“Okay. We don’t have to.”
He let out a breath and fell back to the bed. He seemed happy that I let it go. I fell with him. I rested my head on his chest and looked up to him.
“But,” I added.
He raised an eyebrow at me. Our faces were very close again.
“I think that right there, the reason you just told me, that’s what you tell people. That’s how you get your funding.”
He let out a sigh and focused on the ceiling. “People can’t know the sad truth of my life. I worked hard to present my best self to the world. If I shared the truth I’d be treated differently. I don’t want the pity or the judgment.”
I could tell this wasn’t the time to press, so I sucked my lips in. After a few more minutes of replaying our short history together, I said, “Well, that explains some things.”
“Like what? What do you mean?” His voice was guarded.
“Like that dancing. And your accent.”
He looked offended. “The dancing, yes. I went to plenty of bars and clubs when I was living fast. I knew the ladies liked it.” He actually blushed when he said it. Once again I could not connect this Ford to the man of his past. “Wait, what accent?”
“After you beat the shit out of those guys. You swore like the dirtiest biker I ever met.” I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out. “Sometimes when you get worked up you slip a little. I thought I was rubbing off on you.” I smiled and nuzzled into him.
He frowned. “And that’s why I don’t let that happen. It scares me.”
“What does?”
“Losing control.”
“It’s okay. I liked it.” I smiled and kissed his neck. It didn’t count here. We could be us here in my bedroom, away from prying eyes.
I breathed him in. My vision was blurring as my heavy eyelids fell closed. I snuggled closer to him. I should tell him to leave so there were no lines crossed. I should, I thought sleepily. I grabbed the blanket without moving off it and tucked it around us, making a Ford and Suzie burrito.
After a few minutes when our breaths evened out, lulling me to sleep, he whispered, “That scares me too.”
Chapter 22
Suzie
“Well, well, well. Look at you.” Gretchen whistled low.
I twirled around to show off my khaki colored apron already stained with coffee and then propped my hands like I was a little teapot.
“I know. I’m very official,” I said.
“I’m glad you got it. Lucas is a fair guy.”
“I didn’t have much of an interview. He asked if I could pour coffee and if I would show up. Next thing I know, I’m filling out my first W-9.”
She smiled coyly. “Very nice.”
There wasn’t a lot of business at The Coffee Shop right now but I wanted to make sure I didn’t upset the owner, Lucas Olsen. Thankfully, with the way Lucas snuck glances at Gretchen I didn’t think I had anything to worry about. Lucas was a very quiet artsy type for being such a large man. I knew almost nothing about him except that he owned the aptly named The Coffee Shop and The Bookstore and he always wore a beanie to cover his caveman hair and beard. He could have been anywhere from twenty to fifty.
“Does this mean you’re sticking around for a little while?” Gretchen leaned onto the counter.
A heavy weight filled my stomach at her question. “I’m working on a new image. You know that.”
Serving coffee in a college town was small beans compared to what I made dancing but getting out of the house each day was nice. Being in the college environment only helped my transformation. Already today I’d heard noteworthy conversation I could try out on Ford later.
She crossed her arms. The other ladies were already at the table and gave me a thumbs up when I looked at them. I had gotten their drinks mostly right. Though Roxy added a lot of sugar to her tea and I’m pretty sure Blithe dumped hers out in the planter, unless she drank it in one gulp when my back was turned.
