by Cindi Madsen
Now her only option was a white flag, one she hoped not to have to wave, but she clenched it in her fist just in case.
“I haven’t had a girlfriend in years, and the few I’ve had…”
Violet froze, afraid to move or breathe.
“What I’m trying to say is that I don’t bring girls here. I don’t do this.” He gestured between him and her, and everything inside her began to crack. “But I want to do it with you.”
One by one, she peeled her fingers off the metaphorical white flag so she could hold on to Ford instead. She placed her palm over the center of his heart, feeling the thump, thump, thump in response.
When she glanced up through her lashes, he was peering deep into her soul, imprinting himself upon it, and she knew she’d never be the same.
And for the first time, instead of scaring her, it comforted her.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
For making me feel witty, cared for, understood, and beautiful. For showing me a different side of Uncertainty and another side of yourself. Pushing me to pick up my camera. Bringing me here.
Getting me to believe in love again.
The words lodged in her constricting throat, and she wasn’t sure which ones to choose, anyway, so she kept it simple. “For everything.”
Strong fingers wrapped around her hip, and then he rolled her so their hearts lined up and beat against each other. He splayed his fingers on her lower back as he sealed the perfect night with the perfect kiss.
Lost as she was in a sea of euphoric happiness, his words sounded far away when he said, “Get dressed. I wanna show you one last thing before we go home.”
…
Between cutting off Violet’s circulation and a possible fall off the rocky path, Ford decided to err on the side of holding her hand too tight.
Gravel skidded underneath their feet, and he made sure she was steady before stepping on the next large boulder. Finally, his feet hit a familiar flat landing. “See that alcove there?”
Violet peeked around him. “Yeah.”
“I spent countless nights there in high school. My dad would go on these binges, and that’d rile up my brothers. Or one of his new girlfriends would be around, and they’d be loudly fighting or fu—” Ford rubbed at his neck, wishing he’d cut himself off earlier. “Anyway, whenever it got to be too much, I’d head here with my pack, sleeping bag, and fishing pole.”
“For how many nights at a time?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Eh. Anywhere from two to five.”
“Your dad didn’t send the search and rescue team after you? Or was that what inspired your career path?”
Although it wasn’t exactly funny, he chuckled at the thought of Jimmy McGuire admitting he might need help of any kind. “That’d require him realizing I was missing. He did teach us wilderness survival skills, so I guess I have him to thank for that. My ability to rough it allowed me to find peace out here, even at the most contentious times.”
Violet lowered her eyebrows. “I… I don’t know what to say.” She hugged him around his middle. “It sounds rough. But I’m also glad you had those skills, and admittedly I do find your badass side super sexy. I just wish you didn’t have to run away to find peace.”
A band formed around his chest, one that contracted with each inhale and exhale. The fact of the matter was, he’d often been jealous of his friends’ parents and home life. They’d complain here and there, and he’d pretend he was glad he had so much freedom.
When in truth it was indifference.
Now he got a bit more than that—mostly whenever his dad or brothers wanted something. They jabbed at him about being the reliable McGuire, until they were the ones who relied on him.
Since he didn’t want to get into that, he focused on Violet’s other question. “As for my career, we had a drought one year, and there was a big fire.”
Ford spun Violet around in his arms so that her back met his chest and pointed across the lake. “Over in that ridge. Fall of my junior year. The fire crews worked endlessly to put it out. I thought ‘now that’s a badass job, running toward the flames instead of away from them.’ Before that, I’d been set on becoming a stuntman.” He rested his chin on the top of Violet’s head. “I talked to a few of the firefighters when they came into Martin’s Trading Post, and one of them told me I should become a paramedic, since it’d open up my options. When I looked into certification, I stewed over whether I was smart enough to learn all that medical mumbo jumbo. But you might have noticed I’m a tad competitive—”
“Just a tad?” Violet teased, and he gave her ass a light smack that only made her giggle.
“Addie needed to take anatomy as well and bet me she could get a better grade, and it was on after that.”
Violet relaxed against him, her fingers drifting across his forearm and soothing his inner turmoil about spilling so many personal details. “When did the search and rescue and dog training enter the picture?”
“Sorta stumbled into them. There was a lost hunter, and I’m familiar with the area, so I helped out. The Talladega Search and Rescue asked if I’d be interested in joining the team, and it was nice for people to want me around instead of waiting for me to leave so they could whisper about my family.”
Violet gazed up at him, adoration gleaming in her eyes. He wasn’t sure he deserved all that, but his heart swelled that she obviously did.
“The guy who trained me also trained canine units, and he was about to retire. When he asked if I wanted the job, I about gave him a heart attack with my enthusiastic yes.”
Man, he was in deep now. While the gang accused him of being the loudmouth, mostly he blew hot air and talked shit. Flavored the conversation with jokes. When it came to real talk, he’d only ever gotten this intense with Addie.
For a moment, he second-guessed taking Violet into the alcove.
