Ford

by Flora Madison

  Ford

  Wild County Curves: Book 2

  Flora Madison

  Copyright © 2020 by Flora Madison

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  **Edited by: Geeky Girl Author Services

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Epilogue

  Also by Flora Madison

  1

  Ford

  I never believed in love at first sight until the tiny bungalow’s front door swings open, and I find myself locked into the most hypnotizing pair of hazel eyes I’ve ever seen. For a moment I think I have the wrong house. My dress shoes scuff against the concrete front porch as I rear back to double check the address, but I’m in the right spot. The gorgeous angel of a woman turns her full lips into a sensual smile. Her shiny chestnut hair hangs in wavy locks, brushing against her sun kissed shoulders. A simple black dress hugs her in all the right places. Returning my gaze back to the curvy brunette, I say a quick and silent prayer.

  Please, please, please…don’t let this goddess be my late best friend’s daughter.

  “Hello.” Her low, silky smooth voice sends shivers straight through me. Are you here for the reception?

  I will my heartbeat to steady itself. “I am.” When I extend my hand, the woman slips her soft fingers between my palm. “I’m Ford Carter.”

  Her eyes light up. “You’re Ford?” She removes her hand from mine, flinging it toward her chest. A gigantic smile spreads across her sweet face. “I’ve heard so much about you.” She steps aside, holding the door wide for me. “Please, come in. I’m Kenzie. Ray is … was my dad.”

  That settles it. This is Kenzie. This is who I’ve promised to look after.Kenzie steps aside, making room for me as I enter the foyer. The low hum of visitors echoes around me. The comforting aroma of various casseroles fills the air and my stomach turns. I haven’t eaten since I left town this morning, and now, here I am. A jittery vibe starts at the tip of my dress shoes and courses its way all the way up my spine. Kenzie Sawyer is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life, and she’s strictly off limits.

  “I don’t remember seeing you at the funeral.” Kenzie leads me into the front room where mourners gather in small groups holding plates filled with church basements’ finest fare.

  “That’s because I didn’t make it to the funeral. I hit horrible traffic.” I turn to her as she licks her glossy pink lips. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you, Ford.” Without a second thought, she wraps her arms around me and pulls me in for a hug. “He was sick for a long time. But you already know that.” Her jasmine perfume and coconut shampoo ignite my senses, and I have to pull away so my physical reaction to her doesn’t embarrass us both.

  I clear my throat and take a step back, keeping her at a safe distance. “I know that he was fighting the disease with all the energy he had left.”

  “Reconnecting with you, his old college bestie, was one of the highlights of this past year. He loved you lots.”

  My brain swims with images of our old fraternity days. We were so young and thought we were invincible, that we’d live forever. Probably only about as old as Kenzie is now.

  “I loved him back,” I say.

  “I know.” Kenzie presses her fingertips to her red rimmed eyes, an attempt to stop the tears.

  I want to comfort her, to pull her close to me and tell her that I’ve made a promise to him that I will look out for her and make sure she lands on her feet, no matter what. Because I did love her father. I loved Ray so much that after years of not speaking, after going our separate ways—me to fulfill my dream of being an architect, and him down a never-ending spiral of drug and gambling abuse, I’d jumped for joy when he called and said he was clean. He wanted to make amends, and dammit if we didn’t end up on the phone once a week for the past year catching up and recounting the past.

  I had no idea that the woman I’m supposed to be looking after would take my breath away like this.

  “I’m so glad you two could be friends again.” Her crooked half smile lights up the room. Everything about this woman is perfect. Kenzie’s eyes focus on someone standing behind me. I turn around to find an older gentleman in a suit. “Why don’t you go and make yourself a plate? I’ll catch up with you in a bit.” Her fingers graze my arm as she steps past me, heading in his direction.

  My eyes remain locked on her. The natural sway of her hips. The way the sunlight catches her hair as she passes the window. How her shoulders rise when she begins talking to that guy.

  Who is that guy?

  Kenzie wraps one arm around her stomach, nods, and holds her hand out toward the side. The older man walks in front of her and they disappear out of sight. With my curiosity peaked and my hackles rising, I follow them but remain hidden, remaining in the door to the kitchen where they both stop and begin their conversation.

  I can just make out parts of it.

  “I swear, I thought it was taken care of.” Kenzie shakes her head, her voice sharp.

  “There’s an outstanding balance of six-thousand dollars.” The man’s palms turn upward. “And Miss Sawyer, I truly hate having to do this at such an inopportune time for you, but you left the service so quickly that I couldn’t stop you. The balance needs to be paid today.”

  Kenzie’s mouth bobs open and closed, wordless. I knew that Ray never quite got on his feet financially, but I had no idea he would leave his daughter indebted with his funeral bills. Before thinking better of it, I march into the kitchen. With my hand extended, I approach the man.

  “I’m Ford Carter.”

  Hesitantly, he accepts my handshake. “George Fallwell, Fallwell Mortuary Services.”

  “Mr. Fallwell, you can bill me for the remainder of the funeral costs.”

