by Grouse, Lili
“How long have you been awake?”
“Since before you left your room,” Ford said, grinning as he opened his eyes and turned his head toward her. “I was waiting to see what you were planning to do to me, incapacitated as I am and all…”
“This is weird,” Kristen sighed, burrowing down under the covers.
“What part?”
“Just… everything. I feel like… I don’t feel like myself when I’m around you.”
“Is that a good feeling or a bad one?”
“Definitely bad. No, that’s not what I mean. I just… I feel like I’m not in control – not just about things happening around me, but about what I’m feeling, too.”
“And you like being in control?” It was more of an assessment than a question.
“If I’m not in control, I worry that everything is going to collapse around me. It’s like… I never had any control over what happened with my parents, so I made sure I could at least control my own life. If I didn’t let anyone get close enough, I could be sure of who I was and where I was going.”
“And now?”
“Now… I thought I was a city girl through and through, but the truth is I like the little small town events and the way people in the restaurants and shops know your name. I thought kids were the weirdest species ever and that I’d make damn sure never to let them into my life, but now I’m smiling at babies at the store and feeling like I want to help teenagers find themselves. It’s scary as hell, and I wish I could just turn it all off again and go back to the way things used to be.”
“Well, you’ll be leaving after the summer, so maybe California will suck you back in and you’ll never think twice about Greenport again,” Ford said lightly, but there was sadness to his words.
“Yeah,” Kristen sighed and turned around, seeking out his warmth against her back. He took the hint and draped his arm across her waist.
“Kristen?”
“Yeah?”
“You can sleep here if you want.”
Kristen smiled, but it was a wistful one. “Thanks.” She closed her eyes and drifted off into a restless sleep.
When Kristen woke up, it was still dark outside and Ford was still spooning her. She felt warm and comfortable, and turned in his arms to watch him sleep. His fingers soon twitched on her hip and he pulled her closer. She could feel him waking up in every way and hooked her leg over his to increase the delightful pressure against her core.
“Kristen…” he practically groaned.
“I’ve missed you,” she said in a soft voice, stroking his back and urging him even closer. He didn’t put up much of a fight and it didn’t take long before they were rocking gently together – and then more frantically so – until their mutual needs subsided.
“That thing you told me… a few days ago?” Kristen said, her head resting on Ford’s warm chest while he stroked her hair.
“Mm.”
“I believe you.”
She could hear his chuckle rumble through his chest before it escaped his lips. “I’m glad.”
She looked up at him, then. “I mean, I believe that’s how you really feel, not that you’re just saying it to get what you want. That’s a big thing for me.”
“You don’t trust people easily, do you?” he asked, sounding much more serious now.
“They’ve rarely given me a reason to,” Kristen shrugged.
“Kris…ten,” he tacked on the rest of her name when she tensed, ready to correct him. “Why do you hate that nickname?”
Kristen rolled off of him and onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. Loving people meant trusting them, right?
“There was this guy…” she started, summoning courage from deep within, courage she’d rarely forced herself to tap into before now. “We hung out at parties my first year of college. I liked to party. We’d hooked up a couple of times before we went to Cancun for Spring Break. He and his buddy got this brilliant idea to cash in on the ‘girls gone wild’ craze and make their own movies to sell. So one night, he and I did way too many shots – at least I did – and the next morning, I walked out of the bedroom to find him in the living room with his buddy, watching me on tape. Safe to say, I was furious. Dad had to get involved and eventually all copies were destroyed – for a ransom, you might say. He swore he loved me – can you imagine that? It was on the tape, actually, so if I hadn’t crushed every copy with my heels I could have replayed it for you. He always called me Kris.”
Ford didn’t say anything, simply drew little circles on her hand as he held it in his. It was as if he was waiting for her to pour out every single detail that had contributed to her being emotionally distant today.
“He wasn’t the first one who’d told me that he loved me to get me to do something for him,” Kristen said quietly. “My first boyfriend was more boy than friend, but he was popular, and being with him would make me popular, so how could I refuse? I gave him all that I had to offer, and he took it and moved right on to the next girl who had something he wanted.” Kristen could hear the bitterness creeping into her words, into her heart.
“So when I say that I believe you when you say you’re in love with me,” Kristen said, turning her head to look at Ford. “I mean it. It’s just going to take me a little while to break through this shell that seems to have been encasing my heart for more years than you’d think.”
“I can wait, Kristen,” Ford said, sincerity showing in his eyes. “It’s not just about words. Just being with you… it’s pretty amazing. After Suzy left, I didn’t think I’d get back to a place where I could fall for a woman, let alone want to be with her for the foreseeable future. In case you didn’t notice the concrete in the hallway when you first got here, I’d built myself a pretty solid fort. You took a wrecking ball to it, Kristen. And whether you’ve been aware of it or not, we’ve been building something else here – something not even wrecking balls can touch.”
“Have you been watching YouTube videos?” Kristen teased.
“What?”
