Every Little Kiss (Sequoia Lake Book 2)

by Marina Adair

  Ford knew exactly what she could do with her hands, but since that wasn’t on the menu, he sat on the coffee table—a good two feet from touching her. “What did you do when your husband cooked for you?”

  She thought about that for a moment and then took a sip of wine. “He didn’t really cook all that often. Between his patient load at the hospital and paperwork, he rarely made it home in time for dinner. And when he did, he usually had work to catch up on.”

  That surprised Ford. He’d always assumed Sam was the kind of guy who managed to do it all, and do it all well: family, patients, career. A real Dr. McDreamy meets Husband of the Year. “Balancing what we want to do and what we need to do can be hard.”

  “I know. Sam had a big heart and even bigger dreams. I loved the way he cared about everything so deeply, but over time he’d commit himself in too many directions to come through for everyone. Something had to give,” she said casually, as if it were no big deal. But the sadness in her eyes told him a different story. A story that Ford had a hard time reconciling with the one he’d conjured about a man whose undying love for his wife kept him going for twelve hours in a blizzard.

  “And you think he gave up on you?” Ford asked quietly.

  “Sam didn’t give up on anything. Ever. Especially love, and he did love me. And I loved him. So much.” She shook her head, a nostalgic smile touching her lips. “Which is why I knew he’d drive himself ragged trying to be everything to everyone, so I made sure home didn’t feel like another obligation. Which made it hard to be mad when he forgot special days or worked weekends.”

  It also made it harder for him to tell her about his connection to Sam. Something he had to do before she confided more details about the marriage. “About Sam—”

  “I blew it, didn’t I?” she asked, covering her mouth and looking horrified. “I don’t know what to say. I followed all seven signs, exactly, so I could come over here with a fresh page to add to my story, but somehow I flipped back a few chapters to my marriage.”

  “Seven signs?” Ford asked, setting down his beer.

  “Yes. Primping, touching my hair, direct eye contact—I even bought new underwear.” She flapped her hands. “There’s more, and I did them, but then Sam came up and I kept talking about him and . . .” She took a breath. “Please don’t let that sign confuse you.”

  Ford couldn’t help it—he smiled. “I love your primping. I’ve been staring at your primping all night. I want to touch your hair every time you do.” To prove it, he ran his fingers through the long, wavy strands, then lifted her chin. “And I would expect nothing less than direct from you, cupcake.”

  “I like direct,” she whispered. “I like to see what’s coming.”

  So did Ford. But right then all he could focus on was that blank page of hers. And how much he wanted to be a part of it. Be a part of her.

  “Then I’ll be direct. I’ve been confused since that first morning when you ordered me to press your spot. I’m not sure what to say, where the line is.”

  This time she smiled, and damn it was beautiful. “There are no lines—that’s the sign I meant to give.”

  “So why don’t you explain what each of the signs means so I know how to respond to each and every one of them.”

  “That’s easy. They all mean the same thing,” she said, and he knew that nothing about this was going to be easy. But walking away from her at this point would be impossible.

  “What?”

  “That I want you to kiss me.”

  “I’ve already kissed you,” he said quietly.

  “In many different places,” she said, and damn if his eyes didn’t slowly roll over her body. “This kiss would be different. It would last all the way through breakfast,” she said, as if breakfast included the two of them pretzeled around each other in tangled sheets.

  “What about Paxton?” he said.

  “He’s at his grandma’s.” She paused for an entire beat that had Ford’s lungs shutting down. “All night.”

  “All night? That’s a big step.” He swallowed, reminding himself that the right thing would be to proceed with caution. But he was tired of being cautious. He was ready to trust his gut again, and his gut was telling him that everything about this woman was right for him.

  “For both of us,” she said, and with a smile that was 100 percent trouble, she moved to the end of the chair until their knees were brushing, and then she leaned even closer. Which—hello?—brought her breasts right into his line of sight. All he had to do was look down and Can you say, Dessert before dinner? “And I’m yours all night. If you want.”

