A knock at the door cut through the haze. “Hold on, someone’s at my door.”
“Actually, I’m gonna let you go,” Shep said. “Traffic’s getting heavy.”
“All right. Drive safe.”
“Love you, Autumn.”
“Love you too, Shep.”
I felt lighter as I made sure my robe was closed and made my way to the door. That was until I opened it.
“Ryan.” I was so startled by the sight of Ryan Ford, in gym shorts, a t-shirt, and his glasses, that I nearly stumbled back.
A messenger bag was slung across his chest, and a single peony was in his hand. “Morning.”
All I could do was blink because he looked absolutely delectable. His dark hair was messy, like he had just gotten out of the shower. I could still smell soap clinging to his skin. It was woodsy and masculine.
“Uh—hi . . .”
He cracked a smile; the panty-melting kind that had my knees shaking. I wasn’t in my full, sassy form this early in the morning, and he had already shattered some of my defenses with the bouquet and breakfast. It was a one-two punch I was still stumbling from. But Ryan Ford at my door with a flower in his hand? That was the haymaker.
He had won this round.
“What are you doing here?”
“I have a confession.” He offered the peony. “When I ordered the flowers down at the shop, I stole one out of the bouquet and took it home. I had it sitting beside me while I worked this morning, and I couldn’t stop looking at it and thinking about you. Besides, eleven stems seem a little uneven. You need the full dozen. I wouldn’t want you to think you’re getting cheated.”
I chewed on my lips. “You came all the way from Queens just to give me a flower?”
Ryan shook his head. “I came all the way from Queens because I wanted to see you.”
“And what are you going to do now that you’ve delivered the flowers?" I asked as I held the peony to my chest.
Ryan pulled up the strap to his messenger bag. “I know you’re on vacation, but I was going to get some work done at the library. Even con men have to pay the bills, and that requires answering emails.”
I let out a short laugh.
“I was wondering if you wanted to come with me. I’ve never met an author who doesn't like libraries.”
I pretended to think it over, but I did have some work to catch up on, and doing it at the New York Public Library sounded like the perfect day.
“You drive a hard bargain, Ford.”
Hope lifted his eyebrows. “You’ll come?”
I turned and tucked the peony into the vase so it wouldn’t wilt. “Give me a minute to get dressed.”
He leaned on the doorframe and undressed me with his eyes. “Be my guest.”
I laughed as I walked back toward him. “I hate to break it to you, but it takes more than French fries for me to take my top off for an audience.”
That devastating smirk hooked on the corner of his mouth, dimpling his cheek. “You gonna give me the secret formula?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” And with that, I slammed the door.
THE FORD METHOD: WEEK TWO
CORE MEMORIES