  “What?” Kenzie’s head snaps in my direction. “No, that’s not necessary.”

  “Of course it is. I forgot to tell you that I promised your father I’d take care of it. The paperwork must’ve gotten lost in the shuffle,” I lie.

  Kenzie angles her body toward me, and whispers. “Ford, it’s six-thousand dollars.”

  I lean down, taking a whiff of her glorious scent. “Kenzie, I’ve got it.” She opens her mouth to object once more, but I’m not having it. I hand my business card to Mr. Fallwell, who happily takes it. “Send the invoice to this email address and my assistant will pay it today.”

  After the briefest moment of hesitation, Mr. Fallwell nods and makes his way out of the kitchen, stopping to grab something from the food table on his way out. When I turn to Kenzie, the look on her face melts my heart.

  Kenzie crosses her arms. “Why did you do that?” I open my mouth to explain that I’ve made a promise to her father, my best friend, but I don’t have the chance. “I’m a big girl, Ford. I can take care of myself.”

  With that she storms out of the kitchen without so much as a thank you.

  2

  Kenzie

  My body shakes with every step I take. I don’t know if I’m mostly offended by the balls on this guy, sweeping in here and trying to play hero, or that it’s undeniable that he’s th
e most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in my whole life.

  I don’t care how handsome he is, in his overpriced suit. With his perfectly messy silver hair, and muscles that would make a gym rat balk with envy. I don’t need a savior. I’ve been taking care of myself for as long as I can remember, and I’m not about to start blindly relying on somebody now.

  I close my bedroom door behind me and press my back up against it. The window unit blows a cool stream of air against my forehead, already beaded with sweat. I practice the breathing technique I learned in therapy. Years of having an addict for a father left me with a hefty case of anxiety. It’s been difficult enough being here around all of these people today, but stressful situations send my blood pressure skyrocketing. I’m only nineteen years old for God’s sake, way too young to be worrying about such things.

  When I finally open my eyes, I take in the moving boxes strewn all over the room. Leaving me with the cost of the funeral wasn’t enough for old Ray Sawyer. Sawyer the Swindler I later found out was his nickname in the late nineties. No, he had to fall so behind on loan payments that the bank has already repossessed the nicest house we’ve ever had. Talk about a stand up guy. I sit on the edge of my bed and grab my stuffed polar bear, Tippy, and hug him close to my chest.

  It’s all I can do to not bash my dad’s dumb ass in front of Ford. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, and it’s clear that my father’s motives for reconnecting with Ford carried more strategy behind it than just patching old wounds. Clearly, Ford is a wealthy man. I’m certain my father knew that. But Ford doesn’t and this isn’t his fault, I have to remind myself. He has no idea how bad it’s been for me, relying on an adult who was never there for me. Watching my father beg and steal to get what he wants in this world, completely unable to stand on his own.

  “Six thousand bucks.” I press Tippy to my lips and take in his old, comfortable scent. “I should probably at least tell him thank you, huh?” In my head Tippy answers with a resounding yes. “Fine,” I say, and I’m about to swallow my pride and do just that when there’s a knock on my door.

  I toss the stuffed polar back onto my pillows, heading to my bedroom door before whoever’s on the other side has a chance to open it. I’m two steps away when the door creaks open. Ford pokes his head inside. His bright blue eyes scan the room. “Kenzie?”

  I wince. “Don’t come in.” But it’s too late. His eyes land on the moving boxes.

  “Are you planning on going somewhere?” Without being asked, he steps into the room bringing his clean, sandalwood scent with him. He towers over me, thick and tall like a strong oak tree. Immediately my panties grow soaked.

  “It’s nothing—I just—I…” I don’t have an answer for him. “Fuck.” My body sinks to the bed once more. I press my face into my hands to hide the tears springing to my eyes.

  “Kenzie.” Ford sits next to me on the bed. “Tell me what’s going on.” I shake my head. His big, warm hands gently pull my fingers away from my face. “Right now.”

  “Can’t I cry on the day of my own father’s funeral?” My tone is sharp.

  Ford narrows his eyes. With some sort of emotional x-ray vision, he sees right through my façade. “I guess it’s only fair that if I expect you to tell me what’s going on, I should be straight with you, too.” I sniffle back tears, suddenly all ears. “I’m not just here because I was your father’s best friend.”

  “No?” Ford reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handkerchief that smells just like him. I press it against my wet cheeks, careful not to get snot all over it.

  “Before he died, he asked me to take care of you.”

  “What?” My head snaps to attention causing me to nearly drop the hanky. “Take care of me? What for?” It’s not like my father ever did.

  Ford looks around the room, eyeing the boxes. “Why don’t you tell me?” When he meets my eyes, all of the fight leaves me. His strong jaw looks like it was chiseled from marble, highlighting his five o’clock shadow. He’s the kind of man I want to take me into his strong arms, and tell me that everything’s going to be okay. I want to press my cheek up against his chiseled chest and let him hold me. Press my lips against his, until his hot tongue thrusts up against my own.

