A Risk Worth Taking

by Heather Hildenbrand

  “It’s a work in progress,” I explained.

  Ford sat in the empty chair across the desk. “No explanation required. Have you seen my work space? Controlled chaos.”

  “Controlled?” I lifted a brow.

  “I know where everything is.”

  “Yeah, because it’s all lying on the floor in plain sight.”

  “Don’t question my system. It works for me. Besides, all the creative types are messy.”

  I looked around my half-decorated, half-packed office and made a face. “I would say you’re converting me but this is just me procrastinating.”

  He picked up a framed document laying on top of the stack. My diploma. “Congratulations, by the way,” he said, scanning it. “Heard you graduated with honors and a dean’s letter. That’s something to be proud of.”

  “Thanks, but how’d you know about the dean’s letter?”

  “Your dad likes to brag.”

  I smiled. Yeah, he did. Ford nodded at the open boxes sitting underneath the window. “What’s going on there?”

  “New management,” I said. His brows lifted. “My mom left a lot behind. I’m purging.” I left out the part that I’d only this week started the process after my mom had called for me every day since her party. I’d ignored every call—and every dirty look from my dad when it happened.

  “I see, and how’s that going?”

  “Slow,” I admitted.

  “I can’t imagine why. The whole thing sounds like a blast.”

  I smiled ruefully. “Exactly. I’m pacing myself. Wouldn’t want to end the fun too soon.”

  “I’ve never seen you not be fun.”

  I planted a quick kiss on Ford’s lips, forcing myself not to overthink the compliment. I lifted the frame from Ford’s hands and set it on the exposed nail I’d found when I’d removed a piece of artwork my mother had hanging.

  When I’d finished, I found Ford paging through an old farmer’s almanac that was in a stack headed for donation. “Interesting,” he said absently.

  From this angle, his face was a contoured outline of nose, cheek, and jaw. The picture he made, shoulders slightly hunched and nose stuck in a book, made him look at once both rugged and gentle. And endearing.

  No, no, I wasn’t going to think like that. We weren’t in a relationship. This was just … well, I wasn’t sure, but it wasn’t so meaningful that I could allow the sort of feelings that threatened. But damn if there wasn’t something about him that made me want to care.

  “Did you know this one recorded snow flurries in our county in May one year?”

  It wasn’t “our county.” It was mine. He wasn’t staying long enough to claim it for himself.

  I couldn’t help thinking that way, and it distracted me from answering. When I didn’t readily respond, he looked up. Our eyes met and a jolt of something electric shot straight up from my toes. My pulse sped. “Umm …”

  Snow. We were talking about snow.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked.

  Somehow, I managed to blink my way free of the spell. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just … distracted, I guess. I’m throwing those out.”

  “What? All of them? You can’t throw these away. They’re classic.”

  “You take them then. I don’t have the space.”

  He gave me a strange look. It made me feel like he was trying hard to understand an unsolved puzzle.

  “What?” I demanded.

  His voice was gentle as he asked, “Does it make you feel better about her to throw things away?”

  My back stiffened. “Maybe.”

  “I’m sorry. That was rude. I shouldn’t—it’s none of my business.” He ran a hand through his hair. A few pieces stuck that way, making him look younger and less confident. Somehow, it erased any insult the words had caused.

  “It’s fine. I just—Yes, throwing things away makes me feel more in control, like I’m being proactive. And … It means fewer memory tsunamis when I walk through the house or work in this room.”

  “Memory tsunamis?”

  “Everywhere I look I see her things or I see the empty place where her things were before. And this room has the most of her.” I looked around as I spoke. “She spent a lot of time here and didn’t take much of it with her, it seems. The more I purge, the more it might start to feel like mine, instead of something that used to be hers.”

  “They’re divorced. You talk about her like she’s dead.”

  “Not dead. Just … Well, I guess you could say our family died when they split.”

