“He is ten miles away. I visited hockey camp several times last week and will go this week to help out. He really wants this.” Ford remains calm and collected.
I shake my head. “I can’t believe this. How the hell is this supposed to be family time if Connor isn’t even here?”
Ford says nothing, and instead crosses his arms and stares at the ground before he peers up at me with his smirk never fading. “Connor not being here is kind of the point.”
“For what?” My voice cracks.
“Come on.” Ford begins to walk toward the dock, and I trail behind, marching in pure rage, demanding answers.
“Calm down, Elle, we can use the next few days to talk and come up with a new schedule.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m not staying here alone with you!”
I continue to follow him in tow as he grabs the rope from the dock post. “I think you are. Margo is expecting us tomorrow.”
“You had this planned, didn’t you? You could have called me, but you waited until I was here to tell me this change of plan.” He is so unbelievable.
“Relax. You can still study for the Bar, enjoy the lake, wear that bikini you probably packed or no bikini at all, and at the end of the week, we can pick up Connor.” Ford is completely satisfied with this situation as he calmly brings the rope to the rowboat.
My eyes dance between the boat and his hand holding the rope. “So now I’m going to be here for two weeks?” This week and another week with Connor.
“Oh, so you are staying then?” His smug look causes movement below my navel.
This is very bad.
Everything about this situation is a red flag. Ford and I have never been alone together overnight without Connor around. We always have safety blocks between us—our son, hockey games, and parent meetings. It’s never been Ford and me alone in a gorgeous lake house, let alone the lake where we created a child.
I comb my hands through my hair and pull slightly as I pace a few steps back and forth, completely ready to scream.
“Who the hell does this? This is crazy.”
He ignores me. “Are you joining me?” Ford holds up the rope in the air, and all he has to do is throw the rope in the boat and row off.
“Is this a joke?”
“No. Although I do hope you put sunblock on, it’s a warm one out here.” It’s like he is oblivious to my rage.
Fuck me, he isn’t flinching, he is completely in his winning mindset. I should march right back to my car and leave, but he’s right. Margo is expecting us tomorrow, and I don’t want to let her down, especially if she asked for me.
My heart races, and I debate what to say or do. My feet shuffle a step forward then back, but ultimately, an inner power beyond my train of thought makes me move to the rowboat.
Call it curiosity, but I’m too seething to drive anywhere anyhow, so I let my hand land in his warm offered palm to help me into the boat.
The moment I sit on the seat, I know this must be the shock kicking in for being tricked. No ounce of my normal intelligence would agree to this.
When Ford steps into the boat, causing it to wobble on the water, I only watch as he sits down, slides his sunglasses on, and his muscled arms flex as he begins to row.
Do. Not. Stare. At his biceps. Just don’t do it, Brielle.
I rip my eyes away from facing him and see water around us. How did I manage to get in a boat with him? It’s like a curse was cast on me.
“Happy you decided to take a roll on my boat.” He fails at suppressing his smile.
I fold my arms over my chest and sulk, refusing to speak.
“This is going to be a quiet ride if you aren’t going to talk. But that’s okay, I need you to listen anyway.” He continues to row.
“I never get angry at you, but I might right now,” I declare.