  And if that didn’t clarify things, then her taking his mouth without warning did. Liv making the first move was hot, but her delivery left no room for talk.

  That kiss packed more force than pulling the chute after free-falling from thirty thousand feet up. It was one of those hands-in-the-hair, zero-to-let’s-get-naked, new-panties-worthy kind of kisses that told Ford that Liv wasn’t looking for a walk down memory lane. She was looking to pen a little Nicholas Sparks and a little Fifty Shades action into her new chapter.

  Damn if he wasn’t ready for a fresh page in his own life. Where he got to write the ending. And if he had his way, it would last a hell of a lot longer than all night.

  “Oh, I want,” Ford moaned against Liv’s mouth, sending a kaleidoscope of tingles over her body. He kissed her like a man who knew what he wanted and would stop at nothing to get it. Always big on encouragement, Liv wrapped her arms around his neck and held tight as he kissed her like she was his dessert.

  He pulled back, resting his forehead to hers, breathing heavy. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “Check my panties,” she said, and he groaned.

  Forehead to hers still, his eyes lowered to her legs and then back up. “The new panties?”

  “The first seven signs were to tell you I wanted to be kissed, so I decided I needed a sign to tell you I wanted to do a sleepover. And since showing up with my pillow seemed pushy . . .”

  “You bought new panties,” he said in a low voice, but she saw other, deliciously big, signs that he was as excited over her panty choice as she was.

  “Red ones.”

  “God, I love red.” He placed his hands on her calves and skimmed them up to the backs of her knees.

  “I do too, but I felt like I was trying to be too bold. So I went with pink.”

  “Pink, huh?” Ford leaned in and kissed the corner of her mouth. “Pink is sweet and sexy. Just like you.”

  “The problem was, I wasn’t feeling very sweet.”

  “Right now, I’m not either, cupcake,” he said, tugging her forward to the very edge of the seat. “So what did you pick?”

  “Something that was honest and bold and left no question about what I wanted.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “Why don’t you check and tell me if I did a good job?”

  Pulling her to stand between his parted legs, Ford slid his hands up the back of her thighs, not stopping until he got to her very bare, very bold ass. And groaned. “No clarification needed.”

  His eyes were intense, and locked on hers, as he leaned up and nipped at her neck, then her shoulder, pressing a kiss right above her belly button in a move that was so gentle it stole her breath—and left no room for misunderstanding.

  Yup, they were on the same page, thank God, because for a moment there Liv was afraid he’d want to talk all night. Not that she wasn’t into talking, but tonight she wanted to feel. And Ford made her feel things she’d long given up hope on feeling.

  Running her hand in his hair, Liv held him to her as he ran kisses across her ribcage and down her belly, sending a flood of feeling pooling between her legs. His hands were like a heat-seeking missile. They were under her dress and going from question to confidence as they cupped her bottom, his callused thumbs working their way forward, lightly grazing along the edge of her inner thighs until she thought her knees were going to buckle.


  “Come here,” he whispered, guiding her onto his lap.

  Not only did she go, she cupped his face and brought his mouth to hers for a series of languid, drugging kisses that had her melting against him until the soft denim of his jeans pressed against her sensitive skin.

  Ford was the most excellent kisser. In fact, he should have been given a gold medal in the kissing department. And his fingers should be considered one of the seven wonders of the world. Soft but purposeful, patient and demanding. Sneaky as well.

  One minute they were close to her hot zone, driving her insane, and the next the top of her dress was sliding down. But she had a trick up her sleeve too—or should she say, under her dress, and she knew the second Ford found it.

  His hands stumbled, and fire lit his eyes. “The bra matches the panties.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Big step all around tonight.”

  Ford’s face softened, and a tenderness filled his eyes. “Big, small, I’m right here keeping pace.”

  Liv’s heart waved its white flag and fully surrendered. “I think I’m ready to run.”

