by Jillian Neal
"Bullshit," he countered.
"Ford, mind your language at my table," his mama didn't even look up from her mashed potatoes to correct him. Callie shot him a mischievous grin at his scolding.
"I call 'em like I see 'em. You're an amazing photographer. You don't need more training. You need more trust in yourself and your skills."
Meridian decided to help him out. There was a reason she was one of his favorite cousins. "If I wanted to have boudoir shots done, could you do them at my house or do you need some kind of studio?"
Callie's fork clanged on her plate when it slipped from her grasp. "Is that a hypothetical question, or are you really interested?"
"I'm really interested. I think it'd be fun."
Sara Holder chuckled to herself. "I wouldn't let your daddy know you're doing that."
Meridian smirked. "Oh come on, Aunt Sara, sometimes it's fun to make that vein in Daddy's neck stand out. I've done nothing but work lately. I deserve some fun."
"Well, I do like what Callie said about connecting women to their beauty. That's a calling, and you ought to answer the phone when it's ringing."
"Thank you," Callie sounded flattered, "I can take them at your house or out on the ranch if there's somewhere private. I can make anywhere work. I already have a ton of backgrounds in mind for when I eventually open my studio, but that's a long, long way away."
"Why?" Ford demanded.
She turned to stare at him like he was shoving the mashed potatoes in his ears or something. "I still have a lot of training to do. There's so much I haven't learned. I have to know everything before I start. Besides, I don't have the upfront money or a location."
"Why not do it in town? There's four or five vacant buildings near the square."
Now, Jamie looked at him like he clearly didn't have anything under his cowboy hat but hair. "Do you really think the commissioner is gonna let her open up a studio taking pictures like that in Holder County?"
Callie defended the idea, but Ford knew it was in defense of him and not herself. "I wouldn't actually put that on the door or anything, but I still can't open a studio here." She turned back to Ford. "I don't have enough experience. I love that you think I'm that talented, though. That's so sweet."
"I don't think it. I know it," he vowed.
Every female seated at the table all shook their heads at him at the same time. He offered them a collective eye roll. Fine, he'd shut up about it for now, but come hell or high water, he was going to convince Callie that she was good enough to stand on her own two feet. He'd just really love to be the guy holding her hand while she did it.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Out of guilt mostly, Callie had stayed at her grandparents’ the night after Ford and his brothers had finished the work on the roof. She hadn't been able to sleep without him beside her. She'd missed those arms, and that chest, and the quiet contented sound of his light snores.
The space between her legs was feeling shockingly vacant, since that was the first night in weeks she'd gone to bed without being with him. She hadn't woken up with that delicious rubbed sensation from his force. She didn't care for the lonely, empty feeling.
Her grandmother tapped on her partially opened bedroom door. "Peace offering." She held up two steaming mugs of coffee.
Overwhelmed with thankfulness, Callie sat up in her bed. "Thank you."
"I think maybe we should talk." Nana joined her on the bed. Callie drew her legs up to her chest. The unease that had existed between them resurrected itself at those fateful words.
"About what?" She hated how childlike she sounded. She was a grown woman for heaven's sake. At some point the fear of disappointing someone was going to get old. Surely.
"Ford."
Clearly, Nana was going to play this close to the apron so to speak.
"What about him?" Now, she just sounded like a surly teen.
"Where do you two see this relationship going?"
Wouldn't her whole life be so much less complicated if she had an answer for that question? "We're very much in love, but beyond that we haven't discussed all that much. I'm good with just love for right now. I don't need more than that."
"What about Derrick?"
"I have made it perfectly clear both to Derrick and to you that we broke up." At least now she sounded her age. Easing into a more adult-like posture, Callie sipped her coffee.
"Yes, well, two years ago you swore you were in love with him, and you said that was enough for you. You didn't need more than that then either. Now, it seems you do. Don't you see how you're repeating your mother's destructive habits?"
