Page 72 of Every Little Kiss
Liv knew what “bad days” in their line of work could look like. Knew how hard it was to come down from the intensity and chaos of it all. Just like she knew that what Ford really needed right then was human connection.
So she tightened her arms and held on. Neither of them spoke—they didn’t need to. She just wrapped herself around him and waited until his breathing normalized and his heart rate slowed enough to match hers. Even then she closed her eyes and held tight.
When the shivers stilled and his skin had warmed some, Liv realized that the energy between them had shifted. She felt his chest fill and slowly empty with an edge of finality that made her want to hold tighter.
“You should go,” he said.
“I know.” Neither of them moved.
“Paxton is probably wondering where you are.”
“He’s watching a movie with his grandma.The Lone Ranger.” Ford tipped his head to the side so he could look at her over his shoulder. “He wears a mask and fights crime. She’s trying.”
Which made Liv happy. Sleepless nights and spiraling guilt aside, something positive had come out of their conversation. And she’d take the win.
He straightened, causing her to drop her arms. “And I’m trying to do the right thing here, Liv.”
“And why do you think being alone is the right thing?” she asked quietly.
“Because having you here like this, touching you ...” Leaning against the counter, he reached out and cupped her hip and slowly drew her toward him. He parted his legs to make room for her and—just like that—she wanted to be had.
Like this and by him.
More than anything she wanted to remember what it was like to be touched. Not just touched, but moved in a way that rerouted her emotions and left a mark. A mark that would last all summer and maybe for longer.
“It makes me forget why I’m here.”
“Maybe it’s not the forgetting that’s the problem,” she said. “What if it’s all about the remembering?”
Fire flickered in his eyes, telling her that he was remembering every detail of their kisses. “Have dinner with me, Ford.”
He looked at her hands on his pecs. “You keep saying dinner, but all I can think about is what happens after.”
“Dessert,” she said with a smile.
“Damn, I do love a good cupcake,” Ford said, and lowered his head, taking her mouth without warning. It wasn’t the gentle teasing they’d shared in the past. No, this was Ford—raw and unfiltered.
Reminding her why he was going to be so hard to give up.
Dessert doesn’t necessarily mean getting naked,Ford told himself again.
It was the same thing that had been on repeat since she’d walked into that kitchen and wrapped her arms around him. Soft and sweet, Liv, with her big heart and caring ways. The right thing to do would be pull back, clarify, and go in a new direction if necessary.
One that wouldn’t lead them into dangerous territory.
But then her hands were on the move, sliding down his chest—shy and hesitant but defiantly headed for uncharted waters and,thank you, Jesus,he was pretty sure dessert meant step four.
Then her body moved against his in this little swivel-hip move that had his eyes rolling to the back of his head, and he discovered her cupcakes were sans a bra, and knew that while dessert might not mean sex, step four sure as hell did.
And Liv was telling him she was ready for both. Please, God, tell him he wasn’t misreading the signals. Because while he knew how to read women, he didn’t know jack shit about readingthiswoman.
Normally this would be an open-and-close case, one that would start on the counter and finish with breakfast in bed. But Liv wouldn’t be here come breakfast, and Ford wasn’t even sleeping in his own bed. His bed was two hours away, in another state, and rarely slept in.
A part of him wondered how often he’d travel if he knew a woman like her was keeping his bed warm, but the other part knew better—he wasn’t that guy.
But he also refused to be that other guy with her. The one who was too busy checking to see if his earlier hypothesis about her cupcakes was correct—which a gentle slide up her back confirmed that he was—to clarify that this was an intentional turn in direction and not some spur-of-the-moment road trip.
He wasn’t ready to pull the emergency brake, but he wanted to tap them long enough to see where she was at.