  “Then let’s get you warmed up,” he said, and placed a hot open-mouthed kiss right on her nipple.

  Liv’s heart raced as if she were in the final stretch of a marathon. He cupped her in his hands, slowly attending to one and then the other, taking his time as if the warm-up was as important as the finish. And Ford would finish, of that she had no doubt.

  She let out a breath and shivered from head to toe, it felt so good.

  “Are you cold?” he whispered. Before she could say no, her body was in overload, and he was standing with her in his arms, then leaning down to rest her back against the lounger. Her dress hit the floor moments before his big, warm body was covering hers. “Better?”

  “Getting there,” she teased.

  “Let me show you what getting there feels like.” His gaze swept down her body in a hungry manner that brought on another wave of tremors. “And how much more fun it is with two.”

  Unable to speak, Liv watched as he kissed his way down her body, getting closer and closer to her hot zone. With agonizing slowness, he licked and nipped, his breath dancing over her skin, until every nerve ending was screaming out that he needed to get there, and get there quick.

  As he got closer, she was afraid to move, afraid to breathe—she couldn’t even form the words to tell him what spot needed his attention. Just like she couldn’t look away when he winked at her right before he ran his tongue in one long, thorough swipe straight up her center.

  “Closer?” he said against her.

  “Please, get closer,” she begged.

  “One?” He ran the pad of his thumb over her good spot, and she arched into him. Then he placed his mouth there. “Or two?”

  “Two,” she cried.

  “Just two?” His clever mouth ascended until she could hardly stand it. Bringing her right there, hovering on the edge, but not enough to send her over.

  “Both,” she amended, although it came out sounding a lot like begging. “One and two.”

  “Because two is always better than one, cupcake.” And to prove it, Ford found her perfect spot with his talented finger and pressed in the perfect way, while his mouth continued to nuzzle and tease. And her body began to coil and climb until she was racing so fast she broke through the finish line and collapsed against the lounger.

  Her heart was beating too fast to breathe, and her body was still shaking from the burst of energy when Ford stretched out over her, his own body naked and hard—everywhere.

  In one fluid motion he was covered and filling her. Without slowing down he was moving, and Liv’s body was begging to go the distance.

  “I think this is your perfect spot,” he said. “Right here.”

  Using slow withdrawals and even slower thrusts, Ford showed her. And the man sure had an amazing sense of direction, because he was able to show her over and over again until she was panting his name.

  Not just show her, guide her so she could get to the place with him, open and vulnerable. No longer afraid to run or afraid to fall. Because she knew that when she fell, he’d be right there next to her.

  He’d proved that to her a hundred different ways over the past few weeks. Small little things he did that spoke to his character.

  His kindness.

  Small little things that made taking that last step easier.

  “Ford,” she whispered, cupping his face so she could see his eyes. Wanting to see if he took the step with her.

  “I’m right here,” he said, lacing his fingers with hers and holding her hand to his chest, his other arm straining under the pressure of trying to hold back.

  A gentle breeze blew over her hot skin as the water gently lapped against the shoreline, and Ford moved—deep within her until all she felt was him. Them. Moving together toward something healing.

  The thrusts became harder and shorter, their breaths mixing in the evening air, but his gaze held her captive the whole time. Not releasing her even as her body started to tighten around him. And even when she was a moment from losing her sanity, she couldn’t look away.

  And Ford didn’t let her down. One more of those masterful thrusts and she was there. By the second, he was gritting his teeth. And with a final move that had Liv straining to hold on, Ford made good on his word.

  He took them both home.

  It was a long few seconds before Liv could open her eyes, but when she went to move, he brushed his mouth over hers in a gentle kiss that felt like home.

  “Don’t move,” he said. “I’ll be right back.” And he disappeared into the house.

  He needn’t have worried. Liv was in the same position when he returned two minutes later with a fuzzy blanket. He slid in behind her and pulled her close, then wrapped them both in the blanket. Holding her as if he’d never let go.

