by Jill Shalvis
Ford raised a brow, curious as to how she was going to finish that sentence. Instead, she fell silent. “Checking each other’s tonsils?” he asked her.
Mia grimaced, and Carlos slid his hand into hers. A show of comfort and solidarity, and though his shoulders were a little hunched, he stood his ground right next to her. Ford stared at him, and though Carlos definitely squirmed, he held the eye contact.
“It’s my fault,” Mia said quickly. “Not his.”
“No,” Carlos said. “It’s mine. Sir.”
Ford scrubbed a hand over his face. Sir. Christ, if that didn’t make him feel old.
Mia stepped in front of Carlos. Or tried to, but the kid wouldn’t let her. “I can kiss who I want,” she said with soft steel reminiscent of Tara.
Ford looked into her earnest, sweet face. Seventeen had never looked so young. “Mia—”
“I mean, I know you’re my father, but I already have a dad.”
Intimidation went out the window. So did the wind in his sails. “Yes, I know.”
Mia stared up at him with those bigger-than-life eyes, the ones that haunted him with what-ifs. “And Carlos is a good guy,” she said, glancing up at the kid still holding her hand, smiling at him.
Carlos didn’t return the expression, but his eyes never left her face.
Ford let out a breath. “I know that, too.”
“And so am I,” she said. “I’m a good kid.”
“My own personal miracle,” Ford said with feeling.
Mia hesitated, as if she hadn’t been prepared for him to be so agreeable. “So you can trust me to live my life. You know that too, right? As well as letting me make my own mistakes?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t make it any easier for me. Mia…” Ford searched for the right words. “Do you have any idea how many times I hoped I’d get to meet you? Get to know you?”
“No.”
“Every day. Every single day.”
Her eyes softened. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Her eyes filled, and she finally let go of Carlos’s hand. She stepped into Ford, wrapped her arms around his waist, and hugged him. “So it’s okay with you if after I get back from Spain, I still show up every once in a while?”
Ford tugged on a loose strand of her beautiful hair. “If you didn’t, I’d come to you.”
Mia’s soggy smile warmed the far corners of his heart.
“I still want to kiss your employee,” she said.
Carlos winced. Mia smiled brilliantly at the teen, and his mouth quirked as if he couldn’t help but love her.
Ford knew the feeling.
“I have to go,” Mia said. “I promised Tara I’d find her at five.” She went up on tiptoe to kiss Ford’s cheek, looking him straight in the eyes. “Promise you’re not going to do anything stupidly dad-like, okay?” she whispered. “No scaring off my boyfriend?”
Carlos winced again, probably thinking of his tough-guy rep and how easily she crushed it. Still, the kid said nothing as the two of them watched Mia dance off. Only when she was out of sight did Carlos turn his head and look at Ford warily.
“You got anything to say?” Ford asked.
“Would it help?”
“No. Get set up. We’re expecting a crowd tonight.”
Carlos hesitated, still braced for a father’s wrath. “That’s it?”
Ford wasn’t exactly prepared for this, although he should have been. He’d gone from having no kid to having a hormonal teenager, and he felt a little off kilter. “For now, I need you to work, but stand by later to possibly have your ass kicked.”
Carlos hopped to work so fast that Ford’s head swam.
The businesses on the pier were making a brisk living today. Tara was out there somewhere with her sisters promoting the inn.
Ford could imagine her in her heels, all elegant and sophisticated and put together, the opposite of how she was when she was writhing beneath him. He thought about that for a few minutes and realized he was no better than Carlos.
The late afternoon was sizzling. The ocean was clear and azure blue, dotted with whitecaps from the light breeze as the sun slowly worked its way down the horizon. Behind him, Carlos was still rushing to set up, sliding the occasional wary glance Ford’s way. “What?” Ford finally asked.
“Are you going to fire me? Cuz I’d really rather have that ass kicking. Sir.”
“Call me ‘sir’ again and I will.”
“So we’re okay?”
“Hell, no. You had your hands on my daughter. I want to tell you that if you so much as think about touching her again, I’m going to make sure they never find your body.”
