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“I know it’s your favorite, but you don’t eat it very often.” Ford pushes the dish toward me.
“Thank you.” Shaking, I lift the fork.
I was overweight as a kid, and my father gave me drugs to lose weight. His brand was perfection. A fat son hurt that.
It’s why I don’t fault Bernadette for her size or look at her with any kind of negativity.
In fact, I’m jealous as hell of how she embraces her curves and is making a career out of sharing that confidence with other women like her.
“You’re too thin.” Ford grabs his fork.
“You’re a beast. Everyone is thin to you.” Staring into his eyes, I realize how much I’ve missed him.
“Thisbeastmisses you.” He reaches down between his legs. “I masturbated for months thinking of your mouth around my cock. The only person who even came close to satisfying me like that was Bernadette. Maybe that’s no accident.”
“She blew you?” I drop my fork.
Ford smiles.
It’s shocking to hear how a woman I’m falling for got on her knees to blow someone else.
But one, we put her in a position to be shared by all of us.
And two, it’s hard to resist Ford Montgomery.
I couldn’t.
Picturing him feeding sweet Bernie his cock gets me so hot. I trust she wouldn’t have gotten down on her knees if she didn’t want to. She’s all strength and conviction.
And Ford is the definition of beauty and charisma. He’s arrogant enough to make people do what he wants.
“Accident?” That word just hit me.
“After all this time, a beautiful woman falls into our laps? Some random asshole who happens to work for a company I represented is her ex? And makes her hire me?” He shakes his head. “She was sent to heal us. And we can heal her in the process.”
I didn’t think he could be so poetic. Or think beyond his own needs. It’s that southern preachy side of him.
During the meal, Ford lets me babble about the surgery today, the challenges my patient faces, andhow the foundation is doing.
It makes me think of Bernadette, and I’m uplifted that I’ll see her tomorrow night.
But Ford is forcing me to consider sinking back into what we had. He wants to add Bernie to that, but she’s leaving New York.
And he’s scheming a fast one to keep her with us.
TWENTY
ASHTON
Ford and I finish dinner, and he leans back, his arm draped over the back of the chair.
“You think you’re hot shit, closing this place down, huh?” I chide him because I hate to admit, when he gets mad, I find him even hotter.
“Got a problem with that?” He sips the cup of espresso put down in front of him, followed by one for me. Ones I didn’t see him order. “I want us to be who we really are.”
I shake my head and press my hands together, hands that save lives, made by a man who destroys them.
“I don’t think we can go back to who we were. We just fell into each other last time. It was too consuming. No woman would have survived us last time.”
