by Julie James
Ford held out his hands in disbelief. “How do you remember that? And I’m not brooding.”
She folded her arms across her chest and looked at him.
“I know you’re my friend,” he said. “But please, for once, can you just act like you have a penis? Because I don’t want to talk about this.”
She shrugged. “Fine. We’ll just sit here and listen to music.” She reached for his phone again. “Have you heard Taylor Swift’s new song?”
“No.”
“Well, you’re going to—on endless repeat until you start talking.”
Kill him now. “Fine. It’s over with Victoria. What else do you want me to say?” Despite his frustration, he was careful to keep his voice low. “She ended things two weeks ago, and yesterday she came home in the afternoon wearing the same clothes she’d had on the night before. Life moves on, I guess.” He threw up his hands. “There—is that enough of a heart-to-heart?”
“The same clothes?” Brooke looked surprised. “So, you think—”
He cut her off. “Actually, I’d rather not think about that. At all.”
“But . . . you two were getting along great the last time I saw you. What am I missing here?”
Ford sighed. Sensing that there was no way of getting around having this talk, he took a seat on one of the barstools and pulled out the other one for Brooke. After she sat down, he filled her in on everything—except for the stuff Victoria had told him about her mother’s suicide and her trust and abandonment issues. That seemed too personal for him to share with anyone else.
“So, Victoria saw you with another woman, and then, as far as you know, she didn’t come back to her place until the following afternoon.” Brooke looked at him. “Did you ever think that maybe she didn’t want to think about you being with someone else? So maybe she went to stay at a friend’s or something.”
As a matter of fact, he had considered that—more times than he wanted to admit. And the thought of Victoria being jealous and actually caring that much about him being with another woman gave him another one of those stupid flashes of hope.
Which he instantly quelled.
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Anything’s possible.”
Brooke grinned, as if that settled that. “I think you need to find out if it’s more than a possibility.”
“No.”
She cocked her head, speaking more definitively. “Yes, you do. You have to talk to her, Ford.”
He pushed away from the counter and stood up, not wanting to hear this. “No, I don’t.”
Brooke stared at him like he was crazy. “Why not?”
“Because it wouldn’t make a difference!” he shouted. When she blinked in surprise, he turned away, furious that she’d pushed him into this conversation. “Dammit, Brooke.”
He walked over to the window and ran a hand over his jaw. After taking a moment, he turned around. “Even if it’s all true—even if Victoria didn’t sleep with someone else, and she left for the night because she didn’t want to see me with another woman—it wouldn’t matter. I can’t . . . be with someone who won’t let me in.” His humorless smile was wry. “And, yes, I know that’s ironic, coming from me. But if I ever were to go down this road, and let myself fall for someone, it can’t be halfway. I have to know that she’s in, too. I can’t spend my life waiting and hoping for the next good moment, giving everything and loving someone who pushes me away and can’t love me the same way back. I won’t let anyone mess with my head again like that.” He shook his head. “I can’t.”
Brooke’s expression softened. She stood up and joined him by the window. “No. And you shouldn’t have to.”
She put her arm around him and rested her head on his shoulder. They stayed that way for a long moment.
“Sorry I made you talk about feelings,” she finally said.
He kissed the top of her head. “Yeah, you’re kind of a jerk that way.”
“I could always go next door and kick her ass,” she offered.
“Babe, you’re, like, five-two.”
“Not in heels.” She nudged him. “Come on. Come to the game with us. It’ll be fun. You know you love it when they bring the dessert cart around.”
He couldn’t argue with that. Besides, if he didn’t say yes, Brooke would probably stage a damn intervention and then he’d just have to talk more about feelings. “All right. If Charlie and Tucker can make it, count me in.”
Brooke did a little clap. “Yay.”
“I said if Charlie and Tucker can make it.”
She gave him a look. “What are the odds that Charlie and Tucker have something better to do today?”
Fair enough.