Carlos paled a little, and Ford let out another breath. “But I can’t do that, either.”
The kid nodded. Yeah, he could really get behind Ford not doing that. “Why?”
“Because Mia’d be pissed at me, and I just got her in my life. And because I was seventeen once and incredibly stupid and selfish. Far more than you, actually.” Ford paused. “Look, I realize you’re just having a summer fling here but Mia—”
“No.”
Ford arched a brow at the seriousness and vehemence of that single syllable. “No?”
“No, I’m not just having a summer fling.”
“So where do you see this thing going? Because you know she’s leaving for Spain when the summer’s over. For a whole year. That’s a lifetime for a guy your age. I don’t want her hurt.”
“I’m not going to hurt her. I love her.”
Ford looked into Carlos’s dark eyes. Whatever a seventeen-year-old could possibly know about love, Carlos meant it. Shit. “Okay, new game plan. If you touch her—”
“They’ll never find my body?”
“Just don’t. Don’t touch her at all. Ever.” Ford sighed. “Someday you’re going to have a daughter and then you’ll understand.”
“Actually, I understand now. And what about Ms. Daniels?”
“What about her?”
“Maybe I’m not forty-four or whatever,” Carlos said. “But she’s a real nice lady. What about her getting hurt?”
Ford was so surprised that words nearly failed him. “Thirty-four. And I don’t intend to hurt Tara. Ever.”
“So…”
“I’m in this,” Ford said, “to the end.”
Carlos looked shocked.
But not as shocked as Ford himself was. He scratched his jaw. “Huh. I didn’t see that one coming.”
Carlos shook his head. “Does anyone?”
Tara was once again peddling muffins. Mia had started off doing it, but she’d wanted to wander around, so here Tara was. “Double the Pleasure Blueberry Muffins,” she said, handing them out, not slowing down enough to engage in conversation until someone came up behind her and grabbed her with two strong arms, snagging a muffin in each hand.
Logan.
He bit into a muffin. “Mmm, damn you’re good. Hey, I have some photographers coming in tomorrow from People. I made the Hottest 100 List. Your bartender ever do that?”
She shot him a look, and he laughed. “You know, I even miss your Don’t-Make-Me-Kick-Your-Ass expression. Anyway, People’s bringing a few models in bikinis to drape themselves over a prop car to pose with me. Thought maybe you’d want to take their place.”
“Oh, I would,” Tara said drolly. “Except hell hasn’t frozen over.”
He grinned. “Okay, I guess I’ll have to make do with the models then.”
“Yeah, I bet that’s going to be real tough.”
Logan tugged on her hair. “I’m still holding out hope for me, Tara. For us.”
But the “me” had come before the “us,” and it always would. Logan was a good guy, just not the right good guy for her. She knew that. On some level, she’d always known that. “Logan—”
“Hold that thought, darlin’. My fan club’s calling.”
She watched as he stepped away to be engulfed by a group of women that included Sandy and Cindy.
> With a helpless laugh, Tara turned and found Chloe standing there.
“Want a reprieve?” Chloe asked, reaching for the basket of muffins.
“Yes,” Tara said. “But what’s wrong with this picture, you offering to help?”
Chloe ignored that and handed out a few muffins with a welcoming smile that Tara couldn’t have pulled off to save her life.
Sawyer came walking through the crowd. He was in uniform, talking on his cell when Chloe purposely stepped into his path. “Muffin, officer?”
He stopped and looked down at her, and Tara held her breath. These two hadn’t exactly seen eye to eye on… anything. Sawyer was six-foot-three and more than a little intimidating, but the petite Chloe just smiled sweetly up at him as if she hadn’t been a thorn in his side since she’d first come to town. “They’re Double the Pleasure Blueberry Muffins. Take two and quadruple your pleasure. Officer.”
He never looked away from Chloe’s face. “You make them?”
She laughed. “Why? You afraid?”
“Depends. Answer the question.”
“Ah,” Chloe said. “You think I poisoned them.”
