Maybe Ava can come here…and the journos too. Sure, there’ll be rumors of what a diva I’m being, and it’ll be difficult to make it all work, but to avoid spending time alone with my ex, I’m willing to live with it.
I’m still thinking things through as I make my way to Ford’s room to let him know the change of plans for today, when I stop short outside the door. I can clearly hear him on his cell, delight present in his tone.
“You did it all on your own, Pest.” His deep chuckle reverberates through the heavy wooden door as I unintentionally eavesdrop. “Now put Mom on the line so we can lament her loss of another one of her children to the wonders of Manhattan.”
My lips curve upward when I hear Ford’s mom, Abigail, in her distinctively maternal voice as he puts her on the loudspeaker.
“If I didn’t know any better, baby, I’d be thinkin’ you pulled some strings to get that internship for our sheltered little Faith—” She breaks off in howling laughter, and I shamelessly press my ear to the door when I can just about make out another female—most likely Faith Holloway—protesting in the background.
Ford emits a low, rumbling laugh that makes my smile grow despite myself. I can practically see his face transform in my mind’s eye and my eyelids close as I allow myself to envision the beauty of his smile when it used to be aimed at me.
“You’ll be proud to know that Alex said it was entirely on her own merit, Momma. Despite her tender years, it seems that my Pest seems to know a teensy little bit about the advertising industry?—”
“Pffft! A teensy little bit? It’s called takin’ online classes, you great bigjackass. I may be sheltered, but I ain’tdead!” Faith’s voice rings out, making both her brother and mother laugh uproariously, and rather than interrupt, I step away, walking back toward the living space.
When I reach the sofa, I flop down onto it to wait for Ford. I’m sure he’ll be less than thrilled with how I’ve scuppered his plans, and God knows I could use more than a hot minute to gather my scattered thoughts.
I’m suddenly entirely sure that avoiding any unnecessary proximity today is the right call, even if it makes me look like a diva. After all, if simply listening to him through a closed door made my pulse race, how would I be after an entire day cooped up alongside him with no buffer?
Yeah, definitely the right move.
The cherry juice last night had been the barest tip of the iceberg, but even so, I felt some of the painstakingly laid brickwork in my defenses teeter.
Ford Holloway is still the owner of a heart bigger than the state of Texas, and that’s a solid blow to the gut.
Even at the age of twenty-two, being sent to the UK to run security for Caden North, one of the biggest music stars of the past decade, he’d ensured that I was secure in his feelings for me.
Despite his own inevitable anxieties about his impending job and the pressure his piece of shit father piled upon him, he’d gone above and beyond, giving me the knowledge that—at least at that time—we were forever.
And, like a flash, I’m transported to a time I haven’t allowed myself to recall in years.
A slight chill from the dropping temperature of the sun slowly disappearing beyond the horizon makes goosebumps scatter across my exposed skin.
Ford chuckles deep inside the broad chest that’s pressed against my back as we sit astride Marshal.
“What’s so funny, Mr. Mysterious?”
I can’t resist the barb. Ever since he came to Broken Hart yesterday to welcome Easton—and, by proxy, me—for the summer, my secret boyfriend has been giving off all sorts of cryptic vibes.
Sure, he’d been forthright in telling me and East how he’s being sent to head up security for Caden North in London for the coming months. My brother had left almost immediately after Ford’s disclosure—the main perk of my brother’s obsession with learning how to run Broken Hart being that he’sentirely blind to our relationship, at least until we’re ready to tell him—so I’d thought he’d fill me in then, but he’d changed the topic.
I am categorically positive that there’s something he’s not telling me, and I intend to find out.
So, when he’d turned up at my window thirty minutes ago, insisting that I accompany him while wearing a blindfold, I’d been both excited and confused, with a heavy dose of ‘yes-please-I’ve-not-seen-you-since-Easter-and-I’m-dying-to-kiss-you-till-we’re-both-breathless’ on the side.
Instead of answering, he leans closer, nipping my earlobe between his teeth and making my entire center liquify.
“Hush up, Tink.” His tongue soothes the mark made by his teeth, as I subconsciously squirm against the saddle. “We’re almost there.”
Knowing he means business, I settle back against him, inhaling his intoxicating outdoorsy scent until Marshal’s gait begins to make my eyelids droop. I’ve almost succumbed to impending slumber when we stop with Ford whispering against the shell of my ear.
“We’re here.”
Ensuring my hands are gripping Marshal’s reins, he slips down from behind to ease me from the saddle and into his waiting embrace. Neither of us touches the blindfold as his arms encircle me, and his mouth descends upon mine with a hunger that rivals my own.
I hum against him as my arms loop around his neck to tug him closer. His palms slide lower, cupping my ass cheeks, flexing to fist the material, and making me groan into his mouth.
The taste of his kiss is addictive, sending my heart rate spiraling out of control as his tongue strokes against mine,fiery and passionate until he breaks the kiss, panting when he palms the nape of my neck.
