Page 24 of A Tempting Seduction (Protectors of Jasper Creek #5)

Suzy turned to look at me with those enormous blue eyes, then pointed directly at my face.

“Pwincess!”

Heat flooded my cheeks as I realized what she was saying.

“No, honey. I'm not a princess.”

“Pwincess!” Suzy insisted, her voice rising with determination.

“Suzy, I'm just Ruby.”

The toddler's face scrunched up with frustration at my failure to understand something so obvious. She crawled across the blanket toward me, reaching for my hair.

“Pwincess!” she repeated, tugging hard on my red braid.

“I think she's saying you look like the princess in the movie,” Ford said, his voice warm with amusement.

Suzy grinned, then clapped. “Pwincess,” she said with obvious satisfaction, then gave my braid another hard yank.

The embarrassment that had been building in my chest intensified. I'd never thought of myself as princess material. Princesses were delicate, elegant, and beautiful. They wore ball gowns and tiaras, not jeans and coffee-stained aprons.

“Suzy's exactly right,” Ford said quietly, leaning close enough that his breath tickled my ear.

The words sent shivers down my spine. Ford's voice held a note of reverence that made me believe, just for a moment, that maybe I could be someone's princess. Someone's treasure.

His treasure.

“Stop,” I whispered, my cheeks burning with embarrassment and something deeper.

“Princess Ruby,” Ford murmured, so softly that only I could hear.

My heart hammered against my ribs as Ford's hand found mine, his fingers intertwining with mine in a gesture that felt intimate despite the presence of two small children. Ford's thumb traced circles on the back of my hand, the gentle touch both soothing and electrifying.

“Uncle Ford, what's that mean when you trace on Miss Ruby's hand?” JR asked with the curiosity that made four-year-olds both adorable and dangerous.

Ford's hand stilled, and I felt his slight intake of breath.

“It means I like Ruby very much,” he said simply.

“Do you want to marry her?”

The question hung in the air like a live wire. Ford's grip on my hand tightened slightly, and I found myself holding my breath waiting for his answer.

“That's not a question for little boys to ask,” Ford said diplomatically.

“Why not?”

“Because it's a grown-up question.”

“I'm gonna be a grown-up someday.”

“When you're a grown-up, you can ask all the grown-up questions you want.”

JR seemed satisfied with this explanation and returned his attention to his cars. But the tension between Ford and me had ratcheted up several notches, the innocent question exposing feelings neither of us was quite ready to discuss.

By nine-thirty, both kids were showing signs of exhaustion. Suzy had been rubbing her eyes for the past twenty minutes, and JR's energy was starting to flag despite his best efforts to stay awake.

“Time for bed, little ones,” I announced, beginning the process of gathering scattered toys and blankets.

Ford scooped up Suzy, who didn't protest being carried to the bedroom where the playpen waited. I followed them and watched as he settled her gently into the portable crib. She was asleep before her head hit the small pillow, her tiny fist curled around the stuffed animal she'd brought from home.

JR required more negotiation. He wanted to brush his teeth, use the bathroom, have a drink of water, and hear three bedtime stories. By the time he was finally settled on my bed with his favorite blanket, it was past ten o'clock.

“Will you check on us if we have bad dreams?” he asked sleepily.

“Of course,” I promised, tucking the blanket around his small body.

“Will Uncle Ford check on us too?”

“I’ll be right here, until your mom comes and gets you.”

This assurance seemed to satisfy him. Within minutes, his breathing had evened out into the deep rhythm of sleep.

Ford and I crept out of the bedroom like parents protecting naptime, carefully closing the door behind us.

“They're incredible kids,” I said, settling onto the couch that had been restored to its normal configuration.

“They adore you.” Ford sat beside me, close enough that I could smell his soap mixed with the lingering scent of pizza and children's shampoo. “You're so natural with them.”

“I love kids. I always have.”

“Do you want children of your own someday?”

The question was casual, but I could hear the weight behind it. We were entering territory that felt significant, conversations that mattered for the future rather than just the present.

“I used to think so,” I said carefully. “When I was engaged before, we talked about having children. It seemed like the natural progression.”

“And now?”

I looked into Ford's warm brown eyes, saw genuine interest rather than judgment.

“Now I think I'd want children with the right person. Someone who'd be a true partner in raising them. Someone who'd love them as much as I would.”

“Someone who'd build blanket forts and teach them to slide down couch cushions?”

“Someone exactly like that.”

Ford's hand found mine again, and this time there were no small voices to interrupt the moment. His thumb resumed its gentle tracing pattern, sending warmth up my arm and settling in my chest.

“Ruby,” he said quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Come here.”

I shifted closer on the couch, close enough that our thighs touched, close enough to see the warmth in his brown eyes.

Ford's free hand cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing across my lower lip with devastating gentleness.

“I've been thinking about kissing you all evening.”

“Just thinking about it?”

“Trying to be good. Hard to concentrate on anything else when you're wearing that sweater.”

“What's wrong with my sweater?”

“Nothing. That's the problem.” Ford's voice had gone rough around the edges. “It's perfect. You're perfect.”

“I'm not perfect.”

“You are to me.”

Before I could protest further, Ford's mouth found mine. The kiss started gentle, almost tentative, but grew deeper as I melted against him. My hands fisted in his sweater as his tongue swept against mine. God, he tasted so good, and no it wasn’t JRs tomato.

His hands tangled in my hair, loosening my braid until the strands fell around my shoulders in waves. I made a small sound of pleasure that seemed to drive him crazy, because suddenly his mouth was on my throat, finding that sensitive spot that made my toes curl.

“Ford,” I breathed, my head falling back to give him better access.

“I know.” His voice was muffled against my skin. “I know.”

I tugged him closer, needing more contact, more connection. Ford's hands skimmed down my sides, mapping the curves hidden beneath cashmere, learning the shape of me through soft wool.

When his mouth found mine again, the kiss was different. Deeper. More demanding. Ford's tongue swept against mine with deliberate intent, and I could taste the promise of everything he wanted to give me.

My hands slipped beneath his sweater, finding warm skin and hard muscle. Ford groaned against my mouth, the sound vibrating through my chest and settling low in my belly.

“I can’t believe I’m going to be cockblocked by my niece and nephew and still enjoy the hell out of it.”

I laughed.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” I whispered.

“What?”

“You don’t have to leave after Fiona picks up the kids.”

Ford groaned again and dropped his forehead onto mine. “Yes, I do. I’m going to want to follow her to Mom and Dad’s and help her get JR and Suzy tucked into bed.”

My heart practically burst out of my chest. Could the man get any more perfect?

“Oh, then in that case, we have to break up.”

His head lifted in a split second. “What?”

“Teasing,” I grinned. “How about this? After you get all of your chicks tucked safely away, you come back here?”

Ford’s brown eyes turned almost black. “Lady, I like the way you think.”