Suddenly One Summer
Page 77
And she was all his.
He pressed his mouth to the top of her shoulder as he pushed the dress down her arms and let it fall to the floor.
“Ford,” she murmured, leaning against him.
He picked her up and carried her to the bed. After setting her down, he stripped off his clothes as she kicked off her heels and took off her bra. Then he climbed onto the bed and swept his mouth over hers in a long, possessive kiss. When his hands finally moved to her underwear, she sighed. But instead of yanking them off, he pulled them down just an inch and slowly kissed his way down to her stomach.
She groaned. “You’re driving me crazy.”
He smiled wickedly against her skin. “Better get used to it, Ms. Slade. I have two weeks’ worth of driving you crazy to make up for.”
Afterward, they lay face-to-face on their sides, looking at each other as the fading sunset cast a soft orange glow around the bedroom.
She reached out and slid her hand over his.
“Don’t even think about asking me for brownies,” he growled.
She laughed. “I was just going to say that I’m really glad those assholes broke into my town house. Because that led me to you.”
He slid a hand down her back and pulled her close once again. “You slay me, Victoria. You know that, right?”
She sunk her fingers into his hair and smiled.
“I do now.”
* * *
LATER THAT NIGHT, Ford woke up to the sound of his front door creaking shut.
He sat up and saw that the other side of the bed was empty. Frowning, he quickly threw on his jeans and went out into the living room.
No Victoria.
Then he noticed a dim sliver of light filtering in through a crack between his front door and the wall, and realized that someone had left the door propped open with the deadbolt.
Seconds later, that someone tiptoed back in, bare-legged and wearing his shirt.
Victoria smiled when she saw him standing there. “Sorry. I was trying not to wake you.” She held up a skinny travel container. “Toothbrush.”
Ford’s mouth curved. Saying nothing, he walked into the kitchen and opened one of the drawers.
She rested her hip against the counter, watching him. “You are awake, right? This isn’t some creepy sleep-walking thing, is it?”
He gave her a look as he walked over. Then he set something down on the counter in front of her.
A spare key to his place.
She smiled softly, looking down at it for a moment, and then picked it up. “Well. I guess we’d better alert the cavalcade that unit 4F is officially closed for business.”
“Had to get that in, did you?” He scooped her up as she laughed, and set her on top of the counter, liking this look of her in his shirt and not much else.
She looked again at the key in her hand. “It’s been years since I’ve had an actual boyfriend.”
That made him go soft on the inside all over again. “It’s going to be even longer before you have another one.”
Her expression turned almost shy. “This happily-ever-after stuff . . . marriage, two-point-five-kids, and the minivan . . . I never thought those things were in the cards for me. This is all very new.”
It was new for him, too, but it also felt very right. He wrapped his arms around her. “We have plenty of time to figure out those things. And we always have the frozen eggs.”
She peered up at him. “We?”
“Yes. We.” No hesitation.
“We,” she repeated, not a question this time. Then she slid her arms around his neck, her voice husky. “I like the sound of that, Ford Dixon.”
He lowered his head and kissed her, not worrying about what would happen tomorrow, or three months from now, or even thirty years down the road. All that mattered was that she would be by his side.
And that was the happiest damn ever-after of them all.
Epilogue
TWO WEEKS LATER, Victoria sat side by side with Ford, trying not to smile when she saw him run a nervous hand through his hair.
Ah, had she ever been there.
“So, this is Ford,” she told Dr. Metzel, with no small amount of isn’t-my-boyfriend-so-cute pride.
Two days ago, when she and Ford had been talking about their weekend plans, she’d offhandedly remarked that she had her therapy appointment on Saturday. Much to her surprise, he’d offered to go with her.
And then her heart had melted when she’d heard why.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ford,” Dr. Metzel said with a warm smile. “As I told Victoria on the phone, I’m happy to explore therapy options for the both of you. Normally, in circumstances like these, I’d recommend a combination of couple’s sessions and individual sessions. But let’s see how things go today, and then we can figure out a plan of attack. Okay?”
When they both nodded, the good doctor picked up his pen. “I think we should start with you, Ford. What is it that you would like to accomplish in these sessions?”
“Wow.” Ford exhaled, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “We’re just diving right in with that one, are we?”
Victoria patted his knee. “It’s okay, babe. He already knows you have issues, too.”
“Right.” He held out his hands, going for a joke. “I guess Dad didn’t play enough catch with me growing up.”
Victoria turned to Dr. Metzel. “Clearly, he’s going to have to dig a little deeper.”
Ford shot her a look. “Smart-ass.” But when they shared a smile, he eased back in his chair, seemingly more relaxed.
Dr. Metzel pointed between them with his pen. “Ah. I see how this works.” He began scribbling in his notepad.
Ford glanced sideways at Victoria, speaking under his breath. “Does he always write everything down?”
“You get used to it after a while,” she whispered back.
Dr. Metzel looked up and folded his hands on his lap. “So, Ford. You were about to say what you would like to accomplish in these therapy sessions.”
“Well . . . I think we all can agree that Victoria and I aren’t the best at letting down our guards. A few weeks ago, after her panic attack, both of us held back instead of opening up and we nearly lost each other because of that.” He looked at her, his blue eyes holding hers meaningfully. “And I think, basically, we both know that this is a really good thing, and don’t ever want to be in a place where that happens again.”
