Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
F ord
We didn’t talk about what it meant. Didn’t define it. Didn’t wake up with some earth-shattering revelation. But being with her again after so many years—really with her—it was something I hadn’t let myself believe could ever happen again.
The last day in Whistler was quieter. There were panels, a few final meetings, but the space between us felt different.
Easier. She didn’t flinch when our hands brushed.
Didn’t look away when she caught me watching her across a room.
We grabbed takeout after the conference had wrapped up and ate it sitting cross-legged on her bed, laughing about the bad hotel wine and the even worse room service eggs from the morning before.
She let me tuck her into my side, her head on my chest like she belonged there.
And when I kissed her, it wasn’t rushed or frantic—it was slow. Certain .
I wanted more. I always do when it comes to her.
But it was enough.
We passed the two-hour drive home the next morning learning each other all over again.
All-time favorite songs. All-time worst haircuts.
Bad dates. Great concerts. Pet peeves. The little, seemingly unimportant things that you come to realize are actually pretty important after all.
But when I pulled up in front of her place, Landyn thanked me for the weekend like it was a meeting I’d scheduled and then she got out and walked inside without looking back.
Inside Cove, the building is quiet. It’s still too early for most of the team.
With the exception of Noah, that is, who tends to beat even me to the office.
I drop my things off in my office and then head toward the upper floor to find him camped out in the finance area in front of a stack of papers, red pen in hand.
His calm, cool perspective is exactly what I need right now.
“You know there’s software that does that for you now,” I say as I lean against the doorframe.
Noah glances up. “Yeah. I don’t trust it.”
I step inside. “You don’t trust most things.”
“And yet I still pick up your calls,” he says, still focused on his work.
I drop into the chair across from his desk. He watches me for a second, then caps the pen and sets the report aside. “You look like hell.”
“Thanks. You’re the second person to tell me that this week.”
He leans back, folding his arms over his chest. “You want to talk about it?”
I rub a hand over my face, not sure where to begin. “The weekend with Landyn was… a lot.”
He nods like he figured as much .
“It felt easy,” I add. “Being with her again, it felt like nothing had changed.”
“But something did,” he says.
I stare past him, jaw tightening. “Yeah, it did. She did. Or maybe I did. Or maybe there’s something she’s not saying and I’m just finally noticing.”
Noah studies me quietly, then says, “You trust her?”
I pause. “I want to.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
I meet his eyes, realizing that what he said is right.
I leave Noah’s office carrying more weight than I came in with.
His words echo in the back of my mind as I head down the hallway, past the glass-walled conference room and the open workstations.
The hum of Cove waking up for the day surrounds me: coffee brewing, keyboards tapping, someone laughing down the hall.
When I see her, my pace doesn’t slow. I make a path directly to her. She’s sitting there like it’s just another Monday morning, like she didn’t spend the weekend in my bed, in my arms, under my hands. When I reach her, she looks up like she’s surprised to see me.
“Can I see you in my office?” I ask, but it comes out sounding more like a demand.
Becca and Marco, who until a second ago were in their own world chatting at the table across from us, suddenly go silent.
Landyn nods. “Sure. Just give me a minute.”
I don’t wait. I don’t need to. She’ll come. I turn and walk back down the hall, chest tight, pulse loud in my ears. She knocks once and steps into my office without waiting for a reply, then she closes the door and leans against it with arms crossed and her guard up .
“You need to stop looking at me like that,” she says. “People are going to start talking.”
I let my eyes settle on her, taking in her crisp white blouse and fitted, knee-length black skirt, the ankle boots that show off her toned legs, and the way her hair is neatly pulled back from her face. “Let them.” I say with a smirk.
Her eyes narrow. “Ford?—”
“I miss you,” I say, because it’s the truth, and I’m tired of trying to hide it.
She blinks, caught off guard. “You saw me less than 24 hours ago.”
“Doesn’t matter.” I keep my voice steady, low. “Still true.”
I cross the room so I’m standing in front of her.
My hands move to her jaw, needing to touch her.
The way she instinctively leans into it, I know she needs the contact too.
