Chapter Eighteen
AFTER SHUTTING THE apartment door, Natalie stood in the low-ceilinged corridor for at least a full minute, torn between following through on her plan to leave, and saying “fuck it” and running back to Ford.
But going back would only bring more heartache.
She let out a deep breath before straightening and heading toward the stairs.
With any luck, Blitz had eaten the ridiculous note Natalie had written.
Writing it had seemed like a good idea when she thought she’d never see Ford again, but after facing him just now, she’d rather keep a shred of pride.
But, whatever. She still wouldn’t see him again, so who cared?
Her heart climbed into her throat, and the walls around her laughed wildly at her bravado.
The tears came then, and she rushed down the curving steps, eager to get away, as if the pain wouldn’t follow.
As if. She swiped at her damp face. Maybe someday she’d be able focus on how lucky she’d been to have this time with Ford—time she wouldn’t exchange even for a whole heart—but at the moment she couldn’t imagine it.
As she stepped off the landing next to the closed dance studio, her foot slipped out from under her. Her arms shot back to catch her fall as she landed hard on her butt. Pain seared her chest at the unexpected movement, and she cried out. Mother fucker.
She pressed her palm gently over her still tender bullet wound, fighting a sudden bout of nausea.
The throbbing in her backside was a mild annoyance in comparison.
Ears ringing, she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall, forcing herself to breath slowly for what felt like hours, until she could move safely to sit up straight.
Suddenly something poked her in the back. Twisting to look, she got a wet nose against her neck and a lick on her cheek. “Hi, Blitz.” Her pulse calmed even more as she ran her fingers through the dog’s damp-but-fluffy fur.
The slap of footsteps echoed off the walls and Ford rounded the bend in the stairs.
His hair had dried half spiky, and he wore nothing but jeans, his impressive torso on full display.
“Shit. Are you okay?” He slipped past Blitz and crouched in front of Natalie, resting a warm hand on her knee.
“I’m so sorry. I meant to come back and clean up the water, but—” He made a pained face. “Are you hurt?”
The dog tried to insert herself between them, nuzzling Nat’s leg, tail wagging.
He grabbed her collar and urged her to the side, his bare foot slipping on the wet tile.
“Blitz, sit.” Holding back the eager fuzzball with one hand, he braced his shoulder against the wall.
He gave Natalie’s thigh a gentle squeeze and caught her gaze.
“Hey.” His voice was soft, like a warm blanket. “What do you need?”
So many things. “Dry pants would be a good start.” A confusing combination of tears and laughter fought for dominance, giving her a headache.
She’d known leaving him would be difficult emotionally; she hadn’t expected it to be physically painful.
“If you wanted me to stay, you didn’t have to make me fall down the stairs. ”
Instead of the scowl—or even apology—she expected, he gave a short laugh, his blue eyes sparkling as he shook his head. “I love you.” The words were light, airy, playful. The way you might ask someone to marry you after tasting their amazing cooking.
Definitely not serious.
She froze, the smile that had been tugging at her lips slowly fading.
He couldn’t know how cruel it was for her to hear the words she’d craved for years thrown out so casually, merely to signal that her weird humor amused him.
Shifting into a coquettish head tilt, she looked at him from beneath her eyelashes.
“I’ll bet you say that to all the girls. ”
His grin slipped, and he caught her hand, his expression solemn. “I don’t, Nat. In fact, I never have.”
Her heart flopped right over in her chest. What was he saying?
“Are you kidding me right now?” She pulled back her hand like he’d burned her.
“You really think if you lay the L word on me, I’ll swoon at your feet and…
and…warm your bed for another day or two?
” God, she had to get away from him before he saw her cry.
The look on his face as he stood was some combination of bewilderment, irritation, and hurt. She wanted to slide into his warm arms and have him tell her he loved her repeatedly.
But it’d be a lie, and in a few days she’d be right back here, heart breaking all over again.
More importantly, the people she loved were in danger. “You know what? Never mind. Even if I returned these supposed feelings, protecting my family is my only priority now.”
Ford sighed. “Nat, I get that. And I’m not trying to manipulate you.
” His hand raked through his hair, leaving behind rows like a plowed field.
“I just—” He winced. Took a deep breath and let it out slowly, lowering himself to sit beside her, apparently unconcerned about the puddle’s impact on his already wet jeans. “Remember I told you my brother died?”
She nodded, afraid of derailing him with words or touch.
He rested his forearms on his knees, shoulders rigid, and stared down the steps.
“I was there when it happened. We were bouldering in Joshua Tree, and…he slipped.” His face pinched and he rubbed his eyes.
“I tried to redirect his fall to the mats, protect his head the way we’d learned to, but he fell badly and—” Ford’s voice cracked, and his head dropped forward.
Nat couldn’t hold out another second. She scooted over until their hips touched, and placed her hand on his thigh.
“I checked the weather and packed plenty of water. But I couldn’t get Con to wear a helmet.
And I couldn’t get him to stop climbing too high.
And it pissed me off because I’d gone with him so our mom wouldn’t worry about him out there alone, but he wouldn’t fucking listen.
He thought it was funny, pushing every single button I had.
Called me a nag, and God he wasn’t wrong, but he could be so impulsive, and I was sick of having to worry about him all the time, so I yelled that he was being an asshole and told him to come the fuck down.
