Every Little Kiss (Sequoia Lake Book 2)

by Marina Adair

  She held the petal to her nose and breathed it in. Bullseye flopped on the ground and began rolling in the flowers.

  “This is the perfect place for a family event,” she said, turning around. “It’s easy to reach—a two-minute walk from the main part of Wagon Days—but far enough out to feel like you’re in another time.”

  Ford bent over to let Bullseye off the leash. Legs pointed toward the sky, Bullseye let out a yawn and closed his eyes.

  “It’s also private property, owned by Sequoia Lake Lodge, and I happen to know the owner,” he said, referring to Ty and his parents, who would help in a heartbeat. All Ford had to do was ask.

  “What about the permit issue?” she asked, taking in the sequoia trees and pines.

  “By avoiding forest land and having the right personnel already lined up, there’s no good reason for them to deny the permits.”

  She ran a hand along the trunk of an old oak, her hair loose and dancing in the breeze. “So when Kevin’s guy said he couldn’t sign off on the permits . . . ?”

  “He’s full of shit.”

  Her lips quirked. “He said the same thing about my guy.”

  “You have a guy?” he asked, liking the sound of that too much.

  “I did yesterday,” she confessed, walking to the edge of the clearing to look at the lake. “And it felt really good to not be on a team of one for a change.” She turned and looked up at him, those big expressive eyes filled with gratitude and warmth, and Ford felt like a fake. He didn’t deserve either emotion from her. And he especially didn’t deserve the other thing he saw lurking beneath it all—trust. “You really meant that all it would take was me saying I needed help.”

  “I did, but don’t let that fool you into thinking I’m some kind of hero, Liv,” he said. “You need help, and I need to finish up here so I can get back to my life in Reno.”

  She leaned against the trunk of a nearby tree and studied him. “If this was just you doing your job, then why are you here instead of heading into the office?”

  Good question. And one he didn’t have an answer to. The only thing he knew for certain was that he was leaving in a few weeks, and this was the closest he’d come to finding peace in years.

  “You’re not the only one who needs someone in their corner,” he said, picking up a stick and rolling it in his hands. “There’s a lot riding on my ability to pass this test, and when I’m out here like this, everything doesn’t feel so heavy.”

  She looked at him for a beat. Her eyes serious, assessing, and so soft he wanted to look away. “You don’t look like the kind of guy to shy away from a challenge. So if it’s not the challenge or the test that’s weighing on you, what is it?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said, tossing the stick. Bullseye halfway opened a lid, then closed it.

  “It matters to me.” Then she quietly added, “You know, going it alone isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

  He gave her a pointed look. “Ironic advice coming from you.”

  “I’m working on the reaching-out part. You’re here, aren’t you?”

  “Only because you were afraid of what people would think when they saw me trailing behind you in nothing but jeans and bedhead.”

  “And because I know I can’t do this all on my own,” she said. “And that’s a scary thing for me to admit.”

  “That you’re on your own?”

  She shook her head. “That I can’t handle everything on my own, and relying on an outside factor for security takes me out of the driver’s seat. The rules can abruptly change, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

  Ford’s chest went tight at her admission. “Maybe we aren’t supposed to stop it?”

  “If you believed that, you wouldn’t put your life on the line to save others,” Liv said. “It’s because we believe the way we do that makes us so good at our jobs. We’re protectors—it’s what we do.”

  “But you can’t protect everyone,” he said.

  “Maybe not, but knowing you did the best you could has to be enough.”

  Ford had never considered how similar their jobs were. Just like he’d never considered how talking with Liv, about this, could feel so natural. “The weekend of my test I was at a rescue in Montana. A mudslide took out six houses in a cul-de-sac at the bottom of the mountain, including the home of a young family of four.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “The mom told the responding officers that she heard a loud noise in the middle of the night and went out to see what it was. I guess the husband had come home from work sick, so she didn’t want to wake him. She figured she’d investigate the noise, and if it was bad, she’d wake him after. There wasn’t enough time for an after.”