She doesn’t say anything, but I see the hesitation in her eyes as she calculates the risk of being together like this in my office.
I lean forward and kiss her anyways, making it clear that I’m done pretending that we’re just colleagues, acquaintances, two people who knew each other once upon a time.
The kiss is slow and chaste and when I slowly pull away, I say, “Have lunch with me.”
Her brow lifts. “Today?”
“Yes. I need to go to Vietnam tomorrow. I’ll be gone the rest of the week. I’ll order lunch, we can eat in my office. I know what you like.”
She hesitates and for a second, I worry she might say no. But then she nods. “Okay.”
“Good.”
I watch her leave, then sink back into my chair, heart pounding. I’m relieved she agreed to have lunch with me, but one meal isn’t enough. One weekend wasn’t enough. I’m not sure anything ever will be. But it’s a start, and I’ll take whatever she’s willing to give me.
The next three hours pass so slowly it’s painful.
I have a to-do list a mile long to get ready for this unexpected trip to Asia, but I manage to accomplish exactly none of it.
Instead, I sit at my desk and re-hash the weekend we just spent together.
It was impressive watching Landyn work. Jesse had said she was damn good at what she does, and he was right.
And then afterwards, the nights I spent with her wrapped in my arms. The things she shared with me, and the things I know she’s still keeping hidden.
Finally, after I’ve checked my watch approximately 42 times, it’s noon, and there’s a soft knock on my office door. Right on time.
“Food’s already here,” I say as she steps inside, closing the door gently behind her. “Hope you’re still a fan of Chinese takeout.”
She arches a brow as she crosses the room. “Depends. Did you get spring rolls?”
I hold out a take-out box. “Two orders. I don’t share anymore.”
She smirks, but it fades as soon as her fingers brush mine when she takes the container. That one small touch has me instantly remembering her bare legs tangled in the hotel bed sheets.
I watch her settle into the chair across from me, folding one leg under her like she belongs here. She opens the lid, glancing at me through her lashes. “I’m not eating in here if this turns into a thing,” she says.
I lean back in my chair, my gaze steady. “What kind of thing?”
“The kind where you look at me like that.” Her voice is teasing, but there’s a warning in it .
“I can’t help it.”
“You could try.”
I shake my head once. “Not when you’re sitting across from me in that blouse looking as good as you do.”
Her lips part just slightly. Her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip and just like that, the space between us is too small. I take a bite of a roll—anything to distract my racing heart. Anything to stop myself from reaching out to her.
“You don’t make it easy,” I say quietly.
She leans forward, elbows on the desk now. “Make what easy?”
“You don’t make it easy for me to be careful. Here, in this office, alone with you.”
Her breath hitches, but she tries hard to hide it. I watch as she allows the silence to stretch on, then I tell her, “I want more of this.”
She doesn’t answer, but when she finally looks at me, it’s not caution I see in her eyes, it’s longing. I hold her gaze, seeing the heat in it, and I don’t care anymore that we’re in my office. I don’t care that she’s trying to keep this under control.
I rise from my chair slowly and walk around the desk, stopping to stand in front of her.
“I want more of this, Landyn,” I repeat. “I want more of you.”
Her throat works as she swallows. “Ford…”
I reach down and gently push her chair away from the desk, just enough so that I can step between her legs.
I take the container from her hand and set it on my desk.
She doesn’t stop me. Her hands stay in her lap, but her eyes flick to my mouth like she’s already tasting me.
I run my knuckles slowly along her jaw. “Relax, baby.”
She whispers, “Close the blinds. ”
I do, and when I turn back, I see she’s standing now, pressed against the edge of my desk, her eyes dark.
I step into her space again and cup the side of her face. My thumb grazes her bottom lip, and she leans into the touch like she’s already halfway gone. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” I murmur. “Not since the second I dropped you back off at the cottage.”
She grabs my shirt and that’s all I need. I kiss her—deep and sure, eliminating any space between us. She gasps against my mouth, and I swallow the sound as my hands slide down her back, anchoring her to me.
Her fingers fist in my shirt, pulling me closer, grinding against me as I press her back into the desk.
