I needed clarification from Charlotte, I needed to tell her about my career, and I needed to do it now. And if the whole thing went tits up, I’d still have Erik’s backup plan.
––––––––
I SET MY phone aside, still smiling to myself. I’d had fun the past couple of weeks looking at recipes and finding pictures to send to Ford. Part of it was from a need to be in control—to try to manage everything—but the bigger part turned out to be the delight I felt looking at beautiful images of raw ingredients and carefully constructed dishes. And imagining Ford’s expression when he saw them.
I pictured him standing behind the bar, opening the text, seeing the toothy gator I’d picked, and smiling to himself. Assuming he was at work and not at home or somewhere. Running errands maybe. He had to buy groceries. I doubted he ordered that kind of stuff from a delivery service the way I did. Or maybe he did. I had no way of knowing. I didn’t even know his last name, something that hadn’t mattered at all in the beginning. That was before I spent so much of my time thinking about the man. Now it seemed like a gross oversight, and one we should probably rectify.
Whatever Ford and I ended up being to each other, I knew he wouldn’t stalk me online or flame me on social media, so the implied anonymity of no last names wasn’t relevant anymore—if it ever had been. With every minute we spent together, I was less clear about what I wanted from him. He made me imagine things I hadn’t admitted to myself before. The idea of a partner to share things with, someone who cared about me, who I could care about. The last time we’d been together had been so unexpectedly intimate but effortless too.
It felt like we were standing on the edge of something, and I needed to decide which way I wanted to go. That it even felt like there was a choice showed how far I’d come from my originalno relationship, no waystance. I just wasn’t sure how much farther I was willing to go. But if the alternative was walking away from whatever this thing was we were doing together—still wasn’t calling it a relationship or giving a name to my feelings—I wasn’t sure I was willing to do that either. Which meant I’d painted myself into a corner.
“Charlotte.” Alison stood in the doorway with an expression that made me suspect that wasn’t the first time she’d tried to get my attention. “It’s Mrs. Mendez.”
“She’s on the phone?” I seriously had to get my attention away from Ford and back on my work before things started to slip through the cracks.
“She’s in jail.”
––––––––
It took calling in favors I hadn’t wanted to use and the better part of the day to get Abby Mendez out on bail. It was going to take a lot more than that to undo the damage to her case and her future. Her SUV-driven rampage through the parking lot of the firm she’d helped her husband build would make everything from custody to negotiating any kind of settlement more difficult than it already was. And that was assuming some divine intervention kept the “dumbass’s slut whore secretary” from pressing charges or pursuing a civil case. I’d do my best, but I was afraid Abby Mendez was fucked.
I’d left her in the care of her sister, who promised not to let her leave the house. She wasn’t raging or crying anymore. She looked hollowed out, occasionally shaking her head and talking about the future she didn’t have anymore. That part wasn’t because of the SUV escapade. It was because she’d loved and trusted a man, built a future with him and then when he got tired of her or bored or old—whatever it was that made middle-aged men turn to younger women—he left and tried to take everything they’d built together with him. He was a living, breathing stereotype, and Abby was the one who’d pay for it. I’d never advocate for vigilante justice, especially not vehicular, but I could understand how she’d gotten pushed over the edge. The whole thing made me tired.
I pulled into the parking lot at the hotel, debating for the sixth or seventh time whether I ought to just call Ford and reschedule. It wasn’t really a question. After the day I’d had, there was no way I’d be decent company, but every time I started to dial, something in my chest tightened. I hated the idea of having to explain any of this or of sounding like a bitter, worn-out divorce lawyer. I hated the idea of not seeing Ford more.
Especially since I really didn’t know how much longer I’d have with him. The afternoon spent dealing with the aftermath of the Mendez love story reminded me the majority of marriages flamed out—some spectacularly, with disastrous consequences. I couldn’t imagine ever being brave enough or stupid enough to take that step.
It didn’t stop me from parking the car, checking in and texting Ford the room number. I had about twenty minutes to freshen my makeup and debate raiding the mini-bar before a knock on the door made the breath catch in my throat. I opened the door and stepped into Ford’s arms, inhaling the scent of him, letting his warmth melt some of the frost I’dpicked up over the course of the day.
“Everything okay, cher?” He tipped my face up to meet his gaze, concern clear in his expression.
“Better now.” I didn’t want to talk about work or my doubts or anything. I just wanted to lose myself for a time in Ford’s arms. It was denial in its purest form.
“You can tell me if something’s bothering you. I want to help.”
“I know.” I did, which in and of itself was a new thing for me. “It’s just work stuff. Nothing three or four orgasms won’t fix.”
He pulled me tight against his chest, cuddling me to him. “I’m more than happy to help, if that’s what you want, but I’m happy to listen if you need to talk.”
He murmured the words with his lips pressed to my hair, and the tenderness of the gesture almost did me in—almost made me want to tell him everything. To have him listen and then find a way to convince me it didn’t have to be like that. People who loved each other didn’t have to give up who they were or tear each other apart. But no matter what he said, I’d never believe him. That was the real problem. The hurdle I couldn’t get over.
“It’s exactly what I need, but there’s no reason for you to do all the work.” I stretched up to press a quick kiss to his lips before dropping to my knees in front of him, racing for familiar territory.
––––––––
I SHOULDN’T MIND Charlotte using sex as a distraction from whatever was bothering her. I didn’t on principle. There was nothing wrong with a good physical diversion. I’d just kind of hoped we’d gotten to theshare our feelingsplace, that she’d feel comfortable talking to me. Her hands went to my belt, making quick work of the buckle and zipper of my trousers. She slid her hand inside, grinning up at me as she wrapped her fingers around my cock, but it wasn’t the smile she usually gave me.
I wouldn’t push her to talk, but in that moment, I didn’t want her on her knees either.Not if she was going to use my cock to hide from me. How fucked up did that make me?
I cupped her cheek, letting my thumb run over her mouth with enough pressure to make her part her lips. Her tongue circled the pad of my thumb, and my traitorous cock throbbed in response. I slid my other hand into her hair, palming the back of her head before tightening my grip enough to make her gasp. I pushed my thumb into her mouth and groaned when she scraped the length with her teeth. Her eyes widened and this time when she smiled, it was a wicked grin. One I knew meant she was here with me again.
God, this woman challenged me every step of the way. I fucking loved it.I loved her. Unexpected thought but not unwelcome. And not anything I intended to share in that moment.
Keeping my hand anchored in her hair and my gaze fixed on hers, I watched as she took my length into her mouth. She didn’t stop until I felt the back of her throat squeeze around the head. She blinked, and I could see her eyes start to fill.Fuck me.She was going to wear herself out and use my cock to do it.
“You feel so fucking good, cher. So fucking good.”
She kept her gaze fixed on mine as she took me to the back of her throat again, gagging slightly before pulling back to wrap her lips around the crown. Her tongue swirled around the tip in a way that made me fight the urge to thrust into her sweet mouth. Her hand gripping my ass made it impossible not to. She pulled me tight against her, reaching for the hand I still had in her hair, urging me to fuck her mouth.