  “Was the family inside?”

  “Sound asleep—they didn’t even know what hit them. It was so dark the wife couldn’t tell the difference between a wall of mud and the night. It took less than a second for all six houses to be completely buried under twenty feet of mud and clay.”

  “Were you there?” she asked, reaching out to place a hand on his arm, letting it rest there. There was nothing sexual about the simple connection, but it rocked him all the same. Reminded him of just how long it had been since he’d opened up to someone like this.

  “No, they flew me and Bullseye out the next day.” He remembered walking up on the scene, knowing he’d have to use GPS to even predict where the houses would have been. “It took less than an hour for Bullseye to identify the location of two of the bodies, but we couldn’t locate the third. And that’s when I noticed this kid. He was around eleven. All bony arms and legs, covered head to toe with mud, lying down on the ground.”

  “Oh, Ford.”

  He looked out at the lake, focused on the gentle ripples on the surface. “I went over to see if he was okay, and you know what he told me? That he’d snuck out that night to meet his friends. They were going to go watch the lightning storm from some peak, and he needed help getting back inside the house. He’d seen all of the mud, logically knew what it meant, but spent the night trying to crawl through it to be with his family.”

  What Ford left out was that he knew exactly how that kid felt. He’d been trying his whole life to crawl back inside a home that was safe and full of life. He understood how impossible a mission it would be.

  “That must have been devastating,” she said, and Ford realized her concern was for him, not the boy. “You’re a fixer who was placed in a situation where there was no perfect solution. That would shake anyone.”

  “It isn’t the lost ones that get to me.” Much. “It’s the not knowing that I can’t let go of. I never get to see how my call or decision plays out over the long run,” he explained, because while Liv was also a protector, she had the benefit of watching them check out of the hospital.

  First responders weren’t allowed that luxury. The second the ambulance pulls away, the story ends. Ford never knew if they made it to the hospital alive or how their lives went after they were released.

  Being able to turn off when he clocked out was imperative for job longevity. Ford used to be able to flick that switch without hesitation. But most nights as of late, he couldn’t manage to find the dimmer.

  “You care,” Liv said. “That’s a good thing.”

  Ford looked up at the trees overhead and blew out a breath. “Sometimes I think I care too much.”

  “Not possible.” She stepped into him until they were as close as one could get to a hug without moving their arms. “Your caring helped that family find closure.”

  He shook his head. “A body for the casket isn’t closure. That kid and his mom will never be the same.”

  “No,” she said, resting her other hand on his arm. “They won’t, but I can tell you from experience that they will find a new path. It may take a while, but it will happen. It’s taken me two years to get to this point.” Liv paused to take a breath. “I lost my husband in a car accident.”

  “I know,” he admitted quietly
. Just like he knew this was the time to come clean. He couldn’t sit by and let her talk about her loss without being honest about his role in it. “I’m so sorry, Liv. I don’t know what to say to make this easier, but—”

  “You don’t have to say anything,” she assured him, placing a finger on his lips. “Most of the time I don’t know what to say, which is why I haven’t brought it up. I like that you don’t treat me different or look at me like I’m broken. It gives me the freedom to explore this new path, just like that mom and son will eventually explore theirs. And someday they’ll even find peace with it.”

  “Have you?” he asked, desperate to see how her answer would change things. “Have you found peace?”

  “Most days,” she said. “In fact, one more step to go, and research assures me I will be back to normal. Whatever normal even is.”

  “How about today?”

  Liv’s lashes fluttered closed and she inhaled, her chest slowly rising and then holding. After a long moment, she opened her eyes and breathed, “Yes.”

  Ford couldn’t explain what happened next, only that one moment they were talking and the next they weren’t. Oh, there was plenty being said, just not with words. Liv’s hand was no longer on his arm, but on his chest, and her back was pressed against the trunk of an oak tree.

