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“You call my woman Woody, we have a problem.” Ford drapes his arm around my shoulder, pressing his mouth to my head.
Talon and Ace share a look, smiling outright.
I nuzzle into Ford’s hold, sipping my drink and secretly wanting to dance in a circle. The conversation from earlier pops into my head. “Are you going to tell me what Cruz and you were texting bout?”
His smug grin sets my insides into flight. “I asked how they felt about you having company in their home.”
My words from Sunday morning seem like forever ago. “And what did they say?”
“If I’m invited, they’re cool with it.”
Spontaneity… it’s new, it’s thrilling, and a little terrifying at the same time. No telling what the night will bring, but I’m done holding on to my reservations.
“You are definitely invited.”
10
FORD
I clamp my jaw as Rowan’s knee closes around my hip, grazing my dick.
Rowdy drunks… bar brawls… boot camp… anything to help tame the throbbing in my cock.
My mind betrays me, winding back to the second Rowan stepped into the kitchen last night.
I took advantage of her momentary distraction to fully take her in. The dress, hair, shoes—all fucking gorgeous. But it was the glow on her face and brightness in her eyes that struck me hardest.
I already knew where I stood, but in that instant, it became more.
And it was time she knew it, too.
Taking her to Tom’s was a risk. Cruz didn’t go into details, giving me just enough to know what happened the last time she was there scarred her.
All because of my stupid ass.
However long it takes, with each kiss, each touch, it’s my mission to erase the hurt and humiliation I caused.
She sighs, nuzzling into my neck, the warmth shooting straight back to my cock.
The shrill beeping of the alarm, followed by Pepper’s barking, has me on my feet, grabbing my gun from my bag. “Is that the alarm?” Rowan knifes up, her eyes darting around in terror.
I hand her my phone. “Stay here.”
“Should I call 9-1-1?”
“Not yet.” I’m on the move, slinking down the stairs, noting the front door is untouched and the intruder must be at the back.
Crouching behind the wall, I hear a muffled voice and fingers pounding the keyboard of the alarm.
“Don’t move!” I whip around, gun drawn, and catch the terror on the woman’s face before she trips over her foot and falls out the back door, screaming, “Gun! Gun!”
“Ford! Wait!” Rowan’s calls are drowned by the blaring of the alarm.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her racing to the panel at the front and punching in her code.
“I told you to stay put.” My gun stays trained on the door as I inch forward.
“Wait.” Rowan dashes by, but I hook her waist before she can get past me. “Aunt Chloe?” she calls, Pepper jumping wildly at us.
