My mouth opens but only a rambled sound escapes me. I feel Ford’s presence behind me, and he rests his hands on my shoulders to send comfort through my blood.
“Connor means he is thrilled. If he’s trying to make his mom freak out for fun, then he knows he needs to stop.” Ford is speaking more to our son than me. “He saw us last night and didn’t let me know untilafterour conversation,” he grits out to me.
“Oh. You saw your dad and I…”
“Kissing. It’s kind of gross but kind of sweet. Can we not make a big deal about it?” Connor pleads as he opens God knows what sports drink he just grabbed from the fridge that is fluorescent blue.
I pretend to zip my lips. “Not a word from me.”
Ford clears his throat, and there is an odd tension in the room until Connor walks around the counter and comes to give me a hug. My ten-year-old is willingly giving me a hug, and I’m not going to waste a second questioning this. I bear-hug the heck out of him.
“Dad can really make you happy now.”
I look down at my son who has a twinkle in his eye and a soft smile. I brush his hair back with my hand and cradle his head. “He can.”
“I will,” Ford corrects me.
“Is this all happening too fast?” I ask our son.
He shakes his head. “It makes life a hell of a lot easier.”
“Language,” Ford warns him, and I’m grateful that he is here to take the authoritative tone because I don’t always want to be the rule mom.
“Sorry.”
“I’m happy you’re happy,” I say.
He nods. “We brought you a Turtle sundae.”
I smile brightly. “Is that what you placed in the freezer?”
“Yeah.”
“The key to my heart,” I reply.
Connor scoffs a sound and backs away. “Don’t get sappy on us now.”
“My mistake,” I one-tone.
“I’m going to play a game now, Dad said I could before dinner.”
“Thirty minutes, then I want you outside,” Ford reminds him, but Connor is already turning the corner down the hallway.
I swivel on my toes to face the man who made this transition somewhat easy for me.
“What did you say?” I’m far too curious and loop my arms around Ford’s neck.
He plays it cool. “Not much. Sometimes the obvious doesn’t need to be explained.”
Ford kisses my cheek, leaving me there to reflect on his comment.
* * *
A little while later,I’m walking barefoot out onto the patio where Ford is working the grill. I place my ridiculous bowl of chopped salad on the table. I can’t help myself, I drink in the view of Ford. Something about late-afternoon sun hits him just right. He’s extra sexy as he flips a burger, occasionally drinking from his beer. He has no clue that I’m admiring him, feeling lucky that he is someone that I get to call mine.
Music plays on the Bluetooth, “My Sweet Baby” by Thieving Birds. I like this song.
Ford glances up, catching me in my near-drooling state. He grins, sets the grill tongs down, and walks around the BBQ to me.