He pressed his mouth to the top of her shoulder as he pushed the dress down her arms and let it fall to the floor.
“Ford,” she murmured, leaning against him.
He picked her up and carried her to the bed. After setting her down, he stripped off his clothes as she kicked off her heels and took off her bra. Then he climbed onto the bed and swept his mouth over hers in a long, possessive kiss. When his hands finally moved to her underwear, she sighed. But instead of yanking them off, he pulled them down just an inch and slowly kissed his way down to her stomach.
She groaned. “You’re driving me crazy.”
He smiled wickedly against her skin. “Better get used to it, Ms. Slade. I have two weeks’ worth of driving you crazy to make up for.”
Afterward, they lay face-to-face on their sides, looking at each other as the fading sunset cast a soft orange glow around the bedroom.
She reached out and slid her hand over his.
“Don’t even think about asking me for brownies,” he growled.
She laughed. “I was just going to say that I’m really glad those assholes broke into my town house. Because that led me to you.”
He slid a hand down her back and pulled her close once again. “You slay me, Victoria. You know that, right?”
She sunk her fingers into his hair and smiled.
“I do now.”
* * *
LATER THAT NIGHT, Ford woke up to the sound of his front door creaking shut.
He sat up and saw that the other side of the bed was empty. Frowning, he quickly threw on his jeans and went out into the living room.
No Victoria.
Then he noticed a dim sliver of light filtering in through a crack between his front door and the wall, and realized that someone had left the door propped open with the deadbolt.
Seconds later, that someone tiptoed back in, bare-legged and wearing his shirt.
Victoria smiled when she saw him standing there. “Sorry. I was trying not to wake you.” She held up a skinny travel container. “Toothbrush.”
Ford’s mouth curved. Saying nothing, he walked into the kitchen and opened one of the drawers.
She rested her hip against the counter, watching him. “You are awake, right? This isn’t some creepy sleep-walking thing, is it?”
He gave her a look as he walked over. Then he set something down on the counter in front of her.
A spare key to his place.
She smiled softly, looking down at it for a moment, and then picked it up. “Well. I guess we’d better alert the cavalcade that unit 4F is officially closed for business.”
“Had to get that in, did you?” He scooped her up as she laughed, and set her on top of the counter, liking this look of her in his shirt and not much else.
She looked again at the key in her hand. “It’s been years since I’ve had an actual boyfriend.”
That made him go soft on the inside all over again. “It’s going to be even longer before you have another one.”
Her expression turned almost shy. “This happily-ever-after stuff . . . marriage, two-point-five-kids, and the minivan . . . I never thought those things were in the cards for me. This is all very new.”
It was new for him, too, but it also felt very right. He wrapped his arms around her. “We have plenty of time to figure out those things. And we always have the frozen eggs.”
She peered up at him. “We?”
“Yes. We.” No hesitation.
“We,” she repeated, not a question this time. Then she slid her arms around his neck, her voice husky. “I like the sound of that, Ford Dixon.”
He lowered his head and kissed her, not worrying about what would happen tomorrow, or three months from now, or even thirty years down the road. All that mattered was that she would be by his side.
And that was the happiest damn ever-after of them all.
Epilogue
TWO WEEKS LATER, Victoria sat side by side with Ford, trying not to smile when she saw him run a nervous hand through his hair.
Ah, had she ever been there.
“So, this is Ford,” she told Dr. Metzel, with no small amount of isn’t-my-boyfriend-so-cute pride.
Two days ago, when she and Ford had been talking about their weekend plans, she’d offhandedly remarked that she had her therapy appointment on Saturday. Much to her surprise, he’d offered to go with her.
And then her heart had melted when she’d heard why.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ford,” Dr. Metzel said with a warm smile. “As I told Victoria on the phone, I’m happy to explore therapy options for the both of you. Normally, in circumstances like these, I’d recommend a combination of couple’s sessions and individual sessions. But let’s see how things go today, and then we can figure out a plan of attack. Okay?”
When they both nodded, the good doctor picked up his pen. “I think we should start with you, Ford. What is it that you would like to accomplish in these sessions?”
“Wow.” Ford exhaled, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “We’re just diving right in with that one, are we?”
Victoria patted his knee. “It’s okay, babe. He already knows you have issues, too.”
“Right.” He held out his hands, going for a joke. “I guess Dad didn’t play enough catch with me growing up.”
Victoria turned to Dr. Metzel. “Clearly, he’s going to have to dig a little deeper.”
Ford shot her a look. “Smart-ass.” But when they shared a smile, he eased back in his chair, seemingly more relaxed.
Dr. Metzel pointed between them with his pen. “Ah. I see how this works.” He began scribbling in his notepad.
Ford glanced sideways at Victoria, speaking under his breath. “Does he always write everything down?”
“You get used to it after a while,” she whispered back.
Dr. Metzel looked up and folded his hands on his lap. “So, Ford. You were about to say what you would like to accomplish in these therapy sessions.”
“Well . . . I think we all can agree that Victoria and I aren’t the best at letting down our guards. A few weeks ago, after her panic attack, both of us held back instead of opening up and we nearly lost each other because of that.” He looked at her, his blue eyes holding hers meaningfully. “And I think, basically, we both know that this is a really good thing, and don’t ever want to be in a place where that happens again.”
