by Paige Rion
Andi clung to his words like a lifeline, her chance to put some distance between them. “You didn’t return any of my calls.”
“I know. I think I wanted you to assume the worst.”
“I thought maybe you went back to Colombus, that you didn’t get the grant, or that you were around but you just didn’t care and you were done trying.”
He nodded, his throat moving as he swallowed. “I’m sorry I let you think those things, but I thought that maybe if I gave you some time, some space … I thought you would sort out any feelings you might have for him.”
The reference to Ford stabbed her through the chest, making it harder to breath.
Peter gripped her hands tighter. “I thought you’d either go to him or be done once and for all and realize you wanted me.”
Andi closed her eyes and shook her head. “But I told you. This whole time I’ve been telling you. All I wanted was us.”
“I didn’t believe it. I’m sorry, but every time I turned around, I had something telling me otherwise. But what I realized in this last week away was that I couldn’t wait any longer. I couldn’t give you the time you needed. I don’t know. Maybe I’m the one who’s selfish because I couldn’t bear another day without you. So I figured I had no choice but to believe you. And I just couldn’t stand the thought of losing you to him.”
The notion that this was some kind of game with him, Andi being the grand prize, sat in the pit of her stomach like a rotten seed. Was it losing her that bothered him so much? Or was it the thought of losing her to him?
Before she could respond, Peter let go of her hands and bent down on one knee again. The room seemed to tilt at an odd angle and Andi’s head spun. She knew what he was about to do, and she wanted to stop him. But the room wouldn’t stop spinning, and she swayed on her feet, wishing she had something to hold onto. When he spoke, his voice sounded far away, and for a second, she wondered if this was just a dream.
“I realized that maybe I need to up the stakes, make you realize how serious I am about you. Andi Ann Callaway, this week without you was hell. I never want to go a day, let alone a week, without you by my side…”
Stupidly, all she could think as he spoke was, Does Ford know my middle name? She heard nothing else; his words melted into the background like white noise.
“I want you to be the first thing I wake to in the morning, and the last thing I see before I go to sleep. I want you to have my babies and spend every day loving you.”
Her arms began to shake. How could she tell him no? How could she break his heart?
“I got the grant.” His voice took on an excited tone. “My experiment will be groundbreaking. Providing for you has never been a question for me, but Andi, the life I will be able to give you now will be amazing. I need you, and I want you by my side. Will you marry me?”
She stilled. Her shaking dissipated, and the room stopped spinning. Even now, in the middle of his proposal, all he could focus on was his work. Himself. He’d accused her of being selfish and obsessed with her dream, and Andi had almost let herself believe she was. But there was a difference between being ambitious, having a dream, and being selfish. Peter wanted Andi by his side as long as her dreams weren’t an inconvenience to him. He wanted her because she enhanced his life. Not because he truly couldn’t live without her.
“Andi?” Peter stared up at her, his forehead wrinkling and his eyes darkening as the seconds passed with no response.
Her mouth tightened into a firm line, and she shook her head. “No.” She glanced away, unable to look at him.
He said nothing, so she forced her gaze to his and wrapped her hands around the ones cradling the open box with the engagement ring. “Peter…” For a split second, the worry left his brow and he smiled, before he took in Andi’s somber expression. “I can’t marry you.”
She watched the blow of her words hit him. He glanced away from her to the floor, his mouth opening. After a moment, he stood back up, letting his hands fall to his side. “This is about him, isn’t it?” The muscles in his jaw ticked, and his breathing grew louder, harsher.
“No.” She shook her head, because even though she couldn’t deny her feelings for Ford, he wasn’t the reason she couldn’t marry Peter. The fact was, they had never been truly in love. It had taken her feelings for Ford to realize that. “Peter, you don’t love me.”
He ran a hand through his hair and stood. “Is that so?”