“Never mind,” she chuckled. And just like that, the tension was diffused. Ford ambushed her with a tickle-assault and Kristen squealed like the teenage girl in love she’d never really gotten to be. Maybe letting her guard down once in awhile wasn’t such a bad idea.
Ford usually hated being sick. Having Kristen around to bring – and feed – him chicken soup and smear his chest with VapoRub, however, had put a pleasant spin on the experience. Of course, the downside of his bout with sinus infection, aside from the prescribed antibiotics and the constantly runny nose, was that Kristen insisted on sleeping in the other room, so as not to catch it from him.
Finally, he was well enough to go out to the construction site and get back to work. Kristen had given him daily progress updates, but he needed to get back out there. He didn’t doubt Kristen’s capabilities as team leader, but he’d accepted the job and he was going to see it through every step of the way.
He knew something was very wrong as the construction site came into view. Where the old lighthouse keeper’s cottage had once stood only the foundation remained. What on earth had happened while he was out sick? Did the building permit come through? Did Kristen have the house that was once his family’s home torn down when he wasn’t around to stop it? A deep sense of betrayal settled into his gut and by the time he spotted Kristen, talking to his men and giving out orders, he was downright pissed.
Kristen almost jumped when Ford slammed his truck door shut. He was mad. She had expected it, but her heart still beat just a little bit faster. Once the permit went through, Quinlan Bankhead had received a notification. If he hadn’t confronted her about it, she might have hid the fact from him. That alone had been enough to scare her – her instinct to protect Ford’s interests over her own.
She’d done the best she could under the circumstances, and soon he’d come to see that, too.
“Miss Barnes, a word?” he practically snarled at her, not waiting for her response before striding ov
er to his office trailer, simply expecting her to fall in line. She wrapped up her conversation with Hal, one of Ford’s men, and followed him into the trailer.
The second she closed the door behind them, he rounded on her.
“What the hell did you do?”
“Ford. Listen-”
“You waited until I was sick to demolish my family’s old house? Was that just a happy coincidence or did you plan it all along?”
The accusation wasn’t only insulting, but ridiculous, too. “Yes, Ford, I lured my way into your home so that I could sneak a cold virus into your food and make sure you stayed out of my way while I carried out my evil scheme,” she snorted.
“Then what do you call that?” Ford retorted, his arm stretched to indicate the vacant lot where the cottage had once stood.
“I didn’t have a choice, okay? In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not the decision maker here.”
“Why not?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you acting like some kind of errand girl? Why aren’t you telling Bankhead what you really think?”
“Are you serious? You, if anyone, know that work isn’t about making all the decisions for yourself. It’s about what the client wants.”
“I’m an independent contractor, Kristen. You’re an architect. If you don’t like something, you can at least speak up about it.”
“And say hello to unemployment?”
“Did you even try? Did you even say, ‘hey, maybe tearing down a century-old house isn’t the best idea’?”
“What does it matter? The outcome is still the same.”
“It matters because if you cared even a little bit about me, about this town, you would have spoken up.”
“Oh, you’re just… ugh!” Kristen exclaimed, almost ready to pull her hair out. “Come on,” she said and flung open the door, heading back outside.
“Where are you going?” Ford demanded, following her over to her rental car.
“Get in,” she ordered, opening the passenger door for him.
“I don’t think so.”
“You’re the one who said you wanted me to take charge. I’m taking charge. Get in the freaking car.”
She muttered to herself as she walked around to the driver’s side, mostly bad words to describe Ford’s fascinating character traits and the things she wanted to do to him – that most certainly didn’t involve a bed of any kind.
The drive was tense, with both of them stewing in anger. She never ceased to be amazed by how quickly Ford could turn her moods around. If he was being grumpy, she got snappish. If he was teasing her, she was ready to play. In no way were they suited for each other. Happy couples were supposed to complete each other – to make up for what the other was lacking and make a whole, fully functional human being. They weren’t supposed to burn on all cylinders. Couples like that eventually burned out.
Ford didn’t speak. Opening his mouth around Kristen at the moment wouldn’t do anyone any good. She was gripping the steering wheel with both hands and talking to herself. He couldn’t make out the words, but he was pretty sure they were about him – and not happy ones.
Okay, so maybe he’d come on a little strong. She was right, he knew what it was like to take orders. Hadn’t he himself accepted the contracting job from Quinlan Bankhead, after all? But even so, he felt betrayed. Maybe getting involved with Kristen had been a mistake – opening himself up for betrayal again.
No. He didn’t regret it. Getting to know Kristen was the best thing that had happened to him since Suzy left. He didn’t know where she was driving them or how long they were going to stay angry, but eventually the anger would give way for passion.
Kristen made a turn and he looked around to see that they were driving up the coast on the opposite side of the bay. He didn’t come here often, but he knew a few people who lived up this way.
As Kristen cleared a rock outcropping, a construction site came into view. He frowned. No-one did construction work in this town without him knowing about it. He frowned even harder when Kristen pulled up and parked the car.
“What are we doing here?”
