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Amber moves toward me, bringing her small hand to my cheek, then leaning in and kissing the other cheek. The scent of her skin and her shampoo nearly knocks me off my feet. When she pulls back, I have to blink a few times to remember where I am. And for the disappointment to sink in that I had an opportunity to kiss this woman, and I missed it.
I mean, the cheek kiss was nice, don’t get me wrong. But having my lips pressed against her pillowy soft ones, so pink and glossy? With her feminine scent dancing around me? Ugh. Damn it, I want that kiss. I want to go back in time and start the ceremony again. To grab her and kiss her and see if it was as good as I know it would’ve been.
“Congratulations!” Susan says, coming toward us with paperwork to make this all official.
Amber signs the documents, then takes Nella from my arms so I can sign them too. I instantly miss the small weight and the warmth of her little baby self. It was oddly comforting, like a tiny weighted blanket.
Nella instantly starts fussing, and Amber sighs. “I guess she only wants you today.”
I sign my name on the documents, then turn and look at the red-haired mother and daughter duo. Something inside my head—and heart—throbs at the sight of them. My heartbeat now thrums with the word, mine, as I look at them.
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
AMBER
He bought me a truck. A truck. A brand new one. A shiny, red Ford F-150 that he says is very safe. Apparently, Ford purchased the truck via cash transfer two days ago, after our phone conversation about getting married. The title is in both of our names and everything.
The man doesn’t waste time, that’s for sure. We spent our wedding night packing up my meager belongings and crashed for the night in my lack-luster apartment. Definitely not the wedding or honeymoon Ford Remington deserves, but he never once complained.
And then he left to get breakfast and came back with my brand new, shiny red truck. The beast is loaded up with half the contents of my apartment, which is, of course, why he bought me a truck of all things. Only Ford would have the forethought to purchase a truck so I could bring as many of my belongings with me to D.C. as possible.
But how am I going to park this thing?
We’re now halfway into the six-ish hour drive to Ford’s place just outside D.C., in a luxurious Virginia neighborhood. Nella is fast asleep in her car seat behind me when I finally say, “I cannot believe you bought me a truck.”
His face doesn’t leave the road as he drives us home. Home…will it feel like home? Did my apartment in Ohio really feel like home? No, I suppose it didn’t. I think the only place that ever felt like home to me was when I was a child and I spent afternoons in the Remington house.
“It’s a wedding gift,” he says simply, his face giving no hint of humor.
“You can’t just buy me a vehicle, Ford.”
“Yes, I can.”
I cross my arms and look out my window, trying to ignore the large man sitting next to me, the man who takes up so much room I almost forget how big this truck is.
He sighs, and I can tell he’s looking at me. The skin on the back of my neck prickles, knowing his gaze is just there. “Ambs, your car was having too many issues for a road trip. The salesman gave me a decent trade-in value for it despite its transmission troubles, and your doctor said no more flying until you’re cleared after surgery. I want to take care of you. And Nella. And you need a safe and reliable vehicle. It’s just that simple.”
Slowly, I swivel to look at him. He’s looking at the road again now but glances at me for a second. His mouth in a thin, straight line. He’s worried. And I hate it when he worries.
“I’m not trying to be difficult. It’s just, I can never buy you gifts like this. It makes this feel uneven, you know? Like, I get all the benefits of this whole arrangement and you get nothing.”
I study his chiseled profile and relax when his mouth pulls up in a smirk.
“That’s ridiculous,” he says, removing one hand from the steering wheel and brushing it through his dark hair. He’s wearing his glasses, the dark rimmed ones that make him look even more handsome, somehow.
“Is it? What are you really getting out of this?”
He huffs a quiet laugh through his nose. “Everyone thinks I’m a loner, that I’m broken or something. You’re saving my reputation.” He looks at me again, his mouth still in a smirk. “You’re making me look like a cool husband and girl dad.”
I burst out laughing. “That’s the reputation you want? Sounds very…wholesome.”
He smiles. This is his rare but genuine smile, the one he gives when he’s totally relaxed and at ease with the person he’s talking to. A smile I always feel honored to be on the receiving end of. “That’s exactly the kind of reputation I want.”
I smile back because that’s so Ford. He’s never been a womanizer, or a rebel. He’s exactly the type to want a quiet life with a doting wife, sweet children, and probably a dog. And in two years, when our gig is up, I have no doubt he’ll find exactly that.
“Hey, why don’t you have a dog?” I ask out of the blue. His head tilts in my direction quickly before focusing on the highway again.