But then she twisted to face him, the smile on her face turning her from gorgeous to woman-of-his-dreams material. She kissed him softly and rested her head against his chest. “I love everything about what you told me. Are you ready to concede that you’re, indeed, a good guy?”
“Don’t know that I’d go that far,” he said, and she tipped her head up enough that he could see her roll her eyes.
That cemented his decision. If nothing else, he wanted to sear this memory into his brain. That way, no matter what happened later, he could recall the night nothing existed besides him and the woman making a mess of his insides. “We’d better get on with what we came here to do—besides sex, of course.”
“Of course,” she said, her husky voice suggesting she was reliving their session underneath the big Alabama sky.
Linking his fingers with hers, he led her into the alcove.
A pile of ash from fires past sat in the pit where he’d cook any fish he’d caught.
Ford turned on his flashlight and ran the beam over the walls. “The outer rocks have all those different names and colors and flags painted, and I was thinking…” He dug through his bag until he came up with the spray paint. “We should make our mark here, where only we can find it.”
Shit. With that out in the air, he wished for the ability to undo, undo. It was such an absurd idea. “Or is that stupid?”
“Not stupid,” Violet said, hijacking the purple paint. “I’m going to get to work, because otherwise I might cry over such a perfect gesture”—sure enough, her words came out clipped—“and then you’ll go calling me overly dramatic.”
The peck she bestowed on his cheek set off fireworks in his chest. “If it makes you feel better, I’m fairly certain I’m the one obsessed now.”
“Not sure you’ll agree once you see how old-school I’m about to go on you—don’t make fun.” The can rattled as she shook it, and then she wrote her initials. She added a plus sign underneath,
and next came his initials. “Do I add the TLF?”
“I don’t follow,” Ford said.
“True love forever, duh.”
Was she asking…? Even scarier, did he…?
Relax. It’s initials, not a proposal.
His heart palpitated and expanded, and it hit him that he might just be developing L-word feelings for this woman. “Do it,” he said.
Violet connected the L and used the bottom part as the middle of the F, and he did recall seeing that in high school. After she’d completed the F, she drew a big heart around the entire thing.
Using the white can in his hands, Ford painted the petals of a flower. He exchanged the white paint for the purple and outlined the image. “There you go. It’s a violet.”
“Aww.” She pressed her lips together, one hand going to her heart. Then she lifted the white can, the tip aimed at a blank spot of rock. “I have to add one more thing.”
Blocking the section where she was making her mark, she sprayed, shook, and sprayed again. With a flourish, she stepped back. “Ta-da!”
The symbol for Ford trucks stood out against the dark rock.
“Get it?” Happiness shone through her features, and right then and there, he didn’t have to wonder anymore. No might or maybe about it.
Falling in love with Violet had snuck up on him. He wasn’t sure what to do about it, and the idea of telling her caused pressure to cumulate beneath his ribs.
Instead, he decided to show her. He drew her to him and planted a kiss on her still-smiling lips. He meant to just take a taste, but all it did was whet his appetite and awaken his carnal side.
Breaths sawed in and out of their mouths.
Hers…
His…
Theirs.
And before he could analyze and stifle the words, he said, “I want you to stay.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
It took Violet a handful of seconds to figure out where she was.
Different ceiling than at Maisy’s, and then there were the warm bodies. A large male with dark disheveled hair, strong arms, and massive legs rested against her right side. She was tempted to drag her toes up his calf, but the canine curled on top of her feet prevented it.
Both she and Trouble had been told there were no dogs on the bed, but evidently Trouble had conveniently forgotten.
As if her German shepherd puppy sensed she’d awoken, he perked up his head. One of his brown-and-black ears flopped over in that ridiculously adorable way that it did, and Violet patted her stomach and whispered, “Come here, buddy.”
Pyro also lifted his head from his doggy bed on the floor.
Violet wondered how much trouble she’d get in if she told Pyro he could join them.
Before she could deliberate the pros and cons, Trouble bounded onto her chest and went to licking her face.
Ford grumbled as he cracked open an eye. “Pretty sure I told you two that there were no dogs allowed on the bed. You baby him too much.”
“That makes sense, since he is a baby. Aren’t you?” Violet scratched all the way down her puppy’s back, ears to haunches. “You’re my baby, but don’t tell Ford, okay? He thinks I shouldn’t get attached, but it’s too late for that, isn’t it?”
“I can see that. He’s also doin’ the kissing that I should be doing.”
“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to both of you about the amount of tongue you use.”
“That’s it.” Ford rolled on top of her, pinning her body to the mattress. “Not so funny now, are we?”
Trouble had abandoned her, running off to join Pyro in his bed—or possibly to try to kick him out, since he didn’t seem to understand he was much smaller than the big black dog.
Thanks to Ford’s large frame squishing the air out of her, Violet’s giggle came out low and strangled. Yet she craved him pushing her deeper into the softness. To use that tongue she’d teased him about.
