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He laced his fingers through mine, and we walked to the door of the gym. The team’s security guard stepped out of the way for us. Ford nodded a thank you, and if the guard noticed my flush or messy hair, he didn’t let it show on his face.
The two of us went to the elevator, hand in hand. And I wondered if Ford knew what the simple contact did to my heart.
Anyone could fuck. Get a release that humans were biologically programmed to desire for the sake of our species.
Holding hands was only for people you cared for... who you loved.
We reached the door, and he held the key up to the reader until a light flicked green. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected to find when we got back to the hotel room, but it wasn’t the single king-sized bed that waited for us.
And it definitely wasn’t the dozen red roses sitting on the table. Or the platter of chocolate-covered strawberries displayed next to the bouquet.
“Ford...” I breathed, looking from the display to him.
When he’d texted me, he’d said this trip was to put on a show for everyone.
But there were no cameras waiting here.
He’d done this for me and me alone.
“Do you like them?” he asked, the trepidation clear in his voice.
I turned and answered him by kissing his lips. “They’re beautiful,” I murmured, then squeezed him, my cheek to his chest as I took them in. The lines of our arrangement had gone from fuzzy to nonexistent. I knew Ford wasn’t ready to give me a relationship, but this felt an awful lot like one.
All his muscles seemed to melt with my approval. He kissed the top of my head, then said, “I need to shower off... Care to join?”
I grinned at the thought of seeing his exquisite body again, having it all to myself. “Absolutely.”
An hour(and a few orgasms) later, we were sitting in the bed, wearing matching robes and eating chocolate-covered strawberries. It felt sofun. Something I hadn’t experienced a lot of in the last few years.
I loved my work, but it wasn’t the same as kicking back and truly enjoying someone else’s company.
Ford finished a strawberry and set the stem on the plate in front of us. “Can I ask you about something?”
I wiped a chocolate crumb from the corner of my mouth. “Yes, you can definitely eat chocolate strawberries off my naked body.”
He chuckled and said, “I’ll keep that in mind. No, it’s about... what you said earlier.”
I sent him a questioning look.
“About birth control being ‘taken care of.’” He fisted his hands in his robe pockets. “I trust you. I just wasn’t sure what that means.”
“Oh...” I set down a half-eaten strawberry, wiping my fingers on a napkin. I’d had this conversation with boyfriends before, and it had always been contentious. But I didn’t know what we were, so I wasn’t quite sure how to approach this or how hewould react. So I decided to go with the facts, plain and simple. “I had a tubal ligation done several years ago. I couldn’t get pregnant even if I wanted to.”
I watched his profile as he took in the news, his contemplative blue eyes downcast as he processed it. Finally, he said, “You don’t want children?”
I shook my head. “No, I don’t.”
I waited for the questions, for the judgement. The memory of this conversation with Christian flashed in my mind. It had been the end for us. And Ford was young, not yet thirty... Would this be the thing that kept us from more?
“I don’t want children either,” he admitted, his voice almost a whisper.
I studied him, trying to make sure I’d heard him correctly.
Then he let out a soft chuckle. “It seems heretical to say when you grew up in a family with five kids.”
I smiled. “How did you decide?”
He shifted his weight, crossing his legs and resting back against the headboard with his hands in his lap. “My mom died of cancer when I was young. I never wanted to have children and risk putting them through something like that when I know it could run in my family.”