  His hands? Well, they were braced above her head. To an outside observer, it would appear as if he were caging her in, but the truth was, she was pulling him to her.

  “Remind me again what step four is.” Because Liv looked as if she were reconsidering her stance.

  “Why?”

  “I’m pretty sure it has something to do with what’s happening right now.”

  Liv looked down at her hand, which had dropped a few inches south, and her breath caught. “Step four is taking the emotional energy I would have spent on Sam and reinvesting it in a new relationship,” she said, as if reciting it from an article.

  But her hands didn’t move, he noticed.

  “It’s the hardest step, because it’s saying I’m ready to move on, and that sounds disloyal. But it’s also the most important step.”

  There wasn’t much Ford wouldn’t give to reinvest all the energy he focused on the past into a future with Liv. Hell, one night would go a long way toward soothing his soul. She was warm and open and one of the sexiest women he’d ever met. When he wasn’t around her, all he could think about was seeing her. And when he was with her, he couldn’t stomach the idea of leaving.

  “You said earlier that you aren’t ready for step four.”

  “I did?”

  Ford was pretty sure she meant to word it as a statement and not a question. “Then why do you look like you want me to kiss you?”

  “Do I?” she whispered, and that was definitely a question. He could see the conflict in her eyes, right below the nerves. Oh, and there was another emotion, potent and tempting as hell, lighting those golden pools. Need. There was a hell of a lot of need.

  “Yeah, you do,” he said, for her as much as himself. Liv’s gaze dropped to his mouth, and Ford’s heart hammered so hard he had a hard time thinking clearly. And he’d promised Liv that everything they did would be clearheaded. “So I need you to tell me that you aren’t ready for this.”

  Because they were on the edge of something dangerous, something so combustible all it would take was one spark to ignite. And with his history with women, it was bound to burn hot and fast. But, man, he wanted some of that fire.

  “Step four is about a new relationship.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “It doesn’t say anything about kissing.” And on that last word, her eyes zeroed in on his lips and—fuck me—she wanted him to kiss her.

  Only Liv was a single mom with a complicated past, which was new territory for him—territory he wasn’t sure how to navigate. Flirting was one thing, but taking it to the next level when he knew he was leaving, knew she wasn’t a casual kind of woman, was completely different—only she looked like she was about to prove him wrong by making the first move.

  And God help them both if she did.

  “Be sure, Liv,” he warned. “Because once you go there, you can’t come back.”

  She didn’t make a move either way, and neither did he, instead waiting for her to decide. Watching her struggle with the finality of it all. Either way she went, one road would come to an end.

  A gentleman would have ended it for her, but gentle was the last thing Ford was feeling. Not when he was a breath away from getting a taste of that peace he’d been so desperate to find.

  And then it happened. He saw it in the way her body softened and her eyes bore into his. Yup, in one breath, Ford went from the unluckiest son of a bitch to walk the planet to the luckiest in a single, simple statement that changed everything.

  “I’m tired of going back,” Liv said.

  It took about three seconds for it to register that while Ford stood under that old oak tree, the bark digging into his hands, less than five miles from the site that had ruined so much, Olivia Preston, the woman whom he couldn’t get out of his head, was kissing him.

  It wasn’t one of those pent-up, get-down-to-business kind of kisses Ford had become accustomed to over the past few years. Nope, this kiss was completely foreign to him, in a way that was familiar and comforting. She brushed his lips once, then another tentative touch, and Ford gripped the trunk harder, wanting to let her set the pace. A pace that was so agonizingly slow, he thought he’d go crazy with want.

  “Ford,” she murmured in soft invitation, and he’d never RSVP’d so fast in his life. Cradling the back of her neck, Ford took over the kiss, languidly teasing and tasting until Liv let out a little sigh of contentment.

