“The shit I used to make Beck do back then… We had this whole stretch of empty beach, but I’d still drag him downtown to the park to toss around a football, just because I knew you’d be studying in the gazebo.” I chuckled under my breath. “God, you’d get so mad at me whenever that ball landed anywhere near you. Say it was distracting you and thatsomeof us actually cared about our grades and our futures. We’d argue for five minutes, then I’d go back to playing catch with Beck, only for it to happen all over again. And then I’d dissect the interaction all the way home and force Beck to weigh in on it.”
I let the words hang in the air for a moment before I took a deep breath and admitted, “That’s probably why he thinks my agreeing to get married to you was a bad idea. Made it unbalanced… Because I’ve pretty much had a thing for you since we were fifteen. Beck says I’m obsessed, but I stand by the fact that I’m not at that level of creepy. I never Edward Cullen’ed it and watched you in your sleep or anything. Just basically jacked off to thoughts of you three or four times a day. So…not much different from when you moved back.”
I chuckled softly, but only silence greeted my confession. Shit. Had I gone too far? I hadn’t come right out and told her I loved her, but I might as well have. And I’d done it when her emotions were already high. When she was already feeling a loss…already overwhelmed.
I held my breath, waiting for her response.Hopingfor her response. When it didn’t come after long moments, I shifted and glanced down at her, only to find her fast asleep.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
QUINN
I feltlike I was waking up from the worst hangover I’d ever had. Even though I’d only shed a couple tears last night, and only because of the grief that came from losing someone under my care, my body felt like it’d been put through a blender, and I was still tangled up in knots.
I didn’t know where to go from here. Had no idea what the next steps would—or should—be. No idea what this meant for my job. For my dream.
Or for my marriage.
Last night, I’d lain with Ford’s heartbeat under my cheek, his soft, soothing voice lulling me into sleep. The last thing I remembered was him mentioning that awful cake he’d made in home ec our junior year. I’d been the guinea pig who’d had to suffer through that monstrosity because through some cruel twist of fate, we’d always been partnered together in our classes. It had been one of the reasons I’d hated him so much because it had given me a front-row seat to him slacking off and still somehow earning straight A’s, while I busted my ass for the same.
We’d definitely come a long way from high school rivals to what we were now. I’d been mad at him for so long, so certain that if things had only gone differently, I would’ve been happier. My parents would’ve been happier. They would’ve actually been proud of me…accepted me.
But I knew now there was no way that was ever going to happen. My parents would never be satisfied with anything I did, and I was done trying to appease them. Had stopped answering their calls. I hadn’t yet gotten up the nerve to block their numbers, but at least I was taking baby steps.
As for me… Well, I might not have gone to Harvard Med School like I’d wanted, but this life I had wasn’t so bad.
I reached out, brushing my fingertips over the arch of Ford’s brows, down the straight slope of his nose, and around his perfect, full lips, parted in sleep.
Talk about a twist of fate… Somehow, this man was mine.
I had him. Now I just needed to figure out a way tokeephim. Needed to figure out if he even wanted that.
I was more grateful than I could say that he’d spent last night filling my head with something other than the anxious thoughts that had consumed me since leaving the clinic. He’d looked after me. Taken care of me. And after a lifetime of having to protect myself from those who were supposed to do just that and did the opposite, this had become a welcome reprieve.
But today was a new day. And for the first time in my life, I didn’t know what the hell to do. Had no idea where to go from here because none of this was part of my Plans A through Z.
What I did know was that I had to get up. I had to get out of bed and do…something. I’d been in enough therapy and had enough experience to understand my triggers, and high stress…high emotions tended to send me down a path of negative self-talk. So that meant I had to pretend like this was just another day or I’d spiral into what-ifs and worst-case scenarios, and neither was a good place for me to be.
There were appointments on the schedule…patients to be seen. And now that Starlight Cove was down to one doctor, that meant everything landed on my shoulders. Even if the clinic wasn’t mine.
With one last look at my husband, I slid out from under his heavy arm and made my way into the bathroom to get ready. Once I was showered and dressed, I headed back into the bedroom, finding Ford still sleeping soundly. The sheet was pooled around his waist, revealing his bare back and teasing the upper curve of his ass. A mouthwatering sight, without a doubt.
Half of me wanted to slide right back under the covers with him. Wanted to forget yesterday. Forget today or tomorrow or next week. Forget that our expiration date was a giant red X looming on the calendar. Forget everything but what I felt when we were together.
What I’d begun to hope maybe he felt, too.
But the other half of me—the half that was in charge…the half that always did the right thing—knew I couldn’t. People needed me today, and I was the only one who could help.
Ford had been up just as late as I had—later, even—so I didn’t want to wake him. I’d let him sleep, and we could talk tonight. Figure things out. Maybe…maybe he felt the same as I did? Maybe we could actually turn this fake marriage into something real. Maybe I could somehow make him love me as much as I loved him.
I glanced around the kitchen, looking for a blank sheet of paper or an envelope to jot a note for him on, letting him know where I went. Peeking out from under Ford’s keys was a white napkin. Not ideal, but it would do. I pulled it out and grabbed a pen, but before I could scrawl my note, writing on the other side caught my eye. I flipped the napkin over, and my breath caught when the words registered in my brain.
It was our contract, with our expiration date circled.
That red X on the calendar that I hadn’t wanted to think about—that I’d thought…hoped…maybe he’d forgotten about—stared back at me. I hadn’t thought about this stupid napkin in weeks, but it was clear that wasn’t the same for Ford. Had he had it with him last night with the intent of…what? Showing me? Reminding me our time was up and he had better things to get to? That he’d done what he could to help me, but he was finished with the marriage? That he was finished withme?
My chest ached at the thought. That while I’d been falling in love with him despite my best efforts not to, he might’ve been counting down the days till the end. Just biding his time until he could get on with this life and go back to how things were before we’d said our vows. Before he’d called me his wife.
I braced myself on the counter and hung my head between my shoulders, closing my eyes and taking several long, deep breaths. That was my negative self-talk speaking. I had no proof that Ford thought that way. The reason this napkin was on the counter could be something totally innocuous. Maybe it was—