* * *
MID-MORNING ON MONDAY, Nicole called Victoria’s office to check in after her meeting with Peter Sutter. Per Victoria’s arrangements, the two of them had met at a coffee shop close to Nicole’s work, so they could reconnect and smooth over some of the “Hey, we had a baby together!” awkwardness.
“So? How did it go?” Victoria asked.
“Pretty good, actually. The first thing he did was apologize for leaving that morning without saying good-bye. And he also said that he really regretted missing the first five months of Zoe’s life. He’s a nice guy. I can see why I slept with him,” Nicole joked.
“And you’re still on for tonight? Peter and Melanie will be at your place at six to meet Zoe?” Victoria asked.
“That’s what he said. But I wanted to talk to you about that. I’m starting to freak out about this meeting.”
Uh-oh. “How so?” Victoria asked.
“It’s Melanie. What if she doesn’t like me? What if she decides that Peter should be focusing on her pregnancy and their baby instead of Zoe? Or worse, what if she decides to get a lawyer involved because she thinks she and Peter should raise their baby and mine?”
“Based on my interactions with Melanie, I don’t think any of that will happen,” Victoria reassured her. “But if it does, we’ll handle it. I will handle it. That’s what I do, Nicole.”
Nicole still sounded hesitant. “Can you come tonight? I’d feel so much better if you’re there, too.”
The request surprised Victoria—she’d planned to stay out of everyone’s way tonight and just check in with Nicole afterward. But after hearing the nervousness in her client’s voice, she couldn’t refuse. Especially since Nicole wasn’t just any client.
I trust you to take care of my sister.
Of course I’ll take care of your sister.
“I’m happy to be there, Nicole. Absolutely.”
After she hung up with Nicole, Will walked into her office with a stack of message slips.
“All these came in during one phone call?” Victoria asked.
“That’s Monday for you,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Speaking of which, can you move my afternoon schedule around so I can be free by five o’clock?” When Will gave her a look—You’ve got to be kidding me—she smiled. “Thanks. You’re a god.”
He snorted disdainfully as he walked out of her office.
And then he worked his magic and had her free at five minutes before five o’clock.
When she stopped by his desk on her way out, he checked his watch. “Time for the big meeting, huh?”
“Almost time. I’m going to stop at my place and drop off my briefcase. Since this is supposed to be a casual get-together, I was thinking I should look less lawyer-y.”
Will looked her over. “Better lose the suit, then.”
Pfft. Now they were just getting crazy. “It’s still a business meeting.”
“Just saying,” he said in a singsong tone.
She caught a cab in front of her building and made a quick pit stop at home. Grumbling to herself that Will was probably right—because, really, when wasn’t he?—she changed out of her light gray pantsuit and into a cream, V-neck sleeveless dress. Then she grabbed another cab and gave the driver Nicole’s address.
The cab pulled up in
front of a vintage apartment building in Lincoln Square. There were six units on the second floor, and Nicole’s was the closest to the stairwell, on Victoria’s right. She knocked on the door and waited. After a brief pause, she heard someone approach, and then the door opened.
Victoria blinked. “Ford. I . . . didn’t realize you would be here.”
He stood in the doorway, looking surprised himself. “Nicole asked me to come for moral support. She didn’t mention you were coming, too.” For a split-second, he seemed to hesitate, and then he stepped back from the door. “Come on in.”
Nicole’s living room was cozy, but small and packed tight with baby paraphernalia. Not sure whether she should sit or stand, Victoria hovered by Zoe’s swing and watched as Ford shut the front door.
He gestured in the direction of the bedrooms. “Nicole’s getting Zoe dressed. They should be out any minute.” He tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans and silence fell between them.
Victoria tried to fill the void, keeping her tone light. “How’s work going?”
“Good. Busy. You?”
“The same. Good. Busy.”
Another silence.