  He slid his arms around her, pulling her close, and damn if she didn’t rise on her toes to meet him. Pressing her lips to his in a kiss so sweet, something more than lust settled in his chest.

  Ford knew right then, in that field, that when it came to this woman, it was the gentle that was going to kill him. One touch and he knew that nothing could be better than this.

  CHAPTER 11

  “It was just a kiss,” Liv repeated for the third time that night, refusing to be one of those women who obsessed over ridiculous things—like how it had been three days since the kiss and Ford hadn’t called. Not that she’d expected him to, or even that she would have known what to say if he had, since “Thanks” was the best she’d come up with.

  But some kind of word would have been nice, especially since she hadn’t seen his Jeep in the driveway.

  “Then why did you scout out the bar before agreeing to come inside?” Avery asked, with a knowing grin.

  “I was looking for Grace,” Liv said primly.

  “Grace is right there, in the same place she was two minutes ago when we were outside and she waved us in.” Avery pointed to a booth in the far back corner. “Yet you haven’t taken your eyes off the bar since we walked in.”

  Just like she couldn’t get her mind off the way her body had melted when Ford’s lips touched hers in a kiss that changed everything. It felt like the end and the beginning all at the same time, which probably explained the big, confusing knot of emotions in her chest that wound tighter every day that passed.

  “Just reading the specials on tap tonight,” she said.

  It was Tap-That Thursday at the Backwoods Brewhouse. With half-price local brews, every stool was filled, and the bar was three deep—which made finding anyone difficult. Even the group of search-and-rescue guys gathered at the side of the bar in bright orange were hard to make out.

  “Uh-huh,” Avery said, calling Liv on that lie.

  Not that it was a lie, really. Tonight was a celebration, and instead of going for her regular order of Riesling, Liv was determined to branch out, be adventurous. Which sounded like fun, except she couldn’t stop wondering what had happened to her last adventure.

  Earlier that day, Dr. Brown had submitted Liv to the board as a viable candidate, so keeping her focus was esse
ntial—and that meant keeping things professional. At least until she heard back on the permits. A hard task when she knew what his lips tasted like.

  “You should consider the Flaming Pig’s Ass—it will go with that goofy grin you’ve got going on,” Avery said with a teasing grin, dragging Liv through the bar and straight for Grace, weaving in and out of the crush of people.

  The open rafters, stacked-log walls, and vintage aging tanks displayed the deep roots of the historic mountain brewery, while the antler chandeliers and sleek leather furniture brought a hunting-lodge feel to the brewhouse turned bar and grill.

  Grace sat in a booth covered in Liv’s favorite fried foods, a bottle of champagne, and three glasses. Liv’s chest expanded over the thoughtful gesture. It had been a long time since she’d had something to celebrate. Even longer since she’d had someone to celebrate with.

  Liv had no sooner slid into the booth when Grace offered Liv a glass, then raised her own in toast. “To our friend Olivia. For moving up and making out.”

  Liv took her glass but glared at Avery over the rim. “Seriously? You told her?”

  “Of course she told me.” Grace clinked glasses. “Now, spill. I want to hear everything. Where did it happen? Who made the first move? What where you wearing? Is it going to happen again?”

  “Poppy fields. Me. Clothes. And probably not.” With that out of the way, Liv emptied her glass in one swallow.

  “What do you mean probably not?” Grace sounded as if she’d just learned unicorns didn’t exist.

  “Just what I said.” Liv grabbed a celery stick off the wings plate and dipped it in ranch. “It was an in-the-moment thing, the moment is over, and I think I’ll skip the beer and go with a Riesling.”

  “Liv,” Grace said in that nurturing tone that had the power to unlock people’s secrets, so Liv shoved a carrot in her mouth, and then another, until it was too full to talk.

  Her friends leaned back and sipped their champagne, content to wait it out. Liv swallowed and let out a big sigh. “He dropped me off at the curb and said, ‘It was fun.’”