“Well, usually with Cassie. She has a full-size bed,” I answer with a shrug.
Another one of those panty-melting grins spreads across his handsome face. “Well, if you’re used to sleeping with someone in that bed, who am I to argue with that.”
That comment earns him an eye roll.
“Right, since we’re not to that point in our relationship yet, we’ll just have to go with my original idea. You take the bed and I’ll take the couch.”
First off, I ignore the way my heart kicked up a few beats by the use of the word relationship and focus on the facts. “You’re way too tall for that couch, Ford. You’ll be uncomfortable and miserable all night.”
“I’ve slept in worse places,” he mumbles softly, and something tells me he’s not exaggerating. Ford sighs and steps forward, just touching the edge of my personal space. “Listen, Shayne, I won’t be able to sleep upstairs in that bed knowing you’re down here on the couch. Please. Just do this for me, okay? Besides, if I don’t get a good night’s sleep because I’m fretting about you down here, then I’m liable to hurt myself tomorrow milking a cow or something. I don’t want to disappoint your uncle tomorrow with less-than-stellar cow milking skills.”
I snicker, only because he’s being completely ridiculous, and it’s a little cute. Okay, really cute. “Fine, but when you wake up and need a chiropractor because of that couch, I don’t want to hear one peep out of you.”
He awards me the biggest grin like he just won the ultimate prize. “Come on, let me grab a few things from the room.”
I follow him up to Cassie’s childhood room and giggle as we step across the threshold. “What?” he asks.
“I’m just sorry I’m going to miss seeing you snuggled up under that pink and blue quilt,” I tease.
Ford takes in the room. The yellow walls, the boy band posters, and the pink draped over everything. “Yeah, your cousin got a big chuckle when he brought me up here.” And then his eyes darken just a little under the low lighting. “You know, if you’re worried about not seeing me in that bed, the offer still stands to share.”
I chuckle but shake my head. “You’re impossible.”
“Impossibly gorgeous, maybe? Sexy?”
“Arrogant?”
He snorts. “That too.”
I watch as he heads to a duffle bag sitting on the floor. Ford digs in and pulls a folded T-shirt and pair of shorts out. “Here.” He hands them to me. When I give him a questioning look, he adds, “So you have something to sleep in.”
“Oh, I can just see what Cassie left here. If there are no pajamas, I can just sleep in my jeans and shirt. It’s no problem.”
He’s not having it. “No way. That sounds uncomfortable as hell. Here,” he insists, shoving the change of clothes into my hands.
“Fine.”
He returns to his bag and grabs a small shaving bag, another shirt, and shorts. “You take the bathroom first.”
I slip down the hallway, thankful Chad is done by the time I get there. “You all set?” he asks when I meet my cousin.
“Yeah, Ford let me borrow some clothes to sleep in,” I state, holding up the items in my hand like a loser.
He gives me a big smirk. “Oh, I bet he did. I’m surprised he didn’t volunteer to help you change into them… or out of ’em.”
“Shut it,” I mumble, stepping around him and flipping on the light switch.
“Hey, Shay?” When I turn around, he continues. “For what it’s worth, Ford’s a really good guy. Had some shit luck with women in the past—or one in particular—but he’s a damn good guy. I’d trust him with my life. And yours.”
“Why did you tell me that?” I ask, my throat suddenly Sahara-dry.
He shrugs. “Just thought you’d want to hear it from someone who spends hours upon hours with the guy in not-so-favorable circumstances.”
I nod and close the door, not wanting to think too much about his statement. Yet, as I change into the too-big sleep shorts and the army T-shirt that smells like his now-familiar musk and sandalwood soap, I can’t stop thinking about what he said. I also can’t help but wonder what he meant by shit luck with a woman from his past. Ex-girlfriend, most likely.
I’m sure Ford is a great guy, but he’s only here a week. The last thing I need to do is let myself get caught up in something that’s only meant to be temporary. Yet, as I bring the soft material of the shirt to my nose and inhale, I can’t help the sliver of anticipation and excitement that sneaks in like a thief in the night.
Maybe if the circumstances were different, I’d be more at liberty to explore this weird chemistry, the wild spark I feel when he’s near. Unfortunately, that’s not in the deck of cards for us. He’s only here a week. No more. So it makes no sense getting caught up in something that has no future.