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Amber moves to put an arm around Farrah. “We’ll be here waiting for you.”
When I move in to hug my mother goodbye, I notice her jaw works like she’s grinding her teeth. I’m positive she’s holding back scathing words about the man we once welcomed into the Remington family, despite the calm façade she’s putting on for my sister. Connor was a man they trusted to take care of their daughter. Forever. In sickness and in health. And he failed miserably.
I feel angry too, but I don’t have time to be getting into fights.
Hell, I can’t even find a moment to kiss my own damn wife.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-NINE
AMBER
After saying goodbye to Farrah and Sally, there’s a beat of awkwardness between Ford and me. And I hate it. It feels like neither of us knows how to act, now that we’re alone again. Especially after that kiss.
A kiss I definitely want to repeat, but I don’t know how he feels about it. Does he regret it? Does he want space?
We’re standing at the front window, side by side, watching his mother and sister drive away down the street lined with tasteful mansions similar to Ford’s. I can’t stand the uncomfortable tension between us another minute and move to walk back into the kitchen for more coffee. But Ford’s reflexes are fast, and he reaches out to grip my wrist—the one that doesn’t have a small still-healing scar.
“Please don’t go.” He looks at me, and I see the urgency in his eyes. He looks down at where his hand gently grasps my arm and moves his hand down, lacing our fingers together.
By some miracle, our hands fit perfectly together despite the size difference. The way his hand envelops mine is a small comfort. Like a miniature hug. Ford’s eyes look down to where our hands are joined.
Reaching up, I place a finger in that handsome chin dimple. The one I used to tease him about. I use my finger to urge his head back up so I can look into his eyes. When our eyes lock, I see the torment there, and my whole body heats.
There are no regrets in those warm, brown depths. Only longing. And perhaps a little fear? Maybe it scares him how much he wants this…how much he wants us. A feeling I can relate to. Ford isn’t one to express his feelings, to put into words what he’s thinking. But that’s what I need.
I can see on his face what he wants, but I need him to say it.
“Hey, Ford?”
“Yes,” he whispers.
“You’re doing that thing where you’re thinking on the inside, but I need to hear those thoughts…out here.” I move my hand from his chin to his cheek, enjoying the way his morning stubble brushes against the palm of my hand.
He breathes a soft laugh, barely audible. “Sorry.” He smirks. “It’s just that, I’m thinking I really want to kiss you again. And I’m thinking that I’m scared you might not want me to. And I’m also thinking that my feelings for you are much stronger than yours are for me.” He pauses. “And that’s okay, but I just need you to know that I do feel strongly about you. And I have for a long time.”
I hold his gaze. Shocked at his honesty, at how vulnerable he is being with his feelings.
His throat moves as he swallows. “And now I’m worried I said way more than I should have.”
Moving up to my tippy-toes, I throw my arms around his neck and press myself against him. His arms wrap around me in the most intoxicating embrace. My mouth brushes against his neck and I place a kiss there. His skin is hot beneath my lips, his familiar scent warm and comforting as it wraps around me.
“I’ve thought of nothing but that kiss for days,” I whisper against the strong column of his neck. Ford is strong everywhere, as solid as the oak tree we played under as children.
Ford continues holding me, and I don’t take the touch for granted. Because I know he doesn’t enjoy affection from everyone. This is special, this lingering physical contact. Testing the water, I tilt my head up, running the tip of my nose along his earlobe. I notice his hair has grown enough to touch the tops of his ears again, and I make a mental note to give him a haircut later.
I place a gentle kiss on his earlobe, and Ford inhales a sharp breath, his fingers digging into my back where he’s holding me. It’s not painful, just a firm pressure that makes my blood go from hot to boiling.
One of his hands moves up and threads into my hair, cradling the back of my head. He’s in control of my movements now, and I’m perfectly okay with that. Ford uses his hand to angle my head back, and then surges forward.
When his hot mouth lands on mine, I melt into him. And I love that he’s strong enough to support my body so I can go limp in his arms. The kiss is dreamlike, almost too perfect.
One of his hands moves down my back a little farther, resting right above the curve of my ass. I smile against his mouth, knowing he wants to move his hand lower, but he’s too much of a gentleman.
“What’s so amusing?” he whispers against my lips.
“Your self-control is admirable, but we are married, you know.”