  He shook his head, the gentleness giving way to frustration. “That’s not true, Summer. You guys are still a family. You’re just not all in the same place anymore.”

  Instead of irritating, his conviction made me curious. “You sound like you know from experience.”

  “No. I mean, my parents are still married, but the point is they have faults and problems and they let each other down sometimes. People do that and your parents, they’re just people.”

  I thought about Aaron. I’d let him down, that was for sure. It had been the right thing, but didn’t change the fact that I’d disappointed him. And hurt him. Sort of like my mother had done to my father …

  “Oh, geez.” I backed up and braced myself on the edge of the desk, perching there while I processed that.

  “What is it?”

  “You’re right.”

  His lips twitched. “And it’s shocked you so much you need to sit down?”

  I didn’t laugh. I was too busy drawing parallel lines between myself and a mother I’d unwittingly painted as the villain. “I’m just like her,” I said faintly. “All this time, I’ve blamed her for walking out on Dad. Made her into the bad guy. Swore I’d make up for her wrongs by coming back here. And I did the same exact thing she did. I walked out.”

  “What was his name?”

  I looked at him sharply, but there was no trace of judgment or disapproval. “Aaron,” I said. “We dated the entire time I was at school. He was smart and nice and treated me well. He probably would’ve asked me to marry him after graduation.”

  “What made you want to end it?”

  “I wasn’t sure until after it was done. Afterward, I realized I felt nothing, no sadness or regret, and I knew it was the right thing. I care about him as a friend but no part of me was heartbroken at losing him. And I knew I didn’t want to be like—”

  “Like your mom,” he finished.

  I nodded. “I didn’t want to spend my life with someone who was just nice. Or I just liked. Same goes for a job in the city. I wasn’t excited about any of it. In the end, I think it would’ve felt like settling. Does that make sense?”

  “Plenty. You should never settle. Life’s too short. Do things that make you happy.”

  I tilted my head, studying him. “Is that how you live? By doing the things that make you happy?”

  “Absolutely. Every day.”

  The way he said it, what I knew about his life, it fit. “You make it sound so simple.”

  “It is. That’s the beauty of it.”

  I gestured to the room. “And if decorating this office doesn’t make me happy?”

  He shrugged. “Leave it.”

  “And do what?”

  “What would make you happy right now?”

  I allowed myself a moment to honestly think about it. A grin spread across my face as the answer came. “A mushroom bacon burger from Sadie’s. Fries with lots of ketchup. And a chocolate milkshake.”

  “Well, now, I can’t allow you all the happiness for yourself. Let’s go.” He swept his hand out in a gesture for me to lead the way and followed me out.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Ford

  “Sex is the consolation you have when you can't have love.”

  ―Gabriel García Márquez

  I followed Summer into her office, the air conditioner blowing on my face and combatting the sweat I’d worked up from spending the morning outside counting empty pots
and bags of soil. If this inventory thing never ended, it was fine by me. I’d never had so much fun doing simple addition. Or maybe it was the breaks in between that had me eager to count supplies and check off boxes on spreadsheets.

  We’d worked outside all morning, the heat nothing compared to the humidity behind it. As the sun had risen higher in the sky, Summer had pulled her hair into a bun. Now, small droplets of perspiration left a trail down the back of her exposed neck. The sight of it was enough to make me hard, and I had the sudden urge to pull her in and lick a trail down her shoulder.

  She sank into her rolling chair with a deep sigh and kicked her boots under the desk. Her head rested on the chair, eyes closed. I imagined she was soaking in the A/C just as much as I was, and I couldn’t help but stare. These moments she didn’t see me watching, when she let her guard down and relaxed, were my favorite.

  I sat contentedly in my own chair, appreciating the view. As I watched the subtle rise and fall of her chest, I remembered that phone call with my dad last week. I’d been pissed because I hadn’t wanted to admit my feelings. Not to him and not to myself. Now that I had, I realized Summer was exactly what my dad had said: an adventure. Every day, every moment I spent with her revealed something new. I found myself seeking her out for conversation as much as sex. She had become my friend, my best friend. After only a few weeks, I couldn’t imagine my life without her.

