Page 45 of Falling for a Grumpy Hero

Ford and I had fallen into a routine over the last few days. He was returning to the office more often now. It had been almost a week since his accident. I spent most mornings there too, but in the afternoons, I went back to his house to keep working.

Almost all morning, my phone had been buzzing with weather notifications, all the apps warning of a massive storm heading our way. I’d woken up to sunshine and blue skies, but as I cycled over to Ford’s for my afternoon shift, I realized that a lot had changed while I’d been in the office.

In the distance, the sky seemed to be churning. Bruised purples and steel-gray clouds blocked out the sun. Lightning flickered behind those clouds, quick and silent, like it was sending a warning to those who were bothering to pay attention.

The scent of rain blew closer on each gust of warm, salty air whipping through my hair. I didn’t know the weather here that well yet, but it seemed like my apps might be right. It sure felt like a heavy downpour was coming our way.

A clap of thunder suddenly boomed directly above me and I jumped. My heart pounded and I stood up in an attempt to pedal faster. Thankfully, I’d just turned the final corner to Ford’s house. Just hold back a few more seconds!

Wind tore down the street, bending branches on the trees. The first drops of rain pelted down just moments before I reached his house. I carried my bicycle up the stairs, blowing out a sigh of relief. Whew.

I wiped away the few drops that had hit my cheeks and forehead, then knocked on his door, prepared for him to greet me as gruffly and curtly as he always did. He didn’t disappoint, sighing as he opened up.

Once again wearing a pair of sweats and a faded T-shirt, an old band tee this time, he ran those eyes up and down the length of my body before he brought his gaze to mine. “It’s raining and you’re wet. You do know you don’t constantly have to hang around, right? I would’ve been fine without you.”

“I know, but here I am anyway, and honestly, I wouldn’t have been anywhere else.” I smiled as he stepped aside to let me in. “I didn’t take you for a Beatles fan.”

“Is anyone not a fan of them?” He waved me in and I walked into the foyer, immediately grinning when Rook came barreling toward me.

As I greeted him, I looked over my shoulder at his human, noticing that Ford was a little less pale today. He’d only been at the office for a few minutes this morning and it seemed to have been a good thing that he’d mostly stayed off that leg.

“I suppose there have to be people out there that aren’t fans,” I said lightly, straightening up after saying hello to Rook and realizing that the house smelled like roast chicken. “Have you been cooking?”

He nodded, the tiniest hint of smile ghosting across those full lips. It’d been weighing on me that I hadn’t told him about Eliza’s plans. Especially since construction at the house was whizzing by. Within the next month, I’d actually be able to start making those plans come to fruition. But I was too surprised by this development to bring up what the client had asked me.

“Contrary to popular belief, I do know how to make food,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of the kitchen. “I’ve got a plate waiting for you.”

“Did you know I was coming?” I asked as I followed him deeper into the house. “How? I never tell you ahead of time because I know you’d tell me not to come.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t know you’re going to show up.” He motioned for me to take a seat at the counter when we reached the kitchen. As I sat down, he strode to the oven and grabbed a glove before sliding a plate out. “Don’t worry. It’s edible. I promise.”

Blinking back my surprise, I glanced at the food when he placed it down in front of me. “This smells delicious, and seriously, a homecooked lunch on a weekday? I don’t know if I’ve ever had that.”

He shrugged. “I had some time on my hands.”

When he handed over a knife and fork but didn’t make a move to get any food for himself, my eyes narrowed. “Am I eating alone?”

“Rook and I already ate.” He kicked a stool lightly away from the counter and lowered himself into it, sitting down with me.

I speared the fork into a piece of chicken, digging in to hide the fact that I was a bit taken aback by this impromptu meal. It felt like a romantic gesture, him cooking for me while a storm was raging outside, but I also might’ve been thinking about it a little too deeply.

Ultimately, even Ford Callahan had to eat, and obviously, he wasn’t half-bad at feeding himself.

I pointed at the food with my fork about halfway through my meal of chicken and vegetables, smiling. “This is really good. You might have to cook for me a lot more often now that you’ve let me in on your little secret.”

“It was never a secret.” His eyes rolled, but he didn’t seem as exasperated as usual.

If anything, he seemed to be growing increasingly more agitated. I just didn’t think it was because of me. With the storm rolling in, the thunder became loud enough to rattle the windows and wind was driving the rain against the glass. He gaze cut toward the kitchen window, his shoulders coming up as his uninjured leg started bouncing.

“Does this kind of weather bother you?” I asked quietly, concerned that the noise might trigger him. “I wouldn’t judge you if it does. I’m just wondering what I can do to help.”

“It doesn’t get to me so much anymore.” He watched me eat with that stiff set to his shoulders, his breathing too even to be completely natural. “When you’re done with that, I was, uh, hoping you would look over some of the planned renovations for Heritage House with me this afternoon.”

“You were?” I frowned, but joy erupted deep within my being. “Do you really want my opinion?”

“I do. You’ve been in contact with the clients a lot more than I have and I want to get this right.”

As I took my last bite, the lights suddenly flickered and the power shuddered out.