And he looked over his shoulder and started yelling back, but it threw off his balance…
” A harsh breath heaved out of him, and he swallowed hard.
Fucking hell. “That must’ve been awful.” Jesus. No wonder he was a mess. A guy like him couldn’t help but blame himself. “I’m so sorry you went through that, and I’m sorry Connor died, but you have to know it’s not your fault.”
He scoffed. “I literally nagged him to death.”
Anger at whatever had made this amazing man think he was responsible for everyone roiled in her chest, but she tamped it down.
“No. It was bad luck, Ford.” And some poor decisions on his brother’s part.
“Connor was a grown-ass man, responsible for his own safety. You did the best you could, and he was lucky to have you with him.”
A long sigh shuddered out of him. “Rationally, I think I know that. Enough people—including my parents—have said so, but I still feel partly responsible.”
“I think most people would. Maybe it’s okay to stop fighting it, and instead do your best to forgive yourself for your role in what happened.” Lord knew that was easier said than done.
He finally looked up, his expression so vulnerable it hurt. “That works for you?”
She gave him an are-you-for-real look. “Hell no. I stuff that shit down and pretend it never happened.” Sadly, not an exaggeration.
A laugh burst out of him, but he quickly sobered. “Look, I didn’t tell you about Con to fish for emotional support. I was trying to explain why I never let myself get serious about anyone. His death hit me so hard, I couldn’t imagine opening myself up to that kind of loss again.”
Her heart fluttered. Did that mean…? “And then I come along—” she leaned back and gestured to herself with a sideways look “—irresistible obviously.”
His lips quirked. “Obviously.”
“But I’m all free-spirited and reckless…too much like him, and it freaks you out.”
His chin pulled back. “No. That’s not—” A groove appeared between his brows and he grimaced.
“Maybe it did, early on. But only because it gave me the excuse I needed to protect myself. You’re not reckless.
Not really.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb, sending a little shiver of desire to her toes.
“You are so much more than the show you put on.”
Her heart stampeded across her sternum and her face heated. “You think so?”
“I know it.” He scooted closer, his gaze soft. “You’re a woman of many layers.”
“Like an onion.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Yes, definitely. Or a parfait. I hear everybody loves those.”
Oh, my God. Grinning, she said, “I love that you’re paraphrasing Shrek to me right now.”
Touching the tip of her nose, he said, “I love you. And whether you’re an onion or a dessert, I love all of your layers.”
She blinked, her throat tightening. Was he for real? “The ones you’ve seen, anyway.” Her voice came out breathier, less flippant than intended. He had no idea about the dark memories she fought so hard to suppress. “Why the sudden one-eighty?”
He sighed, his mouth twisting. “I know this feels sudden to you, but if I’m honest, it’s been there a long time.
I didn’t want to admit it, but you should’ve seen me when Blitz and I got caught in the rain this morning.
I wasn’t running to escape the storm. I was running back to you.
” His large, warm hand slid across the nape of her neck.
“Nat, my heart skips a beat every time you enter the room. I’m awestruck by you. ”
She flashed hot and cold, not sure whether to trust what she thought was happening. Maybe she’d hit her head and lay broken and unconscious at the bottom of the stairs.
Ford’s eyes sparked with heat. “You’re intelligent, fierce, adventurous…
And sexy as hell. The minute you walked out the door, I knew I’d fucked up.
I’ve been such a coward, so afraid of loving someone who might leave me in one way or another, that I vowed to avoid it at all costs.
When you left, I realized it had happened anyway.
And this time it was unarguably my fault.
” His fingers threaded into her hair. “But this time I have a chance to fix it. I hope.”
She nodded, feeling buoyant.
“Actually, first I have a confession to make.” He rolled his lips between his teeth. “I found your note. Actually, Blitz did.”
She could feel the blush crawling up her face, but before she could think of a response, he said, “And I respectfully disagree. I do feel the same, and we are compatible. And you’re the bravest person I know. I was wrong for thinking you’d leave without a word, but I’m not wrong about that.”
She studied him, looking for any signs of deception, feeling a weird amalgam of joy, fear, and uncertainty. How much of his sudden revelation that he loved her was because he knew she was a sure thing?
He combed her hair back from her face, his gaze tender. As if reading her mind, he said, “I already figured out what an ass I’d been before Blitz brought me the note. My first instinct was to run after you, but you told me not to and I had to respect that. If I hadn’t heard you cry out—”
She kissed him. For him to go against every protective drive he had, merely because she’d asked him to… That was rare. Precious. She didn’t know if it would be enough to keep them together for the long term—assuming they even got that chance—but she finally believed that he loved her.
And goddamn he was an excellent kisser. Attentive, curious, playful…demanding. Shivers chased down her spine as he pulled her closer and she savored his heat, the scent of rain on his bare skin, the soft press of his lips—
Bzzzzz. Bzzzzz.
Her eyes popped open.
“Fuck.” Ford jerked back and dug the phone from his back pocket with a scowl.
She swayed toward him briefly, then snapped upright. Only a few people had his burner number.
“What is it?” He gave Nat an apologetic look that quickly morphed into a grim one. “Shit. That’s…probably not good. Thanks for calling.” He nodded absently. “Will do. Love ya. Bye.”
“What’s wrong?”
“That was my sister. The investigator who’s been looking for you?”
“Dave Hatch,” she said.
Ford nodded. “He’s dead.”