Page 41

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

FORD

Dread consumes every inch of my body as I wait for the elevator to deliver me to the seventeenth floor. Thoughts of what I’m going to find sprint through my mind like a marathon runner.

Has she seen the article yet?

Is she freaking out?

What if she wants to leave over this?

She claimed me as her family in the cemetery. And I’ve claimed her as so much more since then. She wouldn’t just throw that away, would she?

Fuck.

I rub my sternum with a shaky hand. It does nothing to alleviate the weight that’s settled there or the way my heart thunders against my ribcage.

Logic tells me I’m on the cusp of a panic attack, but I won’t let myself go there.

I can’t.

Juliet needs me.

I need to fix this.

I couldn’t care less what The Foul Line says about me, but when it comes to Juliet, I won’t stand for anything less than the truth. And even then, to the public, the truth will look like I swooped in as soon as Tyler died and stole his wife.

Which maybe I did. But that was never my intention.

I just wanted her to be safe.To be happy.

But I’m not upset by what has happened. Not by a long shot. Juliet is the sun I didn’t know I’d been missing, living in a world of gray.

I can’t go back to dismal, depressing words on my baseline.

Then again, if she asked me to, I would.

Where I’m used to being in the spotlight, Juliet isn’t. First hidden away by Tyler, and then choosing to do so to protect her family. She’s been in a constant state of trying to survive. But of course, the headlines won’t say anything about that.

If she wanted to walk away, I’d let her.

Right ?

Unease fills me, and the tendrils of the lie tease at my heart.

Fuck. Who am I? Of course I would let her go. I’m not her keeper.

But I want her to stay.

No, I want her to choose to stay. That’s not the same thing.

Ending the existential war between my heart and mind, I whip out my phone, almost dropping it as I do,and shoot a quick message to Max, sending him the link and letting him know he’s got a fire to put out.

The distraction isn’t enough though

There isn’t enough air to force into my lungs, but I try anyway. I need to be the essence of calm—like I’m about to step on the field for nine innings. Juliet needs me to be her anchor.

I focus on that as I breathe.

In for two.

Out for two.

In for three.

Out for three.

In for four.

Out for four.

I’ve made it to ten by the time I reach the door to my apartment, but the uneasiness that fills me still hasn’t lifted.

Another two minutes of stalling and breathing pass before I finally work up the nerve to grip the knob and swing the door open.

My mouth immediately gapes.

I’m not prepared for what I find.

The apartment is…

Fuck, it’s magical.

Tiny little electric candles cover every surface, softly flickering and sending light bouncing off the walls. In the living room area, the coffee table has been pushed to the side and replaced with mounds of pillows and blankets. A small projector paints the ceiling with a slow-moving portrait of the milky way. It reminds me of the night spent in the back of my dad’s truck looking up at the stars.

Don’t Stop Believing echoes quietly from the record player, and there in the middle of it all, setting the table with what looks like a s’mores bar is Juliet. Her shirt dances along the hem of her shorts, revealing a line of beautiful tan skin as she sways her hips to the beat of the music. She looks like a fucking angel bathed in the dancing lights of the candles.

It’s at that exact moment I know three things.

I’m royally fucked.

She has no idea about the article.

And everything in me doesn’t want to ruin whatever moment she has planned for us.

Never mind.

I know one more thing too.

I’m a selfish prick who wants just one more night with her before everything goes to shit.

The door clicks shut behind me, and my moment of voyeurism ends when Juliet spins on her heel to face me.

“You’re here.” She’s quick on her feet and closes the space between us in seconds, wrapping her arms around me.

This.

This is all I need.

Fuck what the press will say. These moments will be enough to see us through.

I press my nose into her hair and inhale the citrus smell of her shampoo. “I’m here.”

Juliet pulls back and glances around the apartment, pride gleaming in her eyes. “What do you think?”

“It’s definitely not my kind of organized chaos, but I think I can get behind a cuddle puddle in the pillows.” I playfully twist a strand of hair around my finger. “Though I don’t think the candles are going to survive with Lodhi around.”

She rolls her eyes at my slight against her cat. “That’s why I went with plastic.”

“Can I ask what the occasion is?”

“It’s our third date.”

“You—you planned this? For me?” I’m floored. I’ve never had a woman show up for me. Not like this.

She nods and I drink in the confidence she’s radiating. She’s come so far since she stumbled into this apartment and took her clothes off to clean.

“I figured you planned the first two, and dating is fifty-fifty, so it was my turn.”

“Taking initiative. I like that.” She beams at my praise and I lean in and press a chaste kiss to her lips, needing to feel them against mine if only for a moment. Then I whisper against them, “But you got one thing wrong.”

