By less than a heartbeat, his mouth beat hers to the kiss that she’d been aching for since the wedding. At the winery in Napa his kisses had been gentle, almost reverent, as he’d roamed her skin. But nothing was soft about the way they devoured each other now, her teeth making hard nips against his lower lip, his tongue tangling with hers in a rough dance of pure lust. His hands covering every inch of her that he could reach, from br**sts to hips, hers tightly gripping the dark strands of his hair to keep his mouth right where she wanted it.
Moans, gasps, pleasure, pain—Mia relished every single second of feeling again. Even though, as both of them continued to drag each other deeper into burning heat and desperate need, somewhere way back in her brain, a warning flag was waving, trying to tell her that this was a bad idea.
Oh yes, she knew that what they were doing was a terrible idea, knew that she shouldn’t be giving this much to Ford, shouldn’t be giving him any part of her at all when he’d hurt her so badly once before. But right now, knowing better was taking a distant backseat to the sinful pleasure of arching into his large hands as they cupped her br**sts through her silk shirt.
The shrill ringing of her assistant’s phone only one wall away hit her like an ice-cold bucket of water.
It wasn’t just a bad idea to be kissing Ford because he had the power to hurt her in a way no one else did—but also because they were in her office and her employees were going to start coming through the front door any second now.
Was she trying to get caught with him?
Her heart was scrambling as she let him go and stood on her own, on legs that threatened to tremble like a bowl of Jell-O.
“We’ve built up sleeping together again to be too big, too important. As far as I’m concerned, the best thing we can do is get this out of our systems so that we can both move on with our lives.”
“Once I have you again, Mia, I won’t ever get you out of my system. And I won’t give you up. Not to some other guy you meet jogging or on a plane, who doesn’t deserve you.”
Desperately fighting against the part of her that wanted to belong to Ford and believe that it was possible to have a forever with him, she said, “You say you want more than my body, but then you talk about me like I’m some toy you can be jealous and possessive over.”
“Damn it, you’re right.” She watched him run a harsh hand through his dark hair as he paced her office like a lion trapped in a cage. “I’m saying everything wrong. Doing every goddamned thing wrong.”
Was it crazy that a part of her wanted to go to him, to comfort him?
Yes, this Ford-inspired crazy was precisely why she’d suggested a casual, sex-only relationship. Because that way they could focus on their bodies and pleasure...and things like comfort and support—and emotions that could be stripped raw and utterly destroyed—wouldn’t be on the table at all.
* * *
“Five years ago, even though I was an immature punk who didn’t know which way was up, I was smart enough to love you. How could I not?” Ford paused to make sure he didn’t say it all wrong again. “But after we split up, I spent way too long pretending I could be a man on an island again. That I wasn’t thinking of you every second we were apart.”
“Ford—”
“Let me try to get at least one thing right.” He moved back across her office to reach for her hands. “After seeing the way Nicola and Marcus are with each other, I think I finally figured something out. Something big that we skipped in our week together. Something between sex and love that holds everything together.” He looked down at where their fingers had naturally threaded together, then back up into her beautiful eyes. “Every second since I saw you again, I’ve been consumed with wanting you. But sex isn’t enough, Mia. It wasn’t enough the first time around, and it won’t be this time, either.”
“But what—”
“Friends.” He knew the truth of it in his bones and could see from the look on her face that it was resonating with her, too. “I need to be your friend this time. And I hope you’ll eventually be able to trust me enough to be mine, too.”
He’d written more than a dozen love songs, but he’d never truly understood until he’d fallen in love with Mia just how complicated it really was. Or how incredible is was that somehow, if two people with their own dreams and damage, hopes and fears, worked really hard and were really lucky, they might actually make it work.
At the same time, over and over during the past thirty-six hours, he’d reminded himself that complicated didn’t have to mean impossible. Look at Ryan Sullivan and his fiancée, Vicki, who had made things work after fifteen years apart. And, of course, there was Marcus and Nicola, who hadn’t let his winery or her music career tear them apart.
“I told you this weekend that I forgave you, Ford, and I meant it, but—”
Before she could say anything else, both of them heard two voices carry down to her office.
Still, instead of immediately dropping his hands, he felt the lightest brush of her thumbs over his knuckles before she let him go and walked over to her desk to sit down behind her computer. It gave him hope that she wasn’t unaffected by what he’d just said about wanting to be her friend. The best one she’d ever have.
“Over the weekend,” she told him as she slipped on thick, black-framed glasses that only served to highlight her beauty, “there was a great deal of interest in the tower house. Since I’m not at all surprised by this, and I know that Alana and her ex-husband would like to close things as quickly as possible, we should finalize the details of your offer so that we can send them over this morning.” She pressed a button on her phone. “Good morning, Orlando. I’d like to introduce you to my new client. And please bring the paperwork for the tower house with you.”
Though her manner was all business, he could still see the heat and desire—along with her lingering surprise over the idea of the two of them working on their friendship before hopping back into bed with each other—simmering just beneath the surface.
“My employees are used to dealing with famous and wealthy clients. But just like the guests at Marcus and Nicola’s wedding, I suspect they still might be a little bowled over by you.”
“I’m always happy to meet fans. They’re the reason I’m where I am.”
“No,” he was surprised to hear her say in a fervent voice, “your talent is the reason you’re where you are. Like I said,” she added with a small smile, “even those of us who couldn’t stand you still liked your songs.”