Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
I didn’t imagine I’d ever say this, but if things keep going like they are, I’m going to stay. I’m happy. Ford isn’t keeping me from his life. I’ve met all his men and their women. I like everyone. The club does have women for the single guys. That was a little uncomfortable, but they were very respectful and Sayla—one of the girls—told me they do not cross the line with men who have old ladies, unless it’s something the old lady wants and joins in. It’s a different kind of lifestyle for me. I appreciate the fact that nothing goes on when kids are around, however.
“I can go out to the garage and get the blanket, sweetheart,” Ford volunteers.
“I … uh … didn’t bring it from North Carolina. I just left it in the house.”
“Hey, buddy, why don’t you go jump in the shower and put on your PJs. I’ll find a blanket and set up a place for us to eat and we’ll watch that new movie you want.”
“Deal!” he yells excitedly, then takes off running to the bedroom that Ford let him pick out.
“No running,” I call out after him.
“Okay, Mom,” he responds—while clearly still running.
Ford just laughs, looking gorgeous. Seriously, it should be against the law for a man to look that good. I shake my head. “He used to listen to me more,” I mostly joke.
“He’s happy,” Ford says.
“I know. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy.”
“What about you, Grace? Are you happy?”
“I am,” I answer, not looking at him as I turn to the oven and take the pizza out of the oven. I place it on top of the stove. Then, I put the mitts down and search for the pizza cutter.
“Gracie,” Ford prompts, and he has quietly moved up beside me.
“You only say my name like that when you’re trying to make me melt,” I mutter.
“I want the truth. Are you happy?”
“I said I was,” I huff, annoyed.
“Then why don’t you seem like it?”
“I am happy, Ford. I just …”
“Just what, sweetheart?” he says, putting a hand on each of my hips and turning me around to face him. I bring my hands up to his chest to brace myself.
“Ford …”
“Talk to me. Remember our deal? You give me a fair chance and we don’t keep secrets from one another.”
“I don’t really have a secret,” I grumble.
“Well, something is wrong. Talk to me.”
I let out a sigh. “It has been good, Ford, really good. It is so good that it feels like …”
“Like what?”
“Like it’s too good to be true. I know it has only been three days, but nothing can be this easy and feel this good—especially in my life.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Grace. I’m going to do my best to spoil you. I never want you worrying about the future. I won’t rest until you feel secure in the knowledge that even when life gets hard we will face it together.”
“I think I’m starting to believe you,” I breathe, giving him the truth—as hard as it is not to run from it.
“That’s my baby,” he purrs, kissing me softly. His fingers are stretched against my ass, and I feel the heat gathering in the center of me. I’ve not wanted sex in so long that the need that is beginning to pool inside of me is shocking. His gentle kiss is breathtaking, but feeling the hard ridge of his cock pressing against me makes me need more. “Now, tell me why you didn’t bring the picnic blanket with you. You and Asher love using that. It makes Asher light up.”
I frown at him. “I just decided to put the past behind me.”
“The past?”
“You know, I should be allowed to keep a few secrets if it doesn’t involve you or us,” I complain.
“Would you want me keeping shit from you? I won’t and I don’t want you to. Keeping any secrets is leaving a door open for misunderstandings. I’m too old for that kind of shit. You and I are going to be a team, and we’ll face things head on. Now, what aren’t you telling me?”
“Andrew bought me that blanket. Most of our dates involved picnics. I thought it was because he liked it when it was just the two of us. Now, I wonder if it was because he just didn’t want to be seen with me as much. I mean, there has to be a reason he kept me away from his club. It never really bothered me back then, but after seeing the way you’ve made sure I know everyone at your club and make sure I’m right beside you, I’m thinking Andrew never truly cared about me at all.”
“Are you still hung up on him, Grace?” he asks, and I can feel the anger in the question. I rush to reassure him.