  And Liv allowed herself to admit that if this was what being part of a twosome felt like, she never wanted to stand alone again.

  CHAPTER 17

  Liv didn’t know how long they lay there, watching the stars and listening to each other breathe, but when she heard a ding come from inside the house, she looked up. “The pork?”

  He traced her lower lip with his finger. “Sorry, cupcake. It was already burned when I went back inside, so I ordered pizza.”

  Liv leaned up and kissed his chin. “I love pizza.”

  “Good.” He stood, not concerned that he was on his back deck in all of his glory. “I’ll go get it.”

  “You might want to get dressed before you answer the door,” she said, tossing his jeans at him—which he caught midair.

  If the man got dressed, he waited until he was back in the house to do it, gifting her with an amazing view. Liv lay back and looked up at the sky, wondering when the stars had become so bright.

  Right around the time she’d opened her eyes. And her heart.

  This wasn’t just a relationship starting to bloom. This was love. At least the beginning stages of it.

  Liv had loved before. Knew what the real thing felt like. And this thing between Ford and her had the potential to become the most real connection she’d ever had.

  She was thinking about that when she heard her phone. She glanced at the screen and saw it was Carolyn. Telling herself that her mother-in-law had absolutely no clue that she was naked, she answered. “Hey, there, how’s Paxton?”

  “He’s fine. We watched The Lone Ranger, and then he showed me his favorite Superman cartoon,” her mother-in-law said, but she didn’t sound fine.

  “Did he talk to you?”

  “No, but he did let me tuck him in. He wanted me to read him one of his comic books, and while there aren’t a whole lot of words in those things, he seemed to enjoy it.”

  Liv bit back a smile. A story with few words for a boy of few words, read by a grandma without a shortage of words. “Sounds like a fun night.”

  Carolyn paused again, so long that Liv’s stomach started to knot. Clutchin
g the blanket to her chest, she sat up and cradled the phone closer. “Is everything okay?”

  Liv heard a door open and close through the phone, then the sounds of Carolyn pacing. She was on her front porch. “Paxton brought that scrapbook of yours.”

  Her heart took a stumble. She hadn’t considered that, for Carolyn, a living memory book of her deceased son might not bring the same kind of connection it brought to Liv and Paxton. “I am so sorry. If it upset you, that wasn’t my intent. Paxton was asking about Sam’s childhood pets, and I mentioned that you knew all about his dad when he was a boy. I think he was excited to show you his picture book.”

  “It didn’t upset me,” Carolyn said, and Liv could hear the emotion thick in her voice. “It actually gave us something to talk about. Well, he didn’t talk, but he’d point to a picture and I’d tell him about it. It gave me a chance to share Sam with Paxton, and it didn’t feel like he was completely gone.” And the loving mother-in-law Liv remembered didn’t sound so far away either. “Thank you for giving me that.”

  Hugging her knees, Liv rested her cheek on top of them and fought back happy tears. “I’m so happy, for you both.”

  Liv looked out at the lake, a rippling dark mass with only the reflection of the moon visible, and opened herself up to every emotion she was feeling. Hope. Joy. Peace.

  Lots of peace.

  It washed through her, filling every empty space and swelling until her skin felt too tight to contain it all.

  “After we watched Superman, I asked him about camp. He was so excited that he showed me some handshake he made up. I guess it means I’m in the club or something.”

  Liv’s heart couldn’t get any fuller. “He showed it to you? Carolyn, that is huge.” She paused. “Why don’t you sound like that was huge?”

  “Because he also showed me a picture of the dog who he is doing it with.”

  “Bullseye?” Unable to remember if she’d seen him earlier, Liv looked behind her through the sliding glass door to see if she could find him. Paxton’s backpack wasn’t big enough to smuggle a sixty-pound dog, but Liv wouldn’t put it past her son to sneak a furry friend into his sleepover. “Please tell me he isn’t there?”