“Maybe just the ones you saved for me.”
Chloe slowly eyed him from head to toe and back again. “It’d be a sacrilege.”
Tara almost choked.
Sawyer didn’t react, other than to slowly remove his sunglasses. “What are you up to?”
She reached over and plucked an invisible piece of lint from his pec. “If I have to tell you,” she murmured, “I’ve gotten rusty.”
Sawyer’s gaze locked on hers. From five feet away, Tara felt the blast of heat between them, and it nearly knocked her back a step. She had no idea why Chloe was playing with him, why she was jerking his chain, and she had even less of an idea why Sawyer put up with it. But there was a shocking amount of tension there that she hadn’t noticed before.
Sexual tension.
Sawyer’s radio squawked. Eyes still on Chloe, he didn’t move.
“You have to go,” Chloe said lightly, as if nothing had happened. She handed him a few muffins. “Stay safe now, you hear?”
Sawyer looked at her for a long beat, clearly perplexed and suspicious of her unexpected niceness, poor guy. “You,” he finally said, putting his sunglasses back on, “are a menace.”
Chloe smiled and nodded. “Yes. Yes, I am. Don’t you forget it now. Buh-bye.” She slid her arm in Tara’s and steered her away.
“What was that?” Tara whispered.
“Me giving away a few muffins.”
“I meant the messing with the poor guy’s head.”
Chloe lifted a shoulder. “It’s a give-and-take situation.”
Tara slid her a glance. “Meaning?”
“Meaning maybe his head isn’t the only one being messed with.” Not explaining that cryptic statement, she continued to hand out muffins.
“Chloe—”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Then can we talk about why you’re helping me?” Tara asked.
“What, a sister can’t help another sister?”
“Yes, if she wants something.”
“Well, I don’t,” Chloe said, sounding hurt.
Crap. “Okay, that was rude,” Tara admitted. “I’m sorry.”
Chloe grinned. “Wow, Maddie’s right. You are a lot more mellow now that you’re boinking Ford. I hadn’t really noticed. I do want something. I want tonight off to go rock climbing, if you’ll wake me in the morning. I’m giving a big spa day tomorrow at the Seattle Four Seasons.” She smiled at the guy coming up to her side and handed him a muffin. It was Tucker, Lance’s twin.
“We’re leaving in half an hour,” he said.
“Are we going to get arrested again?” Chloe asked hopefully.
Tucker laughed. “No. This time we really do have permission to be on the Butte. I’m going to go get the gear ready, while Lance works the booth. Jamie and Todd are coming too.”
Tara held back her negative comment. She adored Lance and Tucker, but not Jamie’s cousin Todd. When he was around, bad things tended to happen.
“Well, then,” Chloe said, unconcerned, “I should help.” She looked at Tara, who nodded, then handed back the basket and headed off.
“Be careful,” Tara said and knew that, of course, she wouldn’t be. She looked down at the basket, feeling alone. Both of her sisters had other people in their lives. Tara had neglected to achieve that for herself. An oversight on her part. She’d been so busy trying to make the inn a success, and making sure not to lose herself this time, that she hadn’t managed to cultivate many friends here.
Okay, that wasn’t quite true. She’d made plenty of time for one person in particular—too much time.
Ford, of course. It always came back to Ford.
She realized that while thinking of him, she’d walked up to his booth. She shouldn’t have been surprised, since with him and only him, she seemed to know exactly who she was.
And who she wasn’t.
Jax was behind the bar though, not Ford, and she told herself it was silly to be disappointed.
“What’ll it be?” Jax asked with a friendly smile.
“Oh, I…” She hadn’t come for a drink. She’d come for a peek at the man she couldn’t stop thinking about. She looked casually around.
Jax raised a brow. “Want a hint?”
Tara felt a tingle at the back of her neck and closed her eyes. “He’s right behind me, isn’t he?”
“Yep.”
With a sigh, she turned around to face Ford. He was looking comfortable and relaxed in a Mariners’ baseball cap, cargos, and a T-shirt that said SAIL FAST, LIVE SLOW.
