I don’t know what I did to have this woman come into my life, but I will forever be thankful to the universe, the stars, and the moon. I don’t know how our paths were destined to cross. The stars must have aligned at the right time. Whatever the reason she was brought into my life, I will forever be indebted.
Chapter 18
Shayne
I’m not nervous.
Surprisingly.
Two weeks ago, if you had told me I would be going to a hotel with someone I knew only a short time, I would have called for a mental evaluation. No way. Instead of feeling any uncertainty, I’m excited. More than excited, actually. I’m elated.
Ready.
Are things moving too fast for Ford and me?
Quite possibly.
The last time I jumped into the deep end of a relationship, it ended with a whole heap of heartache. Worse, it wasn’t just mine. I hurt an innocent woman along the way. Though I have to admit, I feel a little less guilty now that I’ve confessed everything to Ford. He was so understanding and kept insisting I wasn’t to blame. Deep down, I always knew it was Rodney’s fault and not so much mine, but try telling yourself that when everywhere you go, they look at you like a homewrecker.
Like a slut.
I had heard the whispers. Hell, sometimes they didn’t even whisper. Especially when they got a few drinks in their system, like what happened the other evening. After I threw that drink in her face, I felt a rush of guilt. I had stooped to their level. I was angry and ashamed, and then I had talked to Ford.
He helped take the guilt.
Sure, I still feel it, but the load feels a little less.
Like he’s carrying it with me.
His support means more to me than anything in this world. He doesn’t see me the way everyone else does. He sees past my mistakes, past the hurt I’ve been harboring and wearing like a coat, and he’s helping me heal.
Something I never thought I’d be able to do.
Ford reaches over and links our fingers together as he drives into town. I’m eager to be alone with him and not in his childhood bedroom where his parents are a room away. Not in my dinky apartment above the bar with the smell of beer and music floating up the stairwell. We’ll be in our own space, away from everyone.
Away from the world.
“You okay over there? You’re awfully quiet,” he says, breaking the silence.
I give him a smile. “I’m perfect.”
“You’re not changing your mind, are you? We can go back to my parents’ place if you’d be more comfortable.”
He barely has the words out when I declare, “No. No way. I want to go. I want this.”
He grins, and the gesture lights up his entire face. Ford Gregory is the most breathtaking man I’ve ever seen. Better than Ryan Reynolds. Better than Chris Hemsworth. Better than Dwayne Johnson. All of whom are almost twice my age, but I don’t care. That generation produced some hot as hell men.
But Ford? He’s like having Ryan and Chris and Dwayne all rolled into one.
As we pull into town, I become very aware of the way he drags his thumb over the palm of my hand. It tickles a little, but with each stroke, it’s like a direct line to the apex of my legs. I’m getting more turned on, wetter with each passing second. By the time we pull into the parking lot of a hotel in Cooper, I’m practically rocking in my seat, trying to find some relief from the desire pooled at my core.
Ford parks near the back of the lot, away from the main entrance, and shuts off his truck. “Ready?”
I practically sprint from my seat, eager to get inside. “Yes.”
“Wait there. I’m not missing the chance to help you down,” he instructs, chuckling at my enthusiasm.
Before I know it, he’s at my side, placing big warm hands at my waist and hoisting me out of his truck. The second my feet hit concrete, he presses his lips to mine in a searing kiss. One that brands me as his. I welcome the burn.
He pulls away before I’m ready, which is probably a good thing. I’m sure the hotel has cameras in the parking lot. The last thing we need is to put on a show for anyone who happens to glance at the screen. “Let’s go,” he says, grabbing our two bags and locking his truck. With our fingers entwined once more, he adds, “I need to get you alone and naked.”
A shiver slides through my body.
It only takes a few minutes to check-in at the front desk, and before I know it, we’re off to the elevator. Ford carries both bags, refusing to let me take my own, as he presses the button for the third floor. It’s a fairly small hotel, with only three floors total, a gym, and a pool and sauna area. A part of me feels a little disappointed I didn’t bring a swimsuit on this trip. The thought of seeing Ford in trunks, water glistening off his incredible eight-pack abs, is a little overwhelming.