Anger was rolling off him in waves, but she didn’t care. “Not once in that little speech of yours just now did you mention my happiness. What you would do for me. That you wanted to make me happy. It was all about you! Everything is always about you. You made me believe the whole time that it was me being selfish, but it wasn’t. And right now, my career is just taking off. I’m not giving that up. I shouldn’t have to. And I want someone who will be there for me all the way. Ford’s agent agreed to represent me. That’s huge—”
“Him. Again. He’s everywhere, his hand in everything. I’m guessing he put you up in this suite, too.” He waved around the room. “How am I supposed to compete with this? How can I compete with a man who has everything you want, who can make your dreams come true with a simple phone call?”
His insinuation that the only thing that had gotten her an agent was Ford caused something to burst inside of her at his words. “Excuse me, but she read and loved my book! She didn’t offer representation just because Ford referred me. He’s not God. You think writing genre fiction, particularly romance, is a waste of time, but not everyone agrees with you.”
“See?” Peter laughed, a bitter sound. “He read it and loved it, so I’m the bad guy just because I think romance is fluff. Just because we disagree. Again, I can’t compete with him. Can I?” His eyes searched hers, as if looking for one last reprieve, something that might tell him he was wrong, but Andi kept her expression neutral. All she wanted now was for him to go. She spoke between clenched teeth. “It’s not about him. It’s about you. About us.”
“So that’s it? We’re over?” he asked, his voice thick. He ran his hands through his hair, his eyes wide, disbelieving. “What am I gonna do? What do I do without you?”
Moisture pooled in her eyes at his words and the desperation in his tone, but she said nothing, knowing he didn’t really love her and that in time, he’d see that.
He glanced at her one last time, shook his head, and left.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Andi was sitting on the couch with her head in her hands when Ford entered the room. The sound of the door closing forced her attention to him. He moved toward her slowly, his hands shoved in his pockets, his gaze traveling to the floor.
“Everything okay?”
Andi couldn’t speak. Not because she was grieving the end of her relationship with Peter, but because she was waiting for a sadness that wouldn’t come. The revelation that she should miss him but didn’t told her all she needed to know. Their relationship had been all but over a long time ago.
Ford moved to her and put his arms around her, reading her silence as despair.
“He proposed,” she murmured into his chest, feeling him stiffen beneath her cheek. “I said no.”
She clung to him tighter, hearing the soft release of his breath and the tension in his body disappear. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, pressing his lips into her hair.
She shook her head, saying nothing for a moment, letting her mind drift to a quiet place. A place devoid of proposals, boyfriends, and breakups. A place where it was only her and Ford. No one else.
She listened to the quiet whoosh of his breath, felt the subtle rise and fall against her chest. Something fluttered in her stomach. She breathed in the scent of him, of male skin and soap, and her body came alive at the awareness of how close Ford was holding her, the strength in his arms, the warmth of his chest…
Andi glanced up at him from under her lashes. A raw need pooled in the pit of her stomach and spread through her chest and limb
s until every nerve awakened. His gaze held hers, his barely restrained desire glittering in his eyes.
She leaned up on her toes and brushed her lips against his, savoring the warmth of his mouth. She wanted to feel Ford’s hands on her, wanted to discover what he felt for her through his touch. She moaned under his mouth and deepened the kiss, trailing her hands from his face to the front of his shirt, which she unbuttoned slowly, wanting to savor every second.
Leaning back, he brushed his knuckles over her cheek, making her heart pump harder in her chest.
“I need you, Ford,” she whispered, and with those words came a whiplash of understanding. Never before had she wanted someone like this, and she realized in that moment, no matter how seemingly impossible, that she loved him. She loved him in a way she had never loved Peter—for all his mistakes, for his dark past, for all his scars, his triumph, his hope and his success. And the realization came with another. She had been intimate with Peter on many occasions, but never before had she actually made love.
“Make love to me. Please?” The words came out in a rush, and for a moment, the fear that Ford did not feel the same seized her, constricting her chest.
