Chapter 17 #2
“Bring a handful of those over,” he told her as he picked up the bowls and carried them to the farm table in the dining room. He placed them across from each other, continuing to give Colby space, not wanting to push, just wanting to make her feel better.
“It’s a little more substance than broth,” he said as she took a few cautious sips. “But it should still be gentle on your stomach.”
A few bigger spoonfuls and color began to brighten her cheeks. “This is great, Ford.”
“Meemaw used to make a version of it. Called it sick day soup. I always add ginger and lemon and prefer ramen noodles.”
“How is she?”
“Griff and I are moving her into a memory care facility this weekend.”
She paused midlift of her spoon.
He lowered his and folded his hands in his lap, hating to have to deliver this news now but sure she was already connecting the dots. “I’m sorry, Colby, but I can’t go to Chicago this weekend. I’m not sure if you still wanted me to, but I was really looking forward to cheering you on.”
She shot to her feet, spoon clattering into her bowl, bench scraping against the floor, and Ford felt like what little progress they’d made went flying out the window she turned to face, Colby staring out at the darkened sound.
“I know we said no expectations,” he rushed to add. “I’m sorry if I let—”
“Did you see Miles when you were in Boston?” she asked, cutting him off.
He didn’t follow the non sequitur but rolled with it to keep her talking. “No, not in Boston. He swung by here the other night when he was at MVH for the day. We just had a drink before he caught the ferry home.”
She leaned forward and bumped her forehead against the plate glass window. “I am such an idiot.”
“What—” he started to ask, but then the dots connected in his own head. Colby’s suitcase the night Miles had been here, the capped jar of peanut butter and papers shuffled around his desk, Colby dodging him ever since.
He could see how those disparate dots had connected in her head, and not in a good way. But it still didn’t explain the cold shoulder the ten days before then. Before he was able to ask, though, Colby muttered a curse, then covered her hand with her mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
Spinning, she bolted for the bathrooms, Ford fast on her heels.
She banged into one of them and fell to her knees in front of the toilet.
He kneeled behind her, holding back her hair that wanted to come loose as she heaved.
When she was done, he helped her get seated against the wall and reached past her to flush the toilet.
“I’m going to go get you some water. Will you be okay? ”
She nodded weakly, and he quickly fetched a bottle from the kitchen fridge. He returned to find her standing by the sink, rinsing out her mouth. She turned off the water, and he held the bottle out to her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t think the soup—”
“It wasn’t the soup. That was me regretting my life choices the past few weeks.” She sipped slowly from the bottle and stepped past him out to the bench by the host stand. He sat beside her, and she glanced over at him, smiling sheepishly. “You held my hair back for me.”
“I told you I would.” When she moved to avert her gaze, Ford curved a finger under her chin, keeping her face lifted. “Talk to me, Col.”
“I came back early,” she started, and he lowered his hand.
She took another drink of water, then held the bottle against her thigh, moving it like she would a rolling pin.
“I needed to apologize and explain and tell you all the things, and then I saw the Beard ceremony scribbled out on your calendar and you with Miles at the bar, and I thought I’d missed my chance. ”
A spark of hope flared—missed my chance. Ford wanted to run after it, what it might mean, but sensed the earlier part of Colby’s ramble needed to be unpacked first. “What did you need to apologize for?” he asked.
“For not taking your calls when I was on the road.”
“You were busy.”
She shook her head and rolled the bottle faster, the plastic creaking and cracking. “I was scared of disappointing you, of letting you down like Josh and Cooper and your family had, and then that’s exactly what I did.”
He gently tugged the bottle out of her hand. “Colby, you haven’t.” He clasped both her hands in his. “And if I made you feel like I expected more, I’m sorry. That wasn’t our deal.”
“But I want to change the deal.” She curled her fingers around his. “I want us to expect more than one day at a time. I want us to give this a shot, for real.”
The spark erupted into a blaze, warming him from the inside out, but he had to be sure what he was hearing, that they were both on the same page again. He tugged her closer and cupped her cheek, searching for the truth in her hazel eyes. “Colby, what are you saying?”
“I’ve fallen for you, Ford Rafferty.” She lifted her other hand and laid it over his chest. “I got scared, and I ran because the last thing I want to do is hurt this heart any more than it’s already been hurt. I’m sorry if that’s what I did, and if I’ve missed my chance—”
He shifted his hand, sliding a finger over her lips to silence the unnecessary apology. “I’ve fallen for you too, Colby Clarke. And if you hadn’t just puked, I’d kiss you.”
Her lips curled beneath his, the first real smile of hers he’d seen in weeks, and it felt like Christmas morning. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “I missed that smile, and I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” She lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles, the sentiment and the gesture unfortunately punctuated by the oven beeping from the kitchen.
He sighed extra dramatically, wanting to make her laugh, to see more of her gorgeous smile. “See?” he said, leaning back and brushing loose hair behind her ear. “Even if I had kissed you, the anti-sex muffins would’ve interrupted us.”
She groaned around a chuckle. “Julia is rolling over in her grave.”
Maybe, but worth it for that smile. He stood and offered her a hand up. “Let’s go take those out and finish cleaning up, then I’ll take you home.”
“Ford, I’m not in any shape—”
He shushed her with an arm around her shoulders and a kiss to her temple. “I just want to sleep with you in my arms tonight, if that’s okay with you?”
She looped an arm around his waist and tucked herself more snuggly against his side, the fit perfect. “That sounds wonderful.”