Victoria met his gaze, her chest pulling tight as she fought back the words hovering on the tip of her tongue. Oh, God, did you sleep with that woman? Or worse—do you have feelings for her?
Since this was hardly the place to have that conversation, she simply smiled.
He gestured to her outfit. “You’re awfully dressed up tonight.” Despite his easygoing tone, his jaw twitched. “Big plans after this?”
Just then, Nicole walked into the room carrying Zoe, who looked adorable in a pink sundress with a white lace collar. “Yay, Team Nicole is all here.” She smiled at Victoria. “Thanks for coming.”
“You didn’t mention that you’d asked Victoria to be here, too,” Ford said offhandedly.
“I didn’t?” Nicole cocked her head. “Huh. With you two being next-door neighbors and spending so much time together lately, I guess I figured you would talk among yourselves.” She looked between them. “No?”
Victoria and Ford shifted uncomfortably, neither of them wanting to take a stab at answering that one.
“All right, I want you two to be honest with me about something.” Nicole turned first to Ford, then Victoria, giving each of them a long look. “No bullshit.” She paused. “Does this dress make Zoe look like a pilgrim?”
Victoria exhaled, having been braced for something else. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a pilgrim wearing pink.”
“But it’s too fancy, right? Like we’re trying too hard?” Nicole asked.
Seeing the anxious look on Nicole’s face, Victoria pushed aside her own feelings and did what she did best—focused on someone else’s problem. “She looks perfect, Nicole.” Walking over, she tickled Zoe’s tummy. “Because she is perfect. And Peter and Melanie are going to love her.”
Sitting on her mother’s hip, Zoe just stared up at Victoria with those big, brown eyes.
“Not even a smile for me, kid? Tough crowd,” Victoria teased.
Zoe held out her arms.
Nicole aw-ed and handed Zoe over. As Victoria smiled and bounced Zoe on her hip, Ford walked out of the room and headed into the kitchen.
“Huh. I wonder what’s gotten into him?” Nicole said.
Victoria glanced at Nicole, suddenly noticing that the younger woman’s gaze seemed rather knowing.
Luckily, she was saved from having to answer by a knock on the front door.
“Okay. Show time.” Nicole took a deep breath and then exhaled. She opened the door with a smile, introducing herself to Melanie and inviting her and Peter in. The couple looked very nervous—but also excited—as they stepped inside the apartment.
Peter’s eyes softened the moment he saw Victoria holding Zoe.
“There she is.” Swallowing, he walked over and touched Zoe’s hand. “Hey there, Zoe. It’s really nice to meet you.”
In response, Zoe squirmed and reached for Nicole. Victoria handed her over, and everyone chuckled when Zoe ducked her head against her mother’s shoulder and peeked at Peter with one eye.
“She gets a little shy around strangers.” Nicole blushed, quick to amend that. “Not that you’re a stranger, stranger.”
“Well, I suppose I am a stranger,” Peter said gently, still smiling at Zoe. “But we’re going to change that.”
Not wanting to be in the way, Victoria moved off to the side as Nicole, Peter, and Melanie took seats around the coffee table and began to talk among themselves. She watched for a moment and then, thinking that everyone seemed to be getting along just fine without her, she headed toward the kitchen.
Looking out the window over the sink, Ford turned around when she walked in. “Sounds like it’s going well in there.”
“Aren’t you going to say hello to Peter and Melanie?” she asked.
“Sure, on my way out. The room felt a little crowded.” He leaned against the sink, gripping it with his hands. “So, you did it, Ms. Slade. You brought your first family together.”
She remembered that moment in the car, when he’d been teasing her. That is an unexpectedly beautiful way to describe what we’re doing here, Victoria.
“We did it,” she corrected him.
“Right.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Then he looked away, and the only sound in the room was the chatter of Nicole and the Sutters talking in the background.
And it was in that moment, standing across from Ford on the opposite side of the kitchen, that Victoria realized something.
She hated this distance between them.