“Yes.” The single word bloomed in her chest, a budding rose. He bent down, and, lifting her off her feet, took her in his arms and carried her to the bed.
He laid her down with ease and cupped his hand under her chin, gazing into her eyes. “I knew I loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you in my office, with your nerves and your opinions—” he chuckled “—and your passion. Your drive. I love you for all you hope to accomplish. I love this feeling I get inside every time I’m around you, the one that feels like someone’s put a hook in my heart and tethered it to yours. I love you. Plain and simple. Tonight, we forget everything else.”
His lips crushed over hers. In seconds, a fever overtook Andi’s body, and she lost all control. She kissed him with abandon. Her pent-up fears, every apprehension and struggle over the last month slipped away. Her hands moved to his hair, grasping it between her fingers.
One moment, Andi was lying on her back, Ford kissing her. The next, she lay naked, her bare skin soft against his. Ford knelt next to her, wearing nothing but his boxers, his breathing ragged. The fading sun outside filtered through the windows, illuminating the side of his face in an orangey glow and casting the rest in shadows, highlighting the angles of his jaw. Andi reached up and ran her hand across the smooth skin, pulling him toward her.
“I want you, every part of you.” Her voice was soft and sultry, one she hardly recognized.
Exhaling, Ford elicited a sound that was part desperation, part hunger. Andi moved her hands over the taut muscles in his chest as he removed his boxers. His kisses changed, becoming more frantic, harsher and deeper, until every sense was consumed by him. She kissed him back with an uncaged fervor, her body responding in a way it never had before.
His mouth moved to her neck, her breasts, her stomach, until she was nothing but a tattered collection of nerves. Her breathing hitched and shattered as sensation took hold. She arched her body in frustration, needing him as she had never needed anyone. And before she could say it, Ford’s mouth returned to hers, brushing over her lips before he deepened the kiss and entered her with gentleness contrary to her feverish need. As he moved, transforming her into an aching knot of pleasure, she lifted her hips, matching his rhythm with one of her own. And she wondered as her world grew hazy and then shattered into a million pieces if she might just drown in him.
#
Andi took the newspaper off the room service cart and opened it with a smile. From the moment she’d awakened in Ford’s arms, she couldn’t stop grinning, noting her stiff back and sore muscles with satisfaction.
She took a sip of her coffee, her mouth curling when she heard the shower shut off. Maybe when Ford came out…
She shook her head and opened the newspaper, scanning the headlines on the front page and the entire first section. Nothing caught her eye. Then again, she wasn’t sure that even a worldwide disaster would hold her attention. Not when Ford was naked in the next room.
Flipping to the next section, Andi paused. She blinked at the photo in front of her as if she might be seeing things. But no matter how many times she opened and closed her eyes, the photo remained. A headshot of her—the one from her college ID—and a photo of Ford stared back at her. The headline read, ‘Local author Ford Delaney at it again: Breaks up author hopeful’s engagement!’
Andi’s mouth went dry. A lump formed in her throat. She tried to swallow but couldn’t. Glancing down at the article, which seemed to cover the entire page, she noticed another picture at the bottom. Peter’s face stared back at her, the unmistakable gleam of anger in his eyes.
Her mind reeled. “Peter must have talked to them,” she whispered.
She skimmed the article but little sunk in—only enough to confirm that Peter had told the press about his relationship with Andi and implied Ford was the sole reason for their breakup. He’d made it seem as though they had already been engaged and Ford was a home wrecker.
“Oh no.” Andi pressed a hand to her head. “Peter, what have you done?” she whispered, knowing this would only add to the media frenzy with Ford.
A trickle of fear crawled down Andi’s spine. What if this changed things between her and Ford?
Her mind swirled, a whirlpool of questions and doubts. When Ford walked into the room, lazily strolling toward her, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, his hair still messy and damp, she wondered what she would tell him.
