“I figured I could deal with the pretentiousness for the sake of speed. In hindsight, that seems like a very masculine way to think. Maybe you preferred the six-hour drive?” They stopped at the SUV, and he opened her door.
“I do not. Thank you for asking.”
He blinked, then his lips quirked at her cultured, affected tone.
“You are most certainly welcome, my darling. Your chariot.” He bowed, sweeping his hand in.
It was actually a pretty great imitation, but it made her giggle. “Thanks, Patch,” she said in her native midwestern accent, flattening her vowels.
“You’re welcome, my dumpling,” he said with a smirk before closing her door.
He got in the other side, and the driver pulled away without instruction. The light teasing atmosphere was gone. Ford stared out the window, brooding.
She fingered her lacy camisole and adjusted the mint green, fitted blazer she wore over it. High-waisted tailored trousers and five-inch stiletto heels completed her outfit. The heels were killers, but she could shop in them all day if she had to. Comfort wasn’t something that was a requirement for being a model. If she were going to shop for a killer dress, she didn’t want to do it in sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt. The clerks would take her seriously in this outfit.
They were going directly to the store. Ford had told her that much after asking her which ones she thought would give them the best chance of finding what she was looking for. He didn’t even pretend to know anything about women’s fashion, noting everything she said.
It didn’t surprise her, then, that they pulled up at the shop that had been her top recommendation. Borealis Boutique. His brow had lifted when she said that, but it wasn’t just because of the name that she said it was her favorite. The clothes were pricy, but they would have her size, including shoes. They would have some of the lines she’d modeled, and she knew what looked especially good on her tall, straight figure.
She wasn’t sure what she was expecting from Ford as they shopped. Disinterest? Maybe he’d conduct business on his phone. She’d been with men who’d done both. She’d also been with men who stood looking over her shoulder, trying to tell her what to wear.
They walked into Borealis Boutique, and she dismissed the salesgirl straight off, saying they’d let her know if they needed help.
Sometimes they could be pushy or stuck-up, but whether it was Ford’s patch, or the glowering look on his face, she backed off immediately.
“We’ll need a dressing room shortly,” Morgan said then walked to where the business evening attire hung.
“Is there something I can help you look for?” Ford asked in a low voice.
“If something catches your eye, let me know. Otherwise, I do have a certain look in mind. I need a belt, probably. Otherwise my lack of curves is too apparent.”
“There’s no lack,” he said in the same volume with a slightly hotter edge.
“I want a skirt that narrows from the hips.” She ignored his statement and the fission of heat that it ignited low in her belly. She didn’t bother saying “pencil” skirt, either, figuring he wouldn’t know what she was talking about. “Nothing that shows too much chest.” She didn’t bother saying “cleavage,” because no one had ever accused her of having it. Being skinny sucked sometimes.
“Something with no sleeves would be okay.” She flipped through the hangers as she talked. “My arms are a great feature. And I want the skirt to be about knee length. No longer. I want to showcase my legs. I’ll definitely be wearing heels.”
“You’re talking about your body like it’s a commodity.”
She didn’t even look at him. “It is. The right dress will leverage our advantage, and you’ll get more than your ‘cool’ billion—”
“That’s not why you’re going.”
Her hand stilled on the rack. “Oh? It’s not?”
She lifted her head, looking into his face. He glowered like a North Dakota thunderstorm.
“No!” he said, his voice low but fierce. “What in the frig gave you that idea?”
“You. Why else would I be going?”
“Because I...because I want you with me. Because I like not just working with you but being with you. Because you’ve worked on this as hard as I have.” He ran a hand over his hair. “Because this is going to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Not the business negotiations, but the showing my weakness while I try to bargain from a position of power. I feel like I can do it, if you’re there beside me.”
“Oh.” That little voice in her head had been right, and she felt like a fool for not believing it.
His voice lowered; a note of insecurity had crept into it. “I booked us separate rooms at the hotel tonight, of course.” He lifted a hand and ran a finger along the hanger next to where her fingers still rested.
What did that have to do with anything?
“I’ve been thinking about a lot of things, and...I know what we agreed to back in North Dakota, where we’re living under the same roof. But I was wondering...could this be less like friend-time and more like...a date?”
His Adam’s apple jerked up and down, and his eye stayed glued to his hand.
The juxtaposition of confidence and vulnerability in Ford pulled at her heart.
With her five-inch heels, she was almost eye to eye with him. She stepped closer and ran her fingers down his neck, resting her hand on the strong muscle that connected his neck to his shoulder. “That means I’m allowed to do this?”
His lips turned up slowly, and he put his hand in the same spot. “I get to do everything you get to do.”
After that, the shopping was fun. Ford gave his opinion but deferred to her fashion sense. They ended up with a dress they both loved that was very much like she described. Sleeveless with a tailored jacket. A wide belt and pencil skirt. Off-white with gold trim.
It still took several hours.
“We can check into the hotel and relax for a bit before supper,” Ford said as they got into the SUV.
“What’s the surprise?”