She had done this. She’d pushed Ford away and now she very well may have lost him for good. Or maybe she’d never had him in the first place. Maybe what they’d had was always just a casual fling for him, and he’d already moved on. Maybe she would only make things even more awkward if she told him how she felt. And maybe, quite possibly, she was going to end up crushed at the end of this.
But there was only one way to find out.
Why on earth would I ever allow someone to be able to hurt me that way again?
Because you find someone who’s worth facing your deepest fears for.
Indeed she had.
Thirty-two
THE DRESS WAS killing him.
Not only did Victoria look incredible in it—the cream color showing off her silky, golden skin—but it looked like the kind of dress a woman would wear on a date. And he didn’t want to think about Victoria going on dates, because that got him wondering, again, where she’d been on Friday night. Or more important, who she’d been with.
His jaw tightened every time he thought about another man touching her. But what bothered him even more—if she had, in fact, been with another guy—was the fact that she’d spent the night. Because not once, during the entire time Ford had been sleeping with her, had she done that with him. Sure, she’d stayed late, but after they’d had sex every which way and were both so spent they could barely move, inevitably she’d gotten dressed and had made some excuse about sleeping better in her own bed. And he hadn’t pushed back, because on some level it made sense—her bed was only ten feet away, after all—and also because, at the time, he’d figured that her not sticking around until morning would make everything less complicated in the long run.
Yet here they were, nevertheless. With her wearing a dress that some other guy might be unzipping later tonight and Ford gripping the sink so tight at the mere thought, he was lucky he didn’t dent the stainless steel.
Still, he kept his tone light. “So, you did it, Ms. Slade. You brought your first family together.”
“We did it,” she said.
“Right.” They had made a good team, and the proof of that was in the next room over. But that was done, and now, apparently, the only thing that he and Victoria did together was make small talk. And while he could fake his way through a short conversation as they passed each other in the hallway, or at t
he mailboxes, he had a feeling that if he stayed in this kitchen with her for much longer, he would say something he’d regret.
Their eyes met across the room.
Did you moan his name the way you used to moan mine?
Yep. Something like that.
“So, it seems like everything’s going well here.” He pushed off from the sink, careful to keep his expression neutral. “Since you guys don’t need me, I think I’ll head out.”
Victoria pulled back in surprise. “You’re leaving?”
He shrugged this off. “You’ve got this covered, Slade. I’m not sure why Nicole even asked me to be here in the first place.”
She took a step toward him. “But . . . I was thinking we could share a cab home together.”
Good for her, that she wasn’t fazed by all this polite small-talk. But the idea of sitting next to her in a car for twenty minutes, pretending that everything was just peachy, held zero fucking appeal for him.
So he lied.
“Actually, I’m not going home. I have plans.”
“Plans. Oh.” For a moment it looked like Victoria was going to say more, but then she bit her lip and fell silent.
Right.
Moving past her, he walked into the living room and smiled at Peter and Melanie, both of whom seemed surprised by his unexpected appearance. “Peter. Melanie. Good to see you again. Don’t mind me, I’m just on my way out.”
“You’re going?” Nicole stood up from the couch, holding Zoe, and shot a look at Victoria, who’d just come out of the kitchen.
“I think you all can manage without me,” he said, with a light chuckle to underscore the fact that he was fine—of course he was—everything was cool, he just had places to be.
Then he opened the door and left, taking the stairs down and exhaling as soon as he got outside. He ran a hand over his mouth as he walked along the sidewalk in the direction of his parked car, and made it almost a block before he heard someone call him.
“Ford.”
He glanced over his shoulder and saw Victoria following him, walking briskly in her dress and heels and carrying a small leather purse. The sight pissed him off, because whatever this was, whatever she wanted to talk about—his semi-terse behavior, or perhaps the fact that he’d left without saying more to make Peter and Melanie feel “welcome”—he didn’t owe her any answers. “Go back inside, Victoria.”