His smile radiated warmth, and Andi’s stomach plunged to her feet as she laid the newspaper on the table, the article facing forward so he could see it. He leaned in to give her a kiss, but the photos caught his eye and his gaze fell to the paper. His smile faded. The lines by his eyes creased with concentration.
“Son-of-a-bitch,” he hissed. He snatched the paper off the table.
Andi opened and closed her mouth while he read the article out loud, his voice getting louder with each word. She fought the urge to put her hands over her ears, not wanting to hear it, yet feeling an odd sense of protectiveness toward Peter in the face of Ford’s anger.
“He was hurt,” she murmured, yet her words sounded weak, even to her.
“Right.” Ford ran a hand down his face and snorted. “I’ll be right back.”
He left for a moment, grabbing his phone off the coffee table as he went. Andi moved to the wall that separated their room from the hallway outside and put her ear up to it, but all she could hear was the soft muffle of his voice. When he returned minutes later, he hurried around the room, gathering Andi’s things and shoving them in her suitcase.
Her arms and back prickled as something clutched at her heart. “What are you doing?”
“I got you a flight out this morning. If you leave in the next five minutes, you’ll make it. The hotel will have a driver waiting outside.”
No, no, no. “What? Wait.”
Ford stopped his packing and glared at her. “Do you have any idea what this could mean? They’ve already gotten to the hotel staff. They know you stayed here in my suite, and they even spoke with the bartender from yesterday. Based off the warning Candy gave me, courtesy of the editors at People, from the sounds of it, they got an earful.”
Andi’s mouth formed a circle as understanding hit. “Oh.” The bartender must’ve told them about their passionate display at the bar.
“Yeah.” Ford’s expression softened. “Did you read the article or listen to the bits that I read?”
“Some.”
“They know you’re from Callaway Cove, and they know I’m residing there for the summer. Tonight, there will be droves of press at my award ceremony. They know I will be in attendance, which means they’ll be expecting to corner both of us there, get pictures of us together. They won’t be waiting for us in Callaway Cove until we return to town on Wednesday. Our best bet to keep you away from their cameras and questions, to keep you out of
the spotlight as much as possible, is to sneak you out of here and have you home by tonight.”
He wanted to protect her, not himself. Yet, Andi could feel herself unraveling, despite herself. “What about you?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I’ll go late tonight or in the morning. For now, I won’t comment when they approach me.”
He’s still coming back. A weight inside her lifted. She was wrong. Everything would be okay. Yet she had to ask, “What about us?”
Ford moved across the room and took her face between his hands. “We’ll figure this out.” His breath smelt of mint toothpaste. Andi squeezed her eyes shut. “I won’t let this affect you. We’ll clear it up somehow,” he said.
“Ford, I don’t care about me.”
Something she didn’t recognize flickered in his eyes, then disappeared just as quickly. “I know, but I do. I care enough for the both of us. And this isn’t how I wanted the press to find out about us.”
Andi frowned. What did that mean? But before she could ask, Ford turned back to her suitcase, zipped it up and left the room without further warning.
Two hours later, Andi sat on a plane headed straight for Cleveland, a stranger to her left. The flight attendant paid extra attention to her, lending her the impression Ford must have informed them of her fear of flying. But Andi didn’t feel like having drinks. She wasn’t afraid. Well, for the most part. The takeoff was a bit rough, but her concern for Ford managed to trump her fear of anything.
When she landed late that afternoon, no press awaited her arrival, just as Ford had predicted. A driver waited for her, holding a sign marked with her name. By the time she arrived home, she was a wreck, convinced Ford would disappear and never return to Callaway Cove. She moped around the house, her excitement at signing with an agent dulled, to the complete puzzlement of her parents, who wanted nothing more than to celebrate. She explained to her mother what had gone on, and she was shocked, but didn’t quite understand the scope of Ford’s celebrity status and how this would affect him, so her sympathy and advice was of little comfort to Andi.