She wound her arms around Ford’s neck and basked in the weight of him. The coarse hair and protruding veins and the musky scent that made thoughts hard to keep hold of. “I was going to say that I like it very much. I mean, I’m glad that you don’t lick my chin like Trouble, but—”
The tip of Ford’s tongue hit the base of her neck. He flattened it and dragged it up to the sensitive spot under her ear, one long, wet lick that had her clenching her thighs.
“Never mind,” she breathed. “Obviously you already know what I like.”
Ford devoured her mouth, delving and exploring, tasting and taking. He was so responsive toward every moan, and before long, they were tangled up in round two of sexy sleepover fun.
By the time they fell back to the mattress to catch their breath, the dogs—two of whom had been kicked out when heated kisses turned into lovemaking—began pawing at the door. Ready for food and attention, no doubt. At least they had the doggy door so they could use the bathroom as the urge hit them.
Ford climbed out of bed, opened the drawer to his dresser, and grabbed a pair of boxer briefs.
As she was pulling on her panties, he stared and made a mmm, mmm, mmm sound. “A guy could get used to this view.”
With a quick jerk, Ford yanked on his jeans and stalked toward her. Shirtless, the top button of his pants undone. When he reached her, instead of putting on his T-shirt, he slipped it over her head. Then he pressed his lips to hers.
“Hungry?”
“Starving. All that hiking and hot sex really works up an appetite.”
“Damn straight,” he said, taking her by the hand and leading her into the living room.
Since Violet was more qualified to prepare dog food than eggs, she fed them and then headed into the kitchen to watch Ford move from the fridge to the stove.
Sunlight streamed in from the window over the sink, highlighting every muscle and groove in his naked torso. He placed a plate of eggs and bacon in front of her and then circled the counter and sat beside her with his own plate.
Violet swallowed a bite of food as she gathered enough courage to ask the question she’d yet to ask. If she was going to truly consider staying in Uncertainty, she needed to know that meant commitment. Slowly integrating their lives by doing typical couple activities.
Not that she wanted to test Ford, but she also didn’t want to make the same mistakes she’d made before. Ever since the run-in with Cheryl at the bazaar, she’d had a hard time not fretting over the bakery’s grand reopening.
“Do you have plans on Thursday evening? Full disclosure: I kinda have a favor to ask.”
Ford twisted on the stool, his knee bumping into hers. “Well, you’re not wearing pants, so the odds are in your favor.”
Okay, big breath in, big breath out… “So you know how my father and I have a strained relationship?” Completely rhetorical, since she’d made it clear, so she kept on spilling her guts. “And in case you didn’t notice after the bazaar, that goes double for Cheryl. She seriously tried to bribe me to leave town.”
Ford clenched his jaw. “Typical Hurst move. Throw money at their problems to make them go away.” His fork hit his empty plate. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
His clear and present anger turned her into a boneless pile of a girl. “It’s okay. I appreciate it, actually.”
Time to ask him her question and see if he was the type of guy who’d show up.
“Anyway, Maisy’s having this sign-hanging and reopening event for the bakery at four o’clock. It was Cheryl’s idea, and my dad will be there to perform his mayoral role of cutting the ribbon, and to support Maisy, of course. I could use a hand to hold.” Violet gnawed on her lower lip. “Would you go with me? It’ll be easier to deal with everything with you there, and that way I don’t have to take on my dad and Cheryl alone.”
“I’ll be there,” he said.
Violet almost let the rest of wha
t she wanted to say slide. But that stupid “shame on me” phrase bounced through her head, reminding her that she had to learn from past mistakes.
“While I’m sure this will shock you, I have some issues…” Violet arched an eyebrow, warning him not to comment. “Trust issues, mainly.” Her anxiety left her internal organs in tatters, targeting the air in her lungs until it’d eaten away the last of her reserves. “While I’d love to say everything was all Benjamin’s fault and he’s the only reason we fell apart, I didn’t always tell him what I needed. I made my fair share of mistakes, too…”
Like bashing in his car. A subject for another time, because her point was heavy enough without that fun tidbit in the mix.
“My dad’s also broken promises, and it’s made me realize how badly I need a guy who shows up.” She fiddled with the hem of the oversize T-shirt Ford had put on her, restless energy getting the best of her.
Ford grabbed her hand and folded it into his. “Hey. It’s my job to show up.”
“Yes, but I need you to show up not only because it’s your job but because you do what you say. Because you want to be there for me.”
Ford lifted her knuckles and placed a featherlight kiss atop them. “For you, Vi, I’ll always show up. I promise.”
Oxygen gradually returned to her lungs, and right as she opened her mouth in an attempt to find the words to express how much that meant to her, the dogs went wild barking.
Then a loud knock split the air.
…
Ford answered the door and immediately wished he hadn’t when he saw his father on the other side. The happiness that’d been on full blast since last night evaporated, his worries rising up and poking holes in it.
A visit meant Dad wanted something, and Violet was here, and the pedestal she’d put him on—while it felt damn nice—was about to get kicked out from underneath him.
“What do you want?” Ford asked.
“Is that any way to greet your dear old dad?”