I’m worked up—more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life.
There’s a wildfire burning just beneath my skin, searing through every inch of me.
My palms are burning. My cheeks feel flushed.
And my cock? So hard it’s practically aching, demanding something, anything, to ease the pressure.
I reach into the front of my pants, adjusting my cock, and yeah, I can feel it.
I’m already wet at the tip, proof of just how far gone I am.
A shudder of arousal rips through me. Not small, not subtle.
It’s a full body, bone-deep shiver that grabs me by the shoulders and rattles me hard.
I don’t fight it because I wouldn’t know how.
“You do something to me,” I breathe against her lips. “Every damn time.”
Her mouth finds mine again—hotter now, more desperate—and when I lift her onto the edge of the desk, she wraps her legs around my waist like she remembers exactly how good we are like this.
My hand slips beneath her blouse, tracing the soft skin at her waist, then the edge of her bra.
She moans into my mouth, hips rolling forward, and I nearly lose my mind .
“You want me to stop?” I whisper against her neck.
“No,” she breathes. “God, no.”
I tug her blouse up, exposing her bra, the swell of her chest flushed and rising fast with every breath.
“I’m not going to fuck you on my desk,” I murmur, dragging my mouth down her throat .
“The first time I fuck you will be in my bed where I can take my time with you. But I want you to remember this every time you walk in here.”
She lets out a shaky, wrecked laugh. “Mission accomplished.”
I slide my hand under her skirt between her thighs and feel how soaked she is for me.
“Damn, June.”
She gasps as my fingers slide her underwear to the side, insert one, then two fingers, fuck her just right. Her head tips back, hands clinging to my shoulders as I work her slowly, methodically, just enough to make her tremble. Just enough to make her fall apart.
Right here.
Right now.
Mine.
She’s panting against my mouth now, her hands fisted in my shirt, her body tense and trembling under my touch.
I’m coming apart at the seams. My balls are drawn up tight, and the head of my cock is pressed uncomfortably against my zipper.
It’s overload and not nearly enough all at once.
The wrong kind of friction. The wrong kind of relief.
My fingers keep moving—quick, relentless strokes that I drag over every aching nerve, pushing deeper, curling just right, until she’s trembling and gasping my name like it’s the only word she knows. I feel it when she starts to lose it.
“Come on, Lan,” I whisper against her throat. “Let go for me. ”
Her hips jerk forward, her breath catches, and then she’s gasping my name like it’s the only thing holding her together.
She comes in my arms, quiet and desperate, her body arching off the desk.
I keep my hand there, holding her through it, watching every second of her unraveling and fuck, she’s beautiful like this.
Every part of me turns molten with lust as I watch her fall over the edge. Her head is arched back, her legs widened. Her eyes are closed, and she’s riding my fingers.
I come without warning—without even realizing it’s possible to come like this. From this. In my fucking pants. The pleasure is sharp, brutal, blinding—like a lightning strike that fractures me in half and leaves nothing but sensation behind.
It tears through me, raw and unstoppable, flooding out in hot, pulsing waves that short-circuit everything else. My mind blanks, my body jerks, and I’m lost to it.
By the time Landyn comes down from her own high, I’m still trying to remember how to breathe. She slumps forward, forehead resting on my shoulder, her breathing still uneven.
She pulls back just enough to look at me, cheeks flushed, pupils still blown wide and yeah, there’s something behind her eyes. Not regret, not quite. But something heavy. I smooth a hand over her hair. “You okay?”
She nods. “Yeah. Just…I didn’t expect that…here.”
“Me neither,” I say. “But I’m not sorry.”
She smiles, a little nervous, maybe, but genuine, and straightens her clothes. I help her down from the desk, keeping one hand on her hip until she’s steady. She walks to the door, then pauses with her hand on the knob.
“It’s hard to say no to you, Ford Winters.”
I grin. “Exactly as I planned. ”
She laughs, “Safe travels. I’ll see you when you get back.”
And then she slips out of my office, leaving behind the faintest scent of her perfume and a mess in my pants I need to clean up.