“See that foundation over there?” Kristen said and pointed to a slab of concrete sitting on top of the hill.
“Yeah?”
“And that house coming up the road?” she pointed to a flatbed truck carting what was in fact a whole house up the less step road leading up the coast.
“You… is that…?” Ford squinted. It looked a lot like the old cottage. On wheels.
“The building permit came through. Both of them, in fact.”
“Huh?”
“You know I had to file for a permit to remove the cottage in favor of Bankhead’s new house? Well, a few months ago, I filed for a second permit. To move the cottage to a new property.”
“I don’t… this isn’t my property,” Ford frowned, trying to make sense of what she was saying.
“I have a document that says otherwise,” she said and reached into her bag, pulling out an envelope that had clearly been opened. She handed it over and he just stared at it for awhile before pulling out the piece of paper inside.
“Well, to be specific, it’s Annabelle’s. But you’re the trustee and occupant until such time she decides to move to Greenport permanently, which, frankly, I don’t see happening. I had my lawyer friend draw up the papers.”
“But… this property… it’s…”
“The people in this town love you, Ford. The Bowmans had planned to build on this property, but now that their youngest is moving to Florida and none of the other kids want to keep a summer home up here, they were looking to sell. Especially to someone like you.”
Ford looked over at her. Her voice had softened, and so had her eyes. He wanted to kiss her. He figured that if he wasn’t going to hold back from letting her know when he was upset, the same should go for the opposite sentiment.
Her lips were chapped from the cold they’d been having, but they were still soft under his. Her little gasp of surprise let him taste her even further. His fingers tangled in her hair as he drank deep.
“We need to talk about this,” he said as he released her. “It’s too much.”
“Are you going to waste both our time being stubborn about it, or are you going to say thank you and start helping me with the interior redesign?” Kristen said, her bossy side shining through loud and clear. “We’re on a schedule here, you know.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he tipped an imaginary hat to her, a grin tugging at his lips.
“And while we’re at it – I’d like to redo Annabelle’s room – if she’s okay with it.”
“Does this mean you won’t be occupying that room any longer?”
“Only if you’ll let me put up new wallpaper in the master bedroom.”
“Anything else?” he asked, fully amused now.
“Have you ever considered a walk-in closet?”
Ford chose to give her a non-verbal response to her question, pulling her close again and fitting his lips to hers. Maybe there was hope for them yet.
SEVENTEEN
Summer
“I’m nervous.” Kristen couldn’t believe she was telling Ford that. She was supposed to be the cool, level-headed one. The big city girl who never let anything faze her. Yeah, right. She was standing in the pastel colored arrival hall, grinding her teeth because a teenage kid was going to get off a plane any second now.
She had no reason to be nervous. She’d Skyped with Annabelle several times over the past months and gotten her approval for the changes she was making to their house. Theirs, as in Annabelle’s and Ford’s. Even though she was living there full time and had decorated the place herself, Kristen still felt rootless. In a few months’ time, her contract with Quinlan Bankhead was up, and she was supposed to deliver a finished home. She wasn’t worried about the building inspection, or even about hearing Mr. Bankhead’s final ruling on the project, but about having to make a decision on her future.
She hadn’t promised Ford forever, and she was getting restless, but she wasn’t so sure she wanted to leave Greenport. Not just yet. Maybe she would in a few months.
“Hey,” Ford squeezed her hand and Kristen returned to the here and now, “it’s going to be fine. The house looks great. She’ll love it.”
“Like you love your new wallpaper?” Kristen looked up at him with a teasing smile on her lips. “Or the walk-in closet?”
“I like the stuff you keep in that closet,” he smirked in return.
“My spanking new one-piece from the Spend n’ Save is to die for, don’t you think?”
“Huh? Was that the one I used to keep the furnace going this winter?”
“No… I think those were my flannel pajamas…”
“Right. They burned well, I seem to recall.”
Kristen stuck her tongue out. A very mature gesture that suited the situation. These days, her closet consisted mostly of jeans and T-shirts and sweaters, with her more high-end apparel securely packed up. The one luxury she still allowed herself clothing-wise was lingerie. Ford seemed to appreciate that, too.
She’d actually come to appreciate not having to worry about what to wear in the mornings. Back home, she wouldn’t be caught dead in leisure clothes unless they were designer and she was on her way to the gym or spa, especially since image was everything in her line of business, but here, no-one cared if her jeans were frayed or her shirt had paint on it. In fact, it was a preferred look if you asked Ford.
“There she is,” Ford said and Kristen looked over to see Annabelle rolling a suitcase that probably weighed more than her, her softly curled hair bobbing. She’d put in highlights, too, making her look like she’d come right off the beach.
“Dad!” Annabelle broke out in a smile and hurried over to fling her arms around Ford’s neck.
Over the past months, father and daughter had grown closer, and when her mother had asked what she wanted for her Sweet Sixteen, Annabelle had told her she wanted to spend the summer in Greenport – after the big party back in L.A., of course.