He narrowed his eye at her. “It’s a surprise,” he said slowly.
His phone buzzed. He moved then stopped.
“It’s okay,” she said.
Pulling it out and stretching it out, he got a concerned look in his eye. “It’s Sawyer.”
“Oh?”
“Usually we talk over the weekend, but we didn’t this past weekend.” He swiped and answered, holding his phone slightly away from his ear so she could hear. His other hand slid into hers, and she barely registered when he answered.
“Sawyer.”
“Hey, man, saw your bird going over today.”
Ford’s helicopter was a distinct deep green with gray trim. Morgan supposed a discerning eye, used to picking out details in nature, would know whose it was.
“Yeah.” Ford didn’t offer details.
Sawyer coughed, long and drawn out.
When the fit finally ended, he said, “Caught a bit of a cold. I probably won’t be out, but I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.” He coughed again. “That wasn’t an emergency hospital run or anything?”
“No.”
Morgan snorted.
“You’re okay?” Sawyer asked.
“Yes.”
“But you’re not home?”
“No.”
Sawyer coughed, this time longer and deeper than the rest.
Ford’s face had pinched. “Man, you think you ought to get that cough checked out? Sounds like you’re hacking up a lung and half your liver.”
“Feels like it too. But I’m not wasting the gas to drive to Rockerton over a little cold.”
“Doesn’t sound like a cold.”
“Well, if you’re okay, I’m going to go. I was missing a cow at feeding time this morning and haven’t been able to find her yet.”
“That’s odd that you’re not out looking for her.”
“Yeah, my legs just wouldn’t move anymore. I neede
d to take a break. Guess this is how it feels to get old.”
Ford’s concerned eye met Morgan’s. “We get back tomorrow evening. Think I’ll drive over Friday and see you.”
Silence on the other end.
Then coughing.
Then one half-strangled word. “What?”
“Think I’ll drive over the day after tomorrow and see you.”
“You never drive anywhere.”
Ford smiled. “I’m in the Cities right now.”
“Morgan kidnapped you. I knew there was something wrong. Blink twice if you need me to come rescue you.”
“You can’t see me, you idiot.” Silence. “I’m not blinking.”
Shivers ran up Morgan’s spine from the low, husky tone of Ford’s voice. Or maybe it was his deep-dimple smile. The slow one that made her heart sizzle.
“Better let this one catch you,” Sawyer finally said.
“Maybe she’ll go slow enough that I can catch her.”
“Give yourself some credit, man.” Another long coughing fit ensued. “I have to go.”
“See you Friday.”
Sawyer just laughed, and they hung up.
Chapter 13
Dinner at a private table in an exclusive restaurant looking out over the Cities, watching the lights flicker on the river that divided them, was amazing.
The waiter had just set crème brûlée down in front of each of them and left when Morgan decided she might as well try to get the answers she was most curious about.
She waited until Ford scooped out some dessert and put it in his mouth. “I was wondering...” She played a little with her spoon. She felt amazingly comfortable with Ford, but asking this question made her feel like there were worms in her stomach.
“Yes?”
“Your girlfriend broke up with you after the accident.”
His eye fell, and he suddenly found his dessert very interesting as he scraped off another bite.
Morgan didn’t let his standoffishness derail her. “What did she say?”
His jaw squared, and a vein in his neck popped out. But then he blew out a breath. “Not much.”
“I don’t want to ruin the best day I’ve ever had. If you don’t want to talk about it.”
“The best?” he asked, his brow lifted.
“That’s right, Patch.”
His straight, white teeth flashed. But he quickly sobered. “She threw up.”
Morgan’s jaw dropped.
Ford laughed at her expression. “It wasn’t all healed, the nurses were changing the bandages. It was my ear that did it, I think.”
“They shouldn’t have left her in there while they were changing the bandages.”
“I’m pretty sure they told her they didn’t want her there, but it was hard to tell Shauna what to do.”
“Maybe you’re better off without her.”
“No doubt.” He set his spoon on the table. “She had some good qualities.”
“Oh.” Morgan scraped out the last of her bowl and tried not to be jealous of a woman Ford had been with a decade ago. “What were they?”
“I don’t know.” He rubbed his nose. “She was tall and slim. She had good arms and nice legs.”
She laughed, tapping his forearm with her hand. “Funny.”
His eye twinkled.
But she wasn’t quite satisfied. “I kind of feel like there’s something that she said that really bothered you.”
“Getting thrown up on can be hard on a guy.”
“Oh, she threw up on you.”
“Yep.” His smile faded. “She really didn’t say much. Just...” He fiddled with his spoon. “Something about me being a freak. How she could never go anywhere with me because it would embarrass her.” He ran his finger along the rim of his empty dessert cup. “She stood, holding her nose as they cleaned up the puke. But when they were done, she came over and leaned into my good ear. She said, ‘I can help you end it with dignity and no pain.’”
Morgan gasped. Her heart broke for him. But she didn’t interrupt.
