Page 33 of Butterface

Page List


Font:  

Forcing herself, because it was the last thing she wanted, Gina put a metaphorical chastity belt on, took a deep breath, and got up from the couch. “And I think that’s my cue to head up for the night.”

“You’ll miss the end if you go now.”

Oh man. It wasn’t the movie she was worried about missing. “Let me guess, he beats the bad guys and gets his wife back.”

“Plus, she punches out the dickhead reporter.”

Ten points go to the fictional cop’s wife. “Now that’s a twist I’m almost sad to miss, but I have a client meeting tomorrow morning.” And she didn’t trust herself not to try to jump him on the couch, so she concentrated on moving her feet away from him instead of her hands on him. “Good night, Ford.”

“Sweet dreams, Gina.”

If he meant frustrated dreams of a naked Ford Hartigan, then yes, she would totally be having those. Thank God her sense of self-preservation kicked into gear before that could slip past her lips, and she hustled out of the room and up the stairs, knowing she was skating on a fault line when it came to Ford.

But she couldn’t seem to stop herself from falling a little bit for him anyway.

Chapter Eight

“I’ve got news.”

Gina turned her attention away from the gorgeous pink-and-orange sky to the man standing in the open doorway that led out to the back porch, where she sat with a spiked lemonade and enjoyed the last moments of what had been a beautiful April day. Ford’s face was set into grim lines as he crossed over to her, a brown beer bottle in his hand.

“It’s about your grandpa.”

“They confirmed it was him?” It wasn’t like she hadn’t been prepping for it. She’d known he was gone and wasn’t coming back since she was a little girl—and seeing the ring had only confirmed what had been whispered about for years. Still, the news stung.

“Dr. Dev was able to make the ID.” He stopped next to where she sat, his hair sticking out every which way as if he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly since six this morning. “Can I join you?”

She nodded. “Just be careful, a few of the boards aren’t in great shape. Stick to the edge by the banisters.”

Ford walked around sat down next to her on the step, close enough that his knee touched hers. They sat in a comfortable silence, watching the too many tufts of weeds fighting for supremacy wave in the spring breeze. A squirrel darted through the yard, on the run from a pair of cardinals chirping at it from a tree in the next yard over. The tulips someone had planted eons ago had bloomed into a bright line of pink and yellow that followed the fence that could use a fresh coat of white paint.

Sitting there, Gina let out a deep breath of acceptance. Her grandpa wasn’t coming back, but the home he’d grown up in was starting to come into its own, and that would have to be her memorial to the man who’d been a criminal and, sometimes, a bad man, but a good grandpa to a little girl who knew from the start that she wasn’t like the other kids.

Ford broke the silence. “Did your brothers figure out the funeral arrangements?”

“Turns out he didn’t want any.” She took a drink from her lemonade, the pink drink the perfect mix of tart sweetness and vodka to go with the end of a very long day with a sad, if expected, coda. “He was pretty specific about it, and my grandma is adamant about adhering to his wishes.”

“Weren’t they divorced when he disappeared?”

“Separated. They didn’t divorce, they just lived separate lives. Too stubborn and too Catholic to divorce.”

“Is she taking it hard?”

She pictured her grandma, who’d FaceTimed her from bingo the other night to let her know the cards were hot. The woman was a shark. She had to have been to keep up with Big Nose Tommy Luca.

And when Gina had broken the news to her about probably finding Grandpa in the attic, her grandma had gotten a faraway look in her eyes before blinking it clear.

“I think she grieved for him decades ago, like the rest of us.”

“Still, I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” She fought the urge to lay her head on his broad shoulder as if she had the right. She didn’t usually get this comfortable around people so fast. Something about being burned too many times for that. But Ford just had this way about him that made her feel like trusting him was the right thing to do. “You know, you’re not so bad for a cop.”


Tags: Avery Flynn Billionaire Romance