  That worried me. This wasn’t supposed to feel permanent. She was supposed to be a good time, meaningful but not indispensable. I wasn’t sure what to do about it all, but I had no intention of ending it early. I was too far gone for that. For better or worse, this would play out. And I would do my best to make her happy along the way. She deserved that.

  Summer was silent so long, I half expected she’d dozed off. I sat back and closed my eyes, ready to do the same, but a moment later I heard the chair creak. I opened my eyes and watched her stretch before scooting to her computer and powering it up.

  “You awake?” she asked, giving me a smile.

  That lazy smile did more for me than was proper. It was the same smile she wore after sex. I would do illegal things to earn that smile. Shit, according to the state of Virginia, I probably already had.

  “I’m awake,” I said, repositioning myself so my hard-on wasn’t quite so painful inside my jeans. Dammit, it’d been less than twenty-four hours since I’d been inside her and my body was already complaining.

  Summer pulled up the spreadsheet used for logging inventory items. For the next ten minutes, I read off the needed information from the clipboard. The computer continued to freeze up; even it was affected by the suffocating heat.

  I could tell Summer was slowly becoming irritated by the way she hit the keys just a little bit harder as time went on. There was something about her getting angry at the insignificant … Not even the A/C could cool off what was going on in my pants right now.

  “Let me go grab you a Coke,” I said, needing a change of pace.

  “That sounds great.” She stood up to stretch, and I left to get the sodas.

  When I returned, she was in her chair, head back, eyes closed, hands placed delicately in her lap. She’d gotten rid of the bun, and her light brown waves glowed in the sunlight peeking through the blinds behind me. I walked around the desk, trying not to disturb her. In this moment, she was the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes on.

  I opened the can of soda with a soft click. Her head still tilted back, Summer opened her eyes and looked into mine in a way that made my heart stutter. When I leaned over and set the soda on the desk behind her, my hand brushed against her shoulder. I paused, our faces inches away. The air inside between us grew thick.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, her breath tickling my face.

  My voice had deserted me. I imagined my body full of magnets, all pulling me toward her. I wanted her so badly, but I only nodded and began to straighten. If we got distracted—again—this work would never get done. Usually, I was the one initiating things. I wanted to show her I could do the responsible thing.

  Before I could move away, she wrapped her right arm around my neck, pulling me closer. I took a deep breath. Her chest rose toward me, letting me know she wanted more than just a quick kiss. She pulled me down until our lips met. In a burst of passion from both of us, our mouths melded as one. Her hands ran through my hair and over my back, pulling my body closer to hers. Knowing she wanted this just as badly as I did was enough to undo me. So much for inventory.

  With careful movements, I slid the chair out until she faced me directly. Without removing my lips from hers, I lowered myself to my knees and scooted her to the edge of the chair. She responded by wrapping her golden legs around my hips.

  She squeezed her thighs together, letting me know she wanted more. The very defined bulge trapped behind my zipper was evidence of my agreement. Her fingers found the button on my jeans, but I stopped her. “Not yet,” I whispered.

  When I untangled myself and stood up, I thought Summer was going to snap. She stared me up and down, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. I almost ran to the door in order to lock it and get back to her. My shirt made a stretching sound, almost tearing in my attempt to remove it. I stopped in front of her, noticing the way she drank in the sight of me.

  Summer stared at me like a kid on Christmas morning, and I was the present she’d always wanted.

  Before I could bend down to kiss her again, she unbuttoned my pants and tugged. They fell to the ground, revealing all of me. I watched the tip of her tongue dart out to lick her upper lip. She wanted me, and the desire in her eyes was more of a turn-on than any words.