“I know this wasn’t what she was talking about, but I sat up, the best I could. I wasn’t really supposed to sit up at all, but I wanted to be dignified. I said, ‘I don’t need your help to end it; it’s over between us.’”
He shook his head and pulled his hand away from the table. “Of course, she said the usual lines about ‘you can’t break up with me because I’m breaking up with you,’ and whatever.” He shrugged. “But that just kind of convinced me that women wouldn’t be interested. Which was good. I had a lot of time to devote to building my business.”
She reached over and took his hand. “I know a woman who’s interested.”
He met her gaze. “What if there wasn’t any of this bling?” He waved his hand around. The restaurant. The view. The expensive shopping trip. The helicopter ride. She supposed he meant all of it.
“You know I’m happy just being with you, looking at the stars. Finding puppies in the piano. Having water fights in the kitchen. The only thing that made today better is you dropped the whole ‘friends’ charade.”
His lips flattened. “You don’t understand. If you’re working for me, in my house, and we’re together, people will think that you don’t have a choice. If you want to keep your job, you’d better let me put my deformed face all over you—”
“Stop.” She squeezed his hand. “Stop. That’s not true, and we both know it.”
“I’m your boss. It’s my house. You’re supposed to be under my protection. I don’t want anyone to say, ‘she had to. She couldn’t tell him no. He had her just where he wanted her. He took advantage of her.’ That’s not the way it’s going to be.”
“Georgia comes back next week.”
“Yes.”
“What then?”
“I don’t know.” He pushed back away from the table. “It’s time for your surprise.”
~~~
Ford took Morgan to the Institute for Astrophysics where the most powerful telescope in the Midwest was housed. He’d paid for a private session with Dr. Revelle, and although some of the doctor’s conversation with Morgan went over his head, they allowed him to listen and look through the telescope as well. Morgan enjoyed the evening, as he knew she would.
He’d been fascinated and impressed. He’d enjoyed the look at space, too.
It was almost midnight by the time they made it back to their hotel. Morgan’s eyes still glowed.
“You’re so beautiful. I loved listening to you talk this evening.” There was just something that struck him deep in his heart when she, as beautiful as any woman could ever hope to be, started talking about 3D stellar of the convective boundary mixing consequences. He didn’t have any idea what it meant, but it sounded sexy coming out of her mouth.
“That was amazing. So thoughtful. No one has ever even suggested we go to a planetarium, let alone planned something like this out. I would never even have thought of it.”
“It was worth it to see you smile.”
She stopped at her door, and he waited while she dug her card out of her clutch.
His palms had started to sweat before they’d stepped off the elevator, so he decided to be straight with her. “I want to kiss you good night. But I don’t want you to feel like you have to or you owe me or anything.”
“I thought I was clear at your house when you friend-zoned me.”
“Huh?”
She stepped closer, tilting her head ever so slightly. “I want to kiss you. I wanted to before you took me today. I wanted to before the wind blew your hood down. Pretty much since the evening we watched the light fade and the stars come to life.”
“I’m not talking about you kissing me.” His dimple popped out. “I’m talking about me doing the kissing.”
She tilted her head. A silly little grin hovered on her lips. “Isn’t that the same thing?”
“I don’t think so. But I suppose you’re the one with all the experience, so in stars and fashion and kissing,
you’re the expert.”
“I’m far from an expert. Let’s go with you kissing me tonight, then tomorrow I get to kiss you.”
“I can’t believe we’re having an argument about who gets to kiss who.”
She put her hand around his neck and pressed against him. “I think you’re stalling.”
“Might be.” His hands settled on her waist. His thumbs ran over her hips. “I don’t want to leave you, and I’m guessing there’s a politeness factor involved in how long a kiss in a hotel hallway can last. Not to mention we’re probably on camera right now, and I’m not interested in making you the evening’s entertainment for the staff.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” She balled her hands into fists. “You’re not going to kiss me, are you?”
She leaned against the door, leaning her head back until it smacked the hard surface and closing her eyes in frustration.
He moved closer, the length of his body pressing against hers. She pushed back, lifting her head up until their lips were just a breath apart.
“I don’t care if they’re watching.”
His hand came up and cupped her cheek. He shifted, and their lips met. His world tilted, and she clung to his shoulders, pressing closer.
Kissing Morgan was like flying close to the sun. Shooting stars danced behind his closed eyes, and his soul was pulled to his with the gravitational force of a black hole. His hands slid up and down her back. He needed air but didn’t want to pull away to gasp for it.
A man walked by, and he might not have noticed at all, but the guy cleared his throat.
Ford lifted his head an inch, his eye still mostly closed. “That politeness factor? I think we exceeded it,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“I don’t care,” she said, her eyes barely cracked and her voice just as hoarse.
“Give me your card, I’ll open your door.”
“I want a good night kiss,” she said, handing him the card that was clutched in her hand.
“I thought that’s what that was,” he said. Her eyes opened. Passion burned hot in the blue depths, but humor lurked there as well. A deadly combination. One he loved.
“That was just the practice good night kiss.”
He laughed. “We’ll have to practice again tomorrow.”
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