all at once.
Ford seemed amused by my inability to tear my gaze from the wall of windows and the spectacular bird’s-eye view.
“Should I order for us?” he teased, refilling my wineglass.
“I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you straight up ignore a restaurant menu.”
“Ha ha,” I shot back.
“But seriously, this is just gorgeous. Thank you, Ford.”
“Don’t thank me. I didn’t make the falls,” he said with a smile.
“I mean it,” I said, turning to look at him.
“Thank you for this whole day.”
Before I could say more, our waitress reappeared and—just as promised—Ford ordered for both of us.
And he ordered half the menu, it seemed.
Seared scallops over spinach, lobster tails with lemon garlic butter, steak, vegetable sides, crème br?lée and amaretto torte for dessert.
“You’re a monster,” I told him afterward.
“There’s no way we’re going to be able to eat all of that.”
“You should at least taste it all,” he said.
“I want you to have everything good.”
“Do you?” I asked, raising a brow.
“I do.”
He took my hands across the table, and I searched his eyes, seeing the sincerity there.
His words seemed like they carried more weight than a casual dinner conversation would imply.
Then the waitress came back to drop off a basket of hot bread and a plate of olive oil and herbs.
“Bet you’re glad you brought your camera,” Ford said as we tore the bread apart.
Nodding, I passed it over to him so he could click through some of the digital photos.
Laughing, he tilted the tiny screen toward me.
“This one’s great.”
It was.
A small Vietnamese boy, not more than four years old I’d guess, was chasing a flapping pigeon that had a French fry hanging from its mouth.
I’d gotten that shot purely by luck.
But more than the camera, I realized, I was glad that I had Ford with me.
What was happening between us?
It felt like more than friendship.
More than sex.
I wondered if I could trust it, trust him—if I could believe in us.
One day didn’t erase all the problems we’d had, the years of his manipulations and our unbalanced power dynamic.
And who could say that Claudia wouldn’t be back with her finger crooked at him?
Could I picture Ford truly standing up to his parents and declaring his love for me?
Fighting to keep me, to keep our marriage intact?
Honestly, no.
I couldn’t.
At the same time, I couldn’t have pictured the sex we’d had last night either.
The hand holding, the eye contact.
Yet it had happened.
Today had happened.
Ford’s hands had been on me ever since we woke up this morning, and his affection and warmth had continued all the way up until now.
Our relationship had been such a roller-coaster ride, but one thing that seemed consistent was the way it was constantly shifting, deepening, strengthening.
Through thick and thin, for better or worse, we were growing closer by the day.
It was undeniable.
Still, I couldn’t just abandon reality and jump wholeheartedly into the fantasy version of our marriage.
The fact was, I had an agreement with the Malones to divorce Ford in less than a year.
And that was after Ford had drawn up a contract with me that essentially said the same thing, though for very different reasons.
This…
thing between us, whatever it was, and no matter how nice it felt in the moment, was too good to be true in the long run.
It wasn’t meant to last.
But for today, I could pretend.
Let myself forget the act, have one perfect vacation day, a second honeymoon—one where I could believe we were embarking on a fresh new beginning, rather than stealing a few quiet moments that would eventually have to end.
I was so entranced by the view of the sunset (and my tangled web of thoughts) that I couldn’t make myself turn away from the candy-like splashes of color until I smelled the food being set down on our tablecloth.
“Everything looks so delicious,” I practically moaned, my mouth watering.
“Make sure you save room for dessert,” Ford reminded me with a wink.
The table was practically overflowing with French onion soup, perfectly cooked steak and lobster tails, fresh smoked Canadian salmon, the scallops, roasted zucchini and shiitakes.
I didn’t even remember Ford ordering half the dishes spread out before us.
As we ate, the sun dropped into the horizon, leaving trails of bright pink and orange across the sky.
By the time our desserts came out, I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to eat them.
“I don’t know if I can stand another bite,” I said, sighing as I looked down at the plates.
“Oh, I think you can,” Ford said, picking up a spoon.
I watched as he tapped the crème br?lée, cracking the caramelized layer of burnt sugar on top, and then scooped up a perfect mouthful of custard and topping.
“Open wide,” he said.
Blushing, I obeyed, and he slipped the spoon between my lips, locking eyes with me as I sucked the dessert into my mouth.
“Mmm,” I moaned.
Glancing around the dining room, I realized we were at one of the only tables that was still occupied.
It was almost like we had the restaurant all to ourselves.
“Now the chocolate.”
“As my lady commands,” Ford said, smiling devilishly.
My husband went on feeding me dessert, kissing me between bites, and I reveled in the romance of it all as we sat perched among the stars, with eyes for nothing and no one but each other.