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I yank the nightgown off and toss it into a trash bin Ford has in the corner of the room, then walk into his gigantic closet to find a comfortable oversized tee to wear to bed. He has his t-shirts neatly folded and stacked on a shelf, and I bend at the waist to snag one when I see a glossy, black shopping bag.
My eyebrows shoot up and I’m too curious not to investigate. I move the skates in front of the bag and pull it out. Removing the fancy tissue paper, my jaw drops when I see the most beautiful piece of lingerie I’ve ever set eyes on. As soon as my fingers glide over the fabric, I know it’s a hundred percent silk. The good stuff. My heartbeat quickens, and the blood in my veins warms until I feel like my whole body is on fire. I pull out the receipt and see he purchased this a week after we got married. Meaning he totally got this for me. But before we’d even kissed.
The thrill that runs through me is electrifying and probably a little silly. But after this hellish day, this was just the confidence booster I needed. I grab the white tee on top of the stack and tug it on over my head.
Then, with the black silk negligee in hand, I waltz into the bathroom. I can see my husband clearly through the glass doors of the large shower, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t take a moment to admire him. His physique is really something to behold, and the other day we were under the covers when we explored each other’s bodies. This time I have an undisturbed view of the man I get to call husband.
And what the hell…
“Ford Douglas Remington, you got a tattoo and never told me?”
He jumps, spinning to look at me. He turns off the water and grabs a towel from the rack, wrapping it around his waist as he steps out of the shower. But I can still see the top of his tattoo peeking out, right above where the defined V muscle meets his hip. Ford swallows, looking nervous, and runs a hand through his wet hair. Drops of water trail down his face and torso, and I am mesmerized.
I could sit here and study his body all day, but I really want to know more about this tattoo. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He looks down, then his gaze locks on mine through his dark, damp lashes. “I was embarrassed to tell anyone. I got it right after I moved from Ohio to D.C.” He sighs. “I missed you so much, Ambs. I just wanted a piece of you with me all the time. It sounds so stupid.” Ford groans and lowers the towel, just enough for his hip tattoo to be completely visible.
When the simple pink rose, outlined in black, comes into view, my vision blurs. I move forward, gently running a finger over the inked petals. The memory of all those times he brought me Pink Piano roses floods back to me. I can remember the way they smelled, and the summer breeze that tickled my skin when we would sit in Sally’s backyard garden with Moose.
“I love it,” I tell him, and his face softens…until he sees what’s in my hand. His eyes grow so wide, I have to laugh. “You’ve been keeping a lot of secrets, husband.”
“I can explain.”
I cross my arms over my chest and tap my foot, waiting for him to do the explaining.
“On our away trip, the guys wanted to shop for their wives, and you and I weren’t…you know. But they didn’t know that, and they were all, Come on, Remy, buy something for Amber. So, I just grabbed something and checked out.”
I bite my bottom lip, trying not to laugh. I can totally picture the whole scenario playing out, and Ford blushing the entire time. “So, you just picked the first thing you saw?”
He swallows thickly, his damp skin turning red. “Not exactly.” He tightens the towel around his waist. “I might have shopped around…a little. I wanted to be convincing.” Ford’s eyes drop down to the negligee in question.
“And you never pictured me wearing it?”
Ford scrubs a hand down his face. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as if he’s deeply pondering how to prove his innocence.
But I don’t want him to be innocent. I want him to admit that he pictured me wearing this, and that’s why he bought it.
“You know,” I start, bringing one finger to his bare chest and pressing lightly. “If you had asked nicely, I probably wouldn’t have even complained about wearing it for you.”
His eyes snap up to my face. They’re impossibly wide, like a cartoon character.
“Really?”
“Yep.” I remove my hand, spinning on my heel and walking out of the bathroom.
Ford wastes no time. He’s hot on my trail. “What can I do to get you to wear it now?”
I give him a coy smile over my shoulder. “Hmm. Let me think.”
He comes up behind me and picks me up, gently laying me on the bed and lying next to me. “I’d do anything for you. I’ll get you whatever you want. just tell me what it is, and it’s yours.”
Bringing my hand up, I cup his jaw, relishing the rough feel of the stubble on his face. “I don’t need anything, Ford. Just you.”
Ford takes my chin in his thumb and forefinger and tilts my head up. He kisses me slowly. Tenderly. With more tenderness than anyone would think this big, brutal hockey player could muster. “It’s always been you, Ambs.” He pulls back, smirking. “Now, will you pretty-please wear that black silky thing to bed tonight?”
My head falls back as I laugh, and Ford joins me. Laughing after this emotional day feels so good, and I know that all our days will be like this. That even on the worst days, we’ll find things to laugh about, things to take joy in.
Life with Ford will be a full life indeed.
