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That’s the issue when you’ve lived in the same small town for the most part of your life. The dating pool is limited. And past a certain age, the few men you might have been compatible with are in a relationship, have started their family, or proven to not be life partner material. But what’s a girl to do? I tried the big city life for a few years after I graduated from college. Had a fancy CPA firm job and all. It wasn’t for me. I’m happy here in good Ole Monterey, surrounded by my crazy tribe of parents, siblings, uncles, aunts, cousins, nieces and nephews.
So here I am on a Saturday afternoon, spending time with my best girl, my niece, Ana. She’s a basketball die-hard like me, and her mom, my sister, is on weekend errands duty. So I volunteered to bring Ana to this amazing event.
There was no way I would have let her miss this. We got to listen to veritable living legends who grew up here, talk about their youth, their brilliant careers, what drives them. And one of them is no other than Malik, The King, Ford… AKA,my husband. Not the kind you’re legally married to. No, the kind you’ve been obsessed with for most of your life and never thought you’d ever see in the flesh.
The walls of my childhood bedroom are still plastered with posters of him. I remember laying in my bed for hours staring at the one on the ceiling. Studying the chiseled lines of his handsome face, the sinews of his muscles, remembering the way he sounded on TV, and making up fantasies about us meeting and falling in love. I’ve kissed the back of my hand, my pillow and my shower wall endless times, imagining it was Malik Ford’s luscious lips.
Yeah, it’s a good thing one mom pulled me into an endless conversation when we were in the line to go meet him. I can’t imagine how I would have behaved standing that close to the man. Just sitting a couple or rows back in the audience, watching him on stage, I almost peed myself.Malik freaking Ford.
Also, television screens don’t prepare you for how extraordinarily tall and large these men truly are. Six feet seven? No big deal in a playoff game where ten giants go after each other on the court. But standing this close in real life? I was spellbound. Just how could a human being be so freaking huge and still so magnificently beautiful?
Because Malik Ford is a thing of beauty. Amazing bone structure. All sharp lines, strong jaw, intense eyes, straight nose and sculpted lips. Deep brown, velvety skin. Muscles, on top of muscles, on top of piles of goddamn muscles. Big, square shoulders. Huge hands, and still his fingers, are long and elegant. A wide, muscled chest, strong legs. Short cropped hair and a neatly trimmed scruff. Absolutely delicious. I stared unashamedly, storing mental images for future use. When I’d find myself alone. In my bed. With my hands between my thighs…
An excited voice calling my name pulls me out of my naughty reverie. Ana has returned. Her face is split in a smile so wide I can only shake my head.
“You talked to him?”
She nods.
“How is he?”
She squeals instead of answering with words.Yep, that’s my girl.
“That great, uh?”
She bobs her head so hard, I’m worried she’s gonna give herself a stiff neck.
“He’s super nice and funny and he said to come see him after for some swag,” Ana spills out in one breath.
“Ooohhhhh, swaaaag!” I exclaim in my own excited tone.
Seems like I will meet Malik Ford up close and personal after all.
* * *
When the auditorium empties up, Ana takes my hand and resolutely walks us to the back parking lot. The one reserved for deliveries and heavy vehicles.
I follow but still ask, “and where are we going?”
“To Malik’s car. He said the stuff is in his truck.”
“Oh it’s Malik to you?” I tease her with a smirk.
She just smirks back. And something in her cat-that-ate-the-canari expression tells me my little troublemaker is brewing something.
“Aaaanaa, what are you up to?” I ask.
She looks at me with a big, innocent smile, batting her lashes.Oh Lord.
When we reach the back parking lot, I spot Malik Ford nonchalantly standing with his hips resting on the back of his gleaming black Jag. His dark gray slacks and camel-colored cashmere sweater look straight out of a Tom Ford ad. They’re probably custom made. There is no other way a man this big can wear such elegant clothing.Lord.
He straightens from the car when he spots us, taking a few steps forward. A wide grin brightening his face. And increasing his already intolerable levels of hotness.God, just kill me now.I’m begging you.
“Hey Malik,” Ana exclaims, like she’s talking to her long lost best friend. Not the internationally known celebrity she just met.
My eyes fly to Malik Ford’s face and I read there the same expression of indulgent amusement most of our family wears around my niece. Poor guy is under her spell. The thought of something as crazy as this man thinking my baby girl is adorable fills my heart with warmth. Guess I don’t have to worry about meeting my idol. At least not on that front. A man who thinks Ana’s shenanigans are cute cannot be an ass.
We arrive in front of him and crane our necks to meet his warm, amused gaze. All four feet nothing of Ana and my five’ seven, dwarfed by his titanic presence.