  Summer leaned forward and trailed kissed across my stomach. Her fingertips made slow tracks down my back, sending chills through my body. She raised her head just enough to smile up at me before going lower, one hand moving to grip my shaft. Her kisses turned teasing, skirting around the edges of my hips instead of stopping in the one place that ached for her mouth.

  When her teeth scraped lightly against the inside of my hip, I tensed and let my fingers tighten where they’d tangled in her hair. Her lips hovered over my pulsing hard-on. I held my breath. Instead of taking me inside her mouth, she licked me from the base of my shaft to the tip. I shuddered, and she did it again. When her lips finally closed over my rigid length, I had to lean on the desk just to keep from falling.

  Her tongue worked itself back and forth across the tip, and I barely held back a groan. Summer. Her name sounded good as I repeated it in my thoughts. I wanted to yell it. Using one of my hands to keep her hair out of the way, I shuddered again, and used the other hand to grip the desk. The way she moved, back and forth, up and down—it was a sensation that nearly paralyzed me with pleasure. When I thought I couldn’t take anymore, she paused long enough to raise her head and gaze up at me with those big doe eyes.

  I wasn’t sure what she was asking, but I knew what I wanted. Without hesitation, I pulled her shirt off and reached around, unclasping her bra. I leaned her back in the chair so that I could take in the sight of her. The shape of her breasts was glorious. I knelt down and took one of them into my mouth, gently rolling my tongue over one taut nipple while grasping the other with my hand. She leaned her head back and pushed her still-clothed groin into mine.

  The clasp on her shorts came undone with ease. With my hand against her back, I guided her to the edge of the chair once more. I cupped her ass and stood her up in front of me. On my knees I was eye level with the zipper on her shorts, but I paused and looked up at her face. I wanted to see her desire.

  Summer didn’t disappoint. She smiled down at me before biting her lip seductively. Almost without effort, her shorts fell off—as if they’d known the plan all along. Red lace underwear stared me in the face. I slid them down, using my teeth before kissing my way back up her thigh. Her grip on my shoulders tensed and released with every flick of my tongue as I kissed trails over her thighs and up her hips. My mouth wandered steadily closer
to its target with each kiss placed.

  My left hand wrapped around her back, holding her still against the squirming. She wanted more and I was eager to give it to her. My right hand found its mark, teasing and tickling before slipping my finger inside of her. Kissing and licking her clit, I continued to massage her insides with my finger. With each stroke of my tongue and each thrust of my finger I went deeper.

  Summer’s squirms became rhythmic, building to a crescendo. Her whimpers turned to a moan and she bucked before falling still again. Her muscles went limp as she relaxed into the orgasm. I loved feeling her come.

  When she stilled, I got to my feet. I kissed her neck, turning her so that her back was pressed to my chest. I caressed her in my arms then pushed her shoulders so that she bent toward the desk.

  “Are you ready?” I asked.

  Summer looked over her shoulder at me, brown eyes just dying for me to be inside of her, to become a part of her. “Yes,” she whispered.

  I unwrapped and slid on a condom. With one hand, I move the tip of my cock inside of her. She tensed in pleasure. Gently, I slid the rest of my shaft inside. Summer moaned and leaned her head back in enjoyment. I pulled back and thrust again, keeping it slow. I ran a hand over her back and into her hair, pulling on it just enough to make her moan again. Summer’s knuckles whitened with the grip she had on the desk. She braced herself, pushing against me. I thrust harder and she let out another muffled moan. With each movement, I traveled deeper inside of her. The passion in the air was so thick; I wanted to bottle it for later use. Not that Summer and I would ever need it. What we had was natural. Pure. A lifetime’s supply.

  I leaned over to kiss her neck, close to my climax. My rhythm slowed; I didn’t want this to end, ever. Summer began to shake, and I knew she was close as well. Just the thought of her coming pushed me closer to the edge. Just like when I’d gone down on her, the shaking increased and she bucked underneath me.