Page 37 of Every Little Kiss
“Independent doesn’t mean happy,” Ford said.
“So, then, what’s your plan?” Harris asked. “You make friends with the kid, flirt with his mom a little and make her feel special—”
“What’s wrong with making her feel special?” Ford argued, his shoulders tensing. “Everyone wants to feel special, and there’s nothing wrong with flirting.”
“She’s not just anyone, and you’re going back to Reno in a few weeks,” Harris pointed out, and Ford felt his hands tighten. “Then what? The next birthday or holiday rolls around, you send another unsigned gift?”
Ford dropped his head in his hands again, because no matter how much he wanted to deny the scenario, he couldn’t. Past actions—and a ton of desperation—had him asking, “What do you suggest?”
“Have you considered telling her the truth?”
Ford looked up through his brows. “That I made her husband a promise that turned me into her mystery benefactor?”
“I was thinking more of anI’m the one who rescued your son, and your husband loved you. But coming clean is always a good thing when it involves a beautiful woman.”
“I don’t want her to relive his death.”And hate me.
“But it’s okay that you do?” Harris asked. “Because that’s selfish thinking, man. The longer you hold on to this, the longer your team goes without its leader. Sam didn’t make it, but Paxton did. What other kid is going to need you when you’re riding a desk and handling missing senior calls?”
Ford would find a new career before it came to that.
Harris let out a tired breath. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but what if you got to know her a little? Let her get to know you. She can see you’re a skilled officer, and you can see that she’s doing fine. Then you can walk into that certification clearheaded and guilt-free.”
“Are you saying I’m not fired?” Ford asked, wondering when another few weeks of settling dog disputes had become important.
“Not yet,” Harris said with a smile. “As long as you promise not to mess with the single-mom code.”
“I’m not into single moms or taking advantage of vulnerable women.” Although Liv hadn’t looked like a mom the other night in her sundress and bare feet.
“You think Liv is the vulnerable one here?” Harris let out a big, obvious laugh and clapped him on the shoulder. “Man, good luck with that.”
Two hours later, Ford was still trying to figure out what Harris had meant by his comment. Not that he was going to ask the prick, since Harris had Ford reviewing a pile of volunteer forms for the new K-9 trailing team.
Harrison wanted a solid team of ten identified by the time Ford left, but after flipping through the applicants, he knew he’d be lucky to find one person who had the time to dedicate to becoming a solid team member. It wasn’t qualified applicants he was lacking. There were a dozen or more who were fit outdoor enthusiasts—and working sixty-hour-a-week careers. What he needed were people who had the time to train their dogs and the flexibility to drop everything at a moment’s notice for a call-out.
He was just finishing up a call to Ms.Pines, who was asking if he’d received the flowers she’d sent for helping rescue Bubbles, when there was a knock at the door.
Ford looked at the horseshoe of white lilies in the corner of the room, then at Bullseye, who was eyeing the cluster ofTHANKYOUhelium balloons that Ms.Moberly had sent more than an hour after the flowers arrived.
Another knock sounded.
Needing a vacation from his vacation, Ford said, “Come in.”
The door opened, and in walked the prettiest bouquet he’d ever seen. Liv looking fresh-faced in a yellow sundress with tiny little white flowers on it and even tinier straps. In fact, the whole thing seemed to be held up by this belt that was thin enough to snap with a single tug, and it was fastened right under her morning glories.
Holy hell,her morning glories—something Ford was doing his best not to notice, but when they were placed on display the way they were, it made not looking impossible. So he gave himself one glance, a split second to take it all in, in one of those forget-what-you-saw kind of situations that made his head spin.
And okay, maybe it was two seconds, but Ford was a morning-glory aficionado—and Liv deserved a blue ribbon.
“Nurse Cupcake,” he said, standing, uncertainty weighing heavily.
Bullseye let out a joyous bark and raced over to give her a big doggy welcome to the office, which included running around her legs and getting hair all over her dress. Not that she seemed to mind.
“Hey, Bullseye,” she said, giving him a big scratch that had the dog’s eyes rolling back into his head. One last belly rub—lucky dog—and Liv straightened. Her expression was as uncertain as Ford’s heartbeat. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Just being the department receptionist.”
She smiled, small, but it gave him hope. “I came to ask some questions about permits, and I saw you in your office and decided to see if you had a minute.” She looked around the office, her lips curving when she saw the balloons. “But you look busy. Was there a funeral I didn’t know about, or did I miss your birthday?”
