Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Objectively, Ford would have to say everything about tonight’s date was going well.
He and Colby met Miles at a pub in Boston close to the Chess location there.
It was lively without being so loud you couldn’t hear, and the food and drinks leaned toward delicious and adventurous.
Pub fare with flair—no suspenders or buttons in sight.
It was perfect for a trio of foodies who also leaned away from stuffy.
Miles was perfectly charming too, attentive to both him and Colby, equally interested in both of them, it seemed.
Ford couldn’t understand how. Not with Colby’s brightness, her joy lighting up the place.
He didn’t begrudge her the attention one bit.
Couldn’t fathom how he was getting an ounce of it.
Wearing that same orange and white polka-dot dress from the photoshoot, she was stunning.
And with the stress from the shoot that went better than expected long gone, she was loose, she was laughing, and she was everything Ford had ever wanted.
He mentally kicked himself for not telling her sooner.
Because there was no way he could measure up to Miles.
Sure, he took care of himself. He ran each morning, enjoyed the Chess goodness in moderation, and had a calendar reminder to get a haircut and beard trim once a month.
He looked attractive enough to catch Miles’s attention on a dating app, then keep it in person, but he was nowhere near as ruggedly, effortlessly handsome as the good doctor.
Nor did he have a job as stable as Miles’s.
Ford was relatively new to hospitality outside the kitchen.
He could flame out spectacularly, and then where would he go for work?
He’d have to leave Martha’s Vineyard, and he didn’t think he’d ever find a company as queer-friendly and great to work for as RH.
And then there was the sex. Miles could give Colby the penetration she enjoyed. Something Ford would never be able to give her. Something that had been a wrinkle in each of his other relationships and had played a not-insignificant part in his ex finding his way into his brother’s bed.
Was that why Colby had said yes to this date? To fill a void, to get something he couldn’t give her? But fuck if he didn’t want to give her everything else.
He lowered his chin, contemplating an excuse to leave so Colby could have the night, the celebration she deserved.
And when Miles laid a hand on Colby’s thigh, right where Ford had had his countless times, Ford nearly jumped out of his chair.
He had to get out of there before the sudden wave of jealousy sent words flying out of his mouth that he couldn’t take back.
“Shall we take this party to my place?” Miles said, giving Ford the opening he needed.
Except Colby stepped into it first. “Can I get a raincheck?” she said, and Ford whipped his gaze to her, thrown for a loop. “I’ve got some reshoots to do tomorrow,” she carried on. “And I don’t think being worn out from a night full of sex is an acceptable no-show excuse.”
Miles chuckled. “I like where your head’s at. Not that it benefits me.”
“Well, it can,” she said before splitting a suggestive smile between them. “Ford, you should stay and enjoy the night.”
His head spun, having no idea where Colby’s was at.
She didn’t have reshoots tomorrow, she’d agreed to this triple date first, and she’d been flirting with Miles all night.
But now she wanted to leave? Ford didn’t know where to pick up that handoff in the state he was in.
He had no choice but to bail too. “I’d feel better if I caught the ferry back with you. ”
Her grin turned into a scowl that thankfully Miles missed, the other man angling toward him. “Well, aren’t you Mr. Chivalrous?”
“This is totally me making sure she gets from point A to point B.” He held his breath, hoping Colby would play along, that his best friend would have his back.
“I have zero sense of direction,” she said, and Ford exhaled his sigh through his nose. “I need a recipe for life.”
“Don’t you have a GPS?” Miles said.
“Yes. Ford.”
That earned her one of Miles’s big booming laughs, and several heads turned their direction. Interested looks among them. Ford didn’t think Miles would be going home alone tonight if he didn’t want to.
“Fair enough,” he said, standing from his chair and accompanying them to the door. He held it open for them, then with a tip of his head and a knowing grin, added, “When you two are ready for a new ingredient, call me.”
The door had barely closed when Colby rounded on him and thunked his chest with her clutch. “I laid up the ball. You were supposed to dunk it.”
Clasping her elbow, he moved them out from in front of the door and around the corner, out of view of the pub’s windows. “I was getting ready to leave. And you don’t have reshoots tomorrow. Why’d you lie?”
“Any time he touched me tonight, your shoulders went from here”—she shimmied her nearly bare shoulders where they were, then hiked them up around her ears—“to here.” She rummaged in her clutch for something; he suspected for the hair tie that was on her wrist. “Someone’s possessive.”
Not in the way she thought. The jealousy tonight, that day in Chess, the words that had escaped then, that almost had tonight, all to save the thing—the joy—he didn’t want to lose. “Colby—”
“You’re not polyamorous, that’s fine, and you don’t have to be to make me happy. Polyam people can be in monogamous relationships.”
“It’s on your wrist.”
She shoved her purse at him, freeing her hands to tie up her hair as she continued to ramble. “Miles seems like a good guy. He’s not bi-phobic, and I’m sure he also wouldn’t care that you’re not polyamorous.”
He didn’t care that Miles wouldn’t care. “Colby—”
Hair in a messy knot, she dropped one arm and held the other out, back toward the front of the pub. “You want a shot at Dr. Silver Fox, go. Before someone else snatches him up for the night.”
He finally let the words go. “It’s not him I’m possessive about. It’s you.”