EMERSON
My eyes flutter open as the smell of coffee and bacon assaults my nose, making my stomach complain loudly.
When I push myself upright, I take in the room with fresh eyes. Neutral tones of beige and white surround me. Light and airy, with massive windows overlooking smaller buildings in the neighborhood. As my eyes continue to examine the space, I smile softly to myself when I spot Ford’s familiar black cowboyhat atop a dresser to my right. His acoustic guitar rests against the dresser, a bright orange guitar pick tucked between the neck strings.
The sun shines onto the bed, her rays warming me as I stretch leisurely, feeling more rested than I have in years.
I kick my legs over the bed, curling my toes in the plush carpet beneath my feet before I cross to the ensuite. Having quickly freshened up, I check myself in the mirror and nod at what I find.
You’ll have to do.
My stomach dips, remembering the ICON gala and the events that had led me to stay here last night instead of returning to Ataraxia. As I recall how I’d told Ford of the pain I’ve continually carried with me in all the years after his disappearance, an ache spreads across my chest.
But I realize now, having shared the burden, it doesn’t feel quite so unbearable any longer.
The thought lightens my steps as I pad barefoot from the ensuite through the master bedroom and follow the divine smell of breakfast out into the living area.
An enormous L-shaped couch and built-in fireplace dominate the space as I bypass it in search of sustenance, which I find seconds later when I step through a wide arch into a galley-style kitchen.
Ford’s bare, muscular back faces me, beaded with sweat as he cooks over a large skillet.
Low-slung black workout shorts hug his ass, stopping mid-thigh and showcasing random tattoos interspersed across both legs. I take a beat to appreciate the ink, noticing a Mustang like his quarter horse Marshal on one calf and a silhouette of a willow tree, seemingly a nod to his mother’s stud ranch on the other.
Even though I’ve not made a sound, he calls out over his shoulder. “Hope you’re hungry. I’ve made enough to feed a small army.”
“How did you know I was there?”
I step closer with a smile in my voice as I slide onto a stool by the kitchen island.
Ford chuckles as he dishes up two gigantic plates, placing one before me. “It’sliterallymy job to notice things most people don’t. I heard you move when you woke up and figured it was only a matter of time before the smell of your favorite maple bacon reeled you in.”
“Mmm!”
“Now eat up.” His eyes are twinkling when he winks. “And when you’re done, you can confirm that it really does taste better with a little man sweat running through.”
I’m giggling at his silliness even as I shake my head before my eyes drop to the feast laid out for me, and I waste no time digging in. Pancakes, eggs sunny side up, sausage links, grits, and his divine maple bacon are demolished alongside a mug of steaming hot coffee with the perfect amount of sweetener, just the way I like it.
I can feel Ford’s gaze on me the entire time, but it isn’t until I’ve laid my knife and fork down on my almost empty plate that I meet his eyes. There’s laughter lurking in those oceanic depths as he quirks an eyebrow.
“Man sweat for the win, right?”
I snort and pick up my coffee, shrugging as a hint of a smile touches my lips. “I mean, my plate speaks for itself.”
His blue eyes never leave mine, deepening almost to black as they rake across my face.
“I’ll cook for you every day if it means you’ll eat more’n a bird-sized portion, Tink.”
My cheeks heat as I sip my coffee, and his lips spread in a broad smile that sets butterflies swarming in my stomach before his deep chuckle resounds through the kitchen.
“Gets me every time.”
When I frown in confusion, he reaches between us to run the backs of his fingers over my cheek. “That damn blush.”
The blush in question deepens, tension zapping through the air between us, but before I can reply, his cell rings, and he grabs it, pressing it to his ear with a terse, “Holloway speaking.”
I can just about make out a deep male voice on the other end before Ford hangs up with a growl. “Shit!”
His expression is thunderous when he drops the cell into his gym shorts pocket, and all my senses are suddenly on high alert.