"Uh, my mom got pregnant with me when she was nineteen. How does that have anything to do with my patterns? Which are not actually patterns by the way. It's normal to have more than one relationship. Sometimes things don't work out."
"What makes you think things will work out with Ford? Things didn't work out with him and Meritt." Disdain dripped off of every word her grandmother voiced.
"Meritt is legitimately an awful human being, Nana. Like basically despicable. She tricked him into marrying her."
"If Ford hadn't been promiscuous with her, he wouldn't have been able to be tricked, which is what I wanted to talk to you about. There is a time and a place for everything."
Oh, here it came. Callie had received the life seasons lecture every summer from the age of fourteen on. Nothing more than kissing before marriage. Sex after the ceremony. Blah, blah, blah. Clearly her grandmother had no idea what it was like to be with a man with Ford's supreme...talents. With that wicked thought, Callie set her coffee mug on the bedside table. "Are you really telling me that you and Pops never had sex before you were married? That things never got out of hand. You never had...urges." Truthfully, the thought of her grandparents having urges was disconcerting to say the least, but she was determined to make her point.
"Well, I..." Nana grasped for words.
"Ah hah! No lying. Remember, lying is a sin."
"I've not said anything," she insisted.
"It's all in what you didn't say," Callie exulted. "Now, thank you very much for my lecture. I'd really like it if we could spend some time together that didn't include you trying to scare me away from Ford."
"I'm trying to keep you from making the same mistakes I made, Calico."
"Even when you use my full name it's still not going to keep me from being with him." Defiance felt awfully, awfully good.
By mid-morning, Ford was so restless, his brothers had begged him to go pick Callie up so he'd calm the fuck down.
Her grandpa had made a few comments about missing her, so Ford tried not to complain about her staying with them the night before. Callie wanted to make everyone happy. It was a noble goal even if it was impossible.
Sleeping in a cold bed didn't suit him. He parked the truck in her grandparents’ front yard and headed to the door. Callie flew out and raced into his arms before his boots ever hit the porch. Now that suited him just fine.
He lifted her off of the ground and spun her around in his arms. Apparently, he was that guy now. He'd been a cynic most of his life, and here he was spinning a girl fourteen years younger than him around like he'd never been broken. Like he actually believed in love at first sight. Like he really was back in high school. Like he was an idiot.
The thrill in her eyes when he set her back on the ground made it more than worth it. He sank his lips into hers and drank from her like she really was his fountain of youth. "Missed you," grunted from between his teeth when he lifted his head and then returned his lips to hers.
She grinned against the kiss making it even better. "I missed you too," she hummed.
He finally allowed her to breathe. "You're not staying over here anymore. I want you in my bed." When he finally got a visual inventory of her, he noted the hint of a lacy bra tucked between the few open buttons at the top of the denim shirt she was wearing. Clearly, she was trying to kill him.
"I see me being away has brought
out your bossy side."
He studied her. "You still like that?"
"Most definitely."
"Good. I'm too old to change my ways."
She rolled her eyes. "Would you stop saying you're old? It's getting on my nerves. We're a sunrise, remember? It doesn't matter how old we are."
Ford made a mental note to keep his mouth shut about it. "I remember. Are you ready to go?"
"I need to grab a few of my tripods for the shoot with Meridian, but then I'm ready."
"Then let's get. My family says they can't stand me anymore when you're not around."
"Do you boss them around too?" she teased. Ford laced their fingers together trying to quell the constant itch that occurred when he wasn't in contact with her.
"Yeah, but in a different way. Mostly I'm just an ass."
"Well, we can't have that. Maybe I shouldn't be away from you anymore."
"That's precisely what I'm saying."
While Ford balanced two cases of camera equipment and a box of the clothes she’d brought with her from California, her father showed up. A knot of irritation cinched in Ford’s gut. When Callie tucked herself closer to him, he doubled down on his loathing of her father.
"So, now you're moving out?" Abe sniped.