He shot her a slow smile that spread warmth to parts of her that didn’t need warming. “Hey,” she said casually. Wow, look at her all composed. Tranquil. “Well”—she backed away—“I hope you get a good crowd tonight.”
Not fooled, he stepped in her path. “Going somewhere?”
“I’m working.”
“Really? Because it seemed like maybe you were looking for me.”
Dammit. “Why would I do that?”
He gave that soft laugh, the one that always made her quiver. “Because you want me bad.”
God. She looked around to make sure Jax couldn’t hear them, but he’d turned his back and was setting up. “I already had you,” she whispered.
“Yes,” Ford said. “Hence the bad part. Walk with me.” Without waiting for her to refuse him, he took the basket out of her hands and set it behind the bar. With a hand low on her back, he directed her through the throng of people, with the sounds of the music and laughter all around them. The Ferris wheel was slowly revolving, going round and round.
Like her life.
“You know that Carlos thinks he loves Mia.”
“Yes. But they’re too young for love.”
Ford’s mouth curved slightly. “That thought would have pissed you off at seventeen.”
True. Tara rubbed her temples. “Okay, I’m going to take heart in the fact that they seem to be smarter than we were. Her adoptive parents did a good job of raising her.”
“Yeah.”
They were both silent as they passed the Ferris wheel, and Tara knew that they were each thinking, thank God that Mia’s parents had done such an obviously amazing job. Tara was grateful to them, so damn grateful. “And did you know that Sawyer and Chloe are circling each other like two caged tigers?”
“That’s actually just Sawyer who’s the caged tiger. Chloe’s in the center of the ring with the whip, toying with him.”
“I’m sorry.”
Ford shook his head. “Sawyer’s a big boy.”
They slowed in front of the ice cream parlor, which was having a tasting party. Lance stood behind the counter offering samples of everything they had. “What’ll it be?” he asked them.
Tara pointed to the double fudge chocolate, which melted in her mouth.
“If you liked that, try thi
s one.” Lance handed over another tiny spoon. “It’s Belgian dark chocolate.”
“Oh Lord.” She moaned as she swallowed the heavenly taste. “How about that one, what’s that?” she asked, pointing to another chocolatey-looking concoction.
“Chocolate E. For ecstasy. Careful with it,” Lance warned with a wink at Ford. “They call it pure sin.”
Tara tested it and moaned again. She’d never had anything so delicious in her life.
“Want a cone with that?” Lance asked.
Indecision. They were all so amazing that she had no idea how she was going to pick. “Wait, I didn’t taste the chocolate butter toffee,” she murmured, and Lance patiently offered her another tiny spoon.
She was in mid-heavenly sigh when she felt Ford shift close behind her, his mouth brushing her ear. “Moan through one more sample,” he warned in a thick husky whisper, “and I’m dragging you to the closest dark corner on the pier. And Tara?” His breath was warm against her skin, making her shiver. “By the time I’m done with you, you won’t remember your own name.”
She couldn’t remember her own name now. “That’s a pretty outrageous threat,” she managed.
“Yes, and if you’re very lucky, I’ll wait until we’re alone to carry through on it.”
She turned to face him just as he reached past her to accept his own tiny spoon sample from Lance. Eyes on hers, Ford licked at it slowly.
Tara’s thighs quivered.
“Order your ice cream,” he told her, and took another lick.
Later she couldn’t remember what she ordered. All she remembered was Ford holding her hand on the walk back through the crowd, with need and hunger and desire pounding through her veins instead of blood.
By silent agreement, they headed directly to his car. He drove them to the marina and to his boat. Still silent, they boarded.
The moon was nothing but a narrow sliver on the water, lapping quietly at the boat as they turned to each other.
Chapter 24
“For every action, there is an equal and opposite criticism. Ignore it.”
TARA DANIELS
There was only the faintest glow of a quarter moon on the water. The night had a hushed quiet to it—with the exception of Tara’s heavy breathing and low moans.