  Oh my God, Kenzie, get a grip.

  “The bank took the house.” I sniff, attempting to pull myself together. “I have to be out by the beginning of next week.”

  “Oh, Kenzie.” He says through a gruff voice, and rests his hand on my knee causing an invisible trail of heat to jolt straight up my thigh and slam into my center. I nearly gasp. “I had no idea he left you like this.” He clenches his jaw. “Do you have a game plan?”

  “If working part time at the bookstore for minimum wage and couch surfing counts as a plan, that’s it.”

  “Absolutely not, Kenzie.” He pulls his hand away from my knee. “That’s not happening.”

  “Oh no? Are you going to buy me a house Mr. Moneybags?” I’m joking when I say it, but part of me wishes that was the case.

  “No.” He says, bursting my bubble. “But you’re coming with me.”

  A laugh escapes my mouth. The nerve of this one. “And just where might that be?”

  “Wild County. I have a guest house on my property. I can find you a job in town that pays way above minimum wage.”

  My heart twinges at the thought of being able to start over. But my gut nags me in the opposite direction. I’ve always pictured my big starting over moment alone, not relying on anyone. My teeth gnash into my bottom lip. It’s undeniable that this sounds perfect. Ford must realize this too as his lips spread into a sexy half-grin. “I’m not asking you, Kenzie. I’m telling you. You’re coming with me, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

  Chapter 3: Ford

  I glance out the kitchen window into my backyard. Kenzie lounges poolside in a cherry red bikini, a book in her hands. Having the stunning beauty living in my pool house hasn’t been easy. Not that she isn’t a great houseguest. She’s tidy, shares coffee with me in the morning, and even found her own job at the Wild County Public Library. It’s more about the fact that it’s getting harder and harder to control myself around her.

  She rolls over onto her stomach, revealing her round bottom with marks from the pool chair embedded into her skin. I lick my lips and make myself step away from the window. The last thing I need is for her to see me creeping on her like some kind of sick, peeping Tom. But damn I can’t get her out of my mind, and drinking in her soft, sexy curves from a

  3

  Ford

  I glance out the kitchen window into my backyard. Kenzie lounges poolside in a cherry red bikini, a book in her hands. Having the stunning beauty living in my pool house hasn’t been easy. Not that she isn’t a great houseguest. She’s tidy, shares coffee with me in the morning, and even found her own job at the Wild County Public Library. It’s more about the fact that it’s getting harder and harder to control myself around her.

  She rolls over onto her stomach, revealing her round bottom with marks from the pool chair embedded into her skin. I lick my lips and make myself step away from the window. The last thing I need is for her to see me creeping on her like some kind of sick, peeping Tom. But damn I can’t get her out of my mind, and drinking in her soft, sexy curves from a distance helps stop me from pulling her to me and devouring every inch of her with my mouth.

  But I made a promise to her father. It would be dishonorable to do the things to her that I’ve been dreaming of doing. So I step away from the window, rock hard and aching.

  It’s hard to get any work done with Kenzie so close. Every ounce of my energy is spent convincing myself that there’s nothing between us, but it’s getting harder and harder to deny the connection. For the past two weeks I’ve felt more engaged in life than I have in the past two years.

  I turn on my laptop and review this quarter’s upcoming projects. It comes as no surprise that my head is definitely elsewhere. I close my eyes and let my imagination take over, picturing a d
ripping wet Kenzie standing before me, slowly peeling off her bikini. I bite my bottom lip as my length presses firmly against my zipper.

  She slowly unhooks her bikini, revealing large breasts that bob against her rib cage. I suck in a tight breath and unzip my pants. Then I grip myself, starting with a slow, easy motion as imaginary Kenzie pulls her bottoms down and kicks them to the side.

  I’m lost, fisting myself as I imagine her laying down and spreading for me, showing me her pretty pink center. She rubs herself, glistening wet and ready. That’s all it takes. I’m a goner. Pearly white liquid beads over my knuckles, and I don’t stop until every ounce is drained from me.

  I sit there at my desk until my heart rate returns to normal, then clean myself up and head to the bathroom. Washing my hands, I can’t help but feel a pang of guilt. Then, I remind myself that this is the safest remedy for the feelings I have for Kenzie. Besides, I’m old enough to be her father. Maybe this is just some kind of fantasy. At the end of the day, she may not even feel the same way about me that I do about her.

  When I head into the kitchen, Kenzie’s standing at the island. Although a towel is wrapped around her waist, droplets of water line the floor underneath her. My body tightens, and my fantasy comes streaming back.

  “I’m sorry,” she says, covering her mouth with her hand. “I’m all wet.”

  Lord, have mercy.

  “I don’t mind.” Her eyes flicker up to mine and the air thickens between us. A tiny smile lifts one side of her full mouth.

  “I thought you were working today?”

  Kenzie sidles up to the table. “Memorizing my schedule, are you?” I open my mouth to object but Kenzie’s sweet laugh stops me. “I’m joking, Ford. Lighten up. You seem a little tense.”