Callie considered the question long enough to make Ford hopeful, but ultimately he was disappointed. "No, Dad, I'm not moving out. This is just some camera equipment for a shoot I'm doing." She injected disdain into every word of her reply.
"Guess who called me last night?" her father matched her defiant tone.
"Who?" She continued to gather random items from the living room and added them to the stack in Ford's arms.
"Derrick."
That stopped her in her tracks. "How did you talk to Derrick? He doesn't even have the number here." Her father's nasty smirk noted his lie, but he seemed to love that he'd gotten a rile out of her. Bastard. "I just thought someone should remind you he does still exist," Abe sneered.
"I'm well aware of his existence. I just don't care. Let's go," Callie urged.
"After you, sweetheart," Ford shot one last try anything and I'll shove my right boot so far up your ass you'll spit manure look at her father before he followed her out the door. But while he was staring her daddy down, Abe's phone buzzed in his pocket. When he lifted it out, Ford got a quick glimpse of the caller's name—Willow.
He burned a path to his truck. Callie deserved to know that her parents were talking, but it killed him that this might hurt her. God, he never wanted to hurt her. But her parents seemed damned and determined to, so his job was to shield the blows by taking them on himself. He’d always be there to hold her if she needed to fall apart. He'd sworn he'd never keep anything from her, and he had no intention of starting now.
He set the equipment and the box in the back of his truck and joined her in the cab. She was balled up in the seat with both her arms and legs crossed like she wasn’t allowed to take up too much earthly space.
Ford held out his hand. She grinned and unfurled so she could lace their fingers together.
"I need to ask you something, baby."
Her face fell. "What?"
"Do your parents still talk? Or does your daddy know someone else named Willow maybe?"
"What?!" she gasped. "No. I mean, I don't think they do, and how many people in this world are named Willow?"
"I'll give you it's not a name like Bob Smith, but I'm sure there are other Willows."
"Yeah, but not that he was married to. Wait—how do you know they're talking?"
"I saw his phone screen when she called just before we were leaving."
Utter heartbreak was laced in her breath and betrayal-soaked tears filled her eyes. They shattered what was left of Ford's heart. "So, she'll call him but not me." Her tone was haunted now. He'd never heard her sound this way.
"Come here, sweetheart," he whispered. He lifted her into his lap. But after a quick moment of accepting his comfort, she wiggled out of his embrace.
"I want to leave. Please."
She's got leaving in her blood. Jamie's warning pounded against Ford's skull, and he hated himself for hearing that over her sadness. Where had that even come from?
"I'll take you anywhere you want to go."
"I want to go to the ranch. Please. I just want to be behind those gates."
And that was music to his soul. She didn't want to run away. She wanted to run to him. He was going to make this work. He could feel it.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Why the hell was her mother phoning her dad? To Callie’s knowledge, they hadn't spoken in years. But maybe she was wrong. No, obviously she was wrong. She rolled her eyes. She'd tried phoning her mother for a few years after Willow had moved her to California. Finally, she'd just given up. The pain was all-consuming. And this latest betrayal pricked at the vacant hole in her chest that nothing had ever been able to soothe. Nothing until she'd met Ford.
As he drove them under one of the Holder Ranch Est. 1889 signs, a little of the knife-twisting pain eased. She was safe here. Her parents couldn't hurt her here. No one could.
"And what was my father playing at, telling me he talked to Derrick?" erupted from her as they made the approach towards Ford's home.
He squeezed her thigh. "I 'spect he wanted this reaction from you."
"He's such a jerk," she seethed.
"Come on, now. You can do better than that. Where's my country girl?"
That, at least, made her grin. She tried to remember a few of the names she'd heard him and his brothers use when they were discussing someone they didn't like. "He's a shitlicker, isn't he?"
"Of the highest caliber, baby doll."
"He was a shitty dad, I know that. What kind of man just lies to his kids to purposefully provoke them? That's just mean."
"He is that. But my daddy has a saying—never corner anything meaner than you. I want you to stay out of Abe's path. He's pissed about me replacing that barn roof. I don't want him taking out his irritation on you. If he wants to talk to somebody about it, he can come find me."
"When I was a little girl, he generally took his irritation out on me." She made that admittance mostly under her breath. She'd so carefully packed up all of those days and buried them deep. She didn't want to unpack them, and yet, they'd forced their way out of her mouth.
Ford gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were pale. "Callie, baby, I'm so sorry for what you went through, but I need you not to tell me that. I'll kill him. You understand that. I'd put anyone in the ground who dared lay a hand on you."
Nothing about his demeanor said he was exaggerating. Callie laid her hand on top of his trying to ease his brutal grip. "I'm fine. He's an ass. He's the splinter remember. He'll never be more than that. I don't want to talk about him anymore anyway."
"No. Dammit, I shouldn't have said that. I want you to tell me anything you need to. I just..."
"Never want anything to hurt me?"
"Exactly."
"I love that and you. But I really do not want to talk about my father or my mother or anything at all. I want to get lost with you."
Ford grinned at her. "Now that I can do."
He made quick work of unloading her things into the living room and then grabbed a few quilts, a thermos full of coffee, and her hand.
"Where are we going?" Her heart warmed at his preparations and that warmth brought the smile back to her face.
"We're getting lost, baby doll. If I have my way, no one will be able to find us for several days, so I better grab some more provisions."
"Are you serious?" Nothing in the world sounded as good as that to Callie.
Ford planted a kiss on her forehead. "If that's what you need, that's what we'll do. My brothers would try to whip my ass when I get back for taking off on them with work to do though. Notice I said try." He winked at her.
Disappointment sank through her, but she didn't want to let him see it. He was so good at reading her. "I'll take w
hatever time I can get. I don't want your brothers to be upset with you."
"Let's see where the day takes us. It's a little chilly to sleep outside at night anyway. No one's going to bother us here, either." He gestured to his home.
Callie glanced around and asked the question she'd been wondering since her first morning there. "I like your house just the way it is, but if you want, I could help you pick out furniture to replace what Meritt took."
Ford nodded. "I've been meaning to get to Tulsa to get new stuff, but I'm shit at decorating. The only things I know I want are a recliner and a bigger TV, which I get probably isn't anything you'd want. If you'd help, that'd be great."
"What makes you think I don't want to cuddle up with you in a big recliner while we watch the Pokes cream the Sooners?"
The utter delight in his eyes made her vow to do that very thing with him at some point. "Pokes have only won Bedlam twice in the last decade."
"I'm telling the universe what I want, remember? Plus, I think Gleeson's going to put on a show with the offensive line in coming years. He was a good hire, and Sanders just needs to get a little more experience under his helmet, so to speak. Next year, we're going to dominate."
"Marry me," he blurted out.
All of the vital organs in Callie's body seemed to freeze at that demand. "What?"
"I'm serious. You're perfect. Just marry me now."
"Ford, I...can't do that."
"Why?"
Oh my god, he was serious. Her mouth gaped open, and it took her entirely too long to remember how to bring her lower jaw back in contact with her upper.
"Wait, never mind," he shook his head, "let me get you a ring first."
"Ford!"
"What?"
"I'm not...ready to get married. I don't think. Maybe. I...don't even...I just...oh my gosh. Are you sure you're serious?"
"Maybe." He shrugged.
"Can we go back to before you proposed because I'm a Pokes fan?"
He chuckled and drew her into his arms, which admittedly made it much more difficult to turn down his semi-proposal. "I know that wasn't a real proposal. I guess I just wanted to see what you'd say. If you'd said yes, I would've driven you out to Tulsa to pick out a ring now, but I don't ever want you to do anything before you're ready. And I don't want to marry you because you like the greatest football team in the history of the sport. I want to because I love you."