Juliet arches to see my face and study it with absolute dismay. “What’s that?”

“Dating is one-hundred, one-hundred. And any man not giving you that kind of percentage isn’t worth your time.”

“And are you that kind of man?” She echoes the same sentiments as she did after the D&D game.

I cock a brow, even though my insides are buzzing. “Are you ready to have that conversation?”

“Maybe later. I have other plans for us first.” She untangles herself from my arms and heads for the center of the room where she can give me the grand tour.

“Do you now? And what would that include?” I follow behind, her absolutely willing participant.

“Food—” She lifts her hand toward the table. “Well, dessert. I wasn’t planning on you going out after the hearing, but I understand why you did.”

“I would have come home.”

She waves her hand away. “No, it’s fine.”

“Juliet. If you have something planned, let me know. One hundred, one hundred, remember? I could have easily come home sooner if I had known you had all this set up for us.” Her brow tightens for a moment, then softens, and I wish I could be a fly on the wall in that brain of hers. I take a step forward and survey the table. She’s got every type of chocolate and marshmallow imaginable. “That being said, I'm not terribly hungry for a full meal.”

“I figured, which is why I shifted gears, and we’ve got a s'mores bar for dessert.”

I look over my shoulder and smirk. “Did Soph tell you s’mores were my favorite?”

“She might have mentioned it. And I made gluten-free graham crackers that surprisingly don’t taste like cardboard.” A delicate pink creeps over her cheeks as she looks away to hide her thoughtfulness.

Well, that just won’t do.

I eat the space between us in three steps and lift her chin with my thumb and forefinger. “You’ve thought of everything.”

Her eyes dart anywhere but where mine are and I get the feeling, that even though I’ve done nothing but praise her since finding her, this is different. She’s putting herself out there. It’s intimate. Vulnerable.

God, I am so fucking proud of her.

“And tell me, love. What comes after dessert?”

“Presents,” she whispers.

“You got me something?” Shock laces my words. It’s been a long time since someone has gone out of their way to get something for me. Sure, Soph remembers birthdays, and the guys got me a naked cleaning lady—which was just as much for them as it was for me—but overall, random gifts are not a common occurrence. Not since my mom passed.

Juliet steps back and reaches behind the couch, pulling out a little black gift bag that has bright orange tissue paper sticking out of it.

Fuck, it’s even the colors of the Renegades.

The attention to detail she’s put into this date floors me.

And then, just as quickly, guilt wracks me to my core.

I can’t do this. I can’t let her take care of me and plan this whole night under the pretense that outside these four walls, our happiness isn’t under attack.

“Ford?” She steps forward and grabs my forearm.

My eyes meet hers, full of warring apprehension and desire. “Juliet, I think we should talk.”

Her lips pull into a tight smile, and she gives a curt shake of her head. “I already know about it.”

“You do?”

She nods. “Paige sent me the article the second she saw it.”

Dropping her hand, she turns and sets the present on the back of the couch, running her hands over the soft blanket draped over the top.

“And?” My question is one word, filled with as much hope as it is dread.

“I didn’t read it.”

“You didn’t?” I don’t understand.

“Nope.” She spins around and clasps her hands matter-of-factly in front of her stomach. “I’ve decided we’re not going to think about it tonight.”

My brows reach my hairline. “We’re not?”

How the hell are we supposed to manage that? I know selfishly I said that’s exactly what I wanted—one more night—but there’s no way the weight of the article won’t creep in. I didn’t even last ten fucking minutes before circling back to the worry coiling in my chest.

Juliet lifts her chin and straightens her spine. “I’ve been excited about tonight all week. I’ve prepped and planned. Showered and shaved. And while doing all that, I’ve thought long and hard about everything that’s happened between us since you came into my life.”

“And?”

“I realized, I owe it to you and myself to see our third date through before I read that article and let reality come crashing in.”

Frustration edges my tone. “But reality is?—”

“Not where we’ve been living.” She pauses, and when she speaks again, there’s whimsy and hope in her voice. “There’s something about the Row. About this team. Time stops here. Or at least it has for me. It’s shown me what true friendships look like, with a side of family and baseball. It would be so easy to let ourselves live in this space forever. But that’s not real—the article is—and we need to decide if we want to take this from Row to reality.” Juliet steps forward and takes my hands. Her touch is electric as she gives them a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “But not tonight. Tonight, I only want it to be you and me and these four walls. Preferably with as little clothing as possible. Then tomorrow morning we can have all the grown-up conversations.”

Stunned doesn’t even begin to describe the feeling bubbling in me.

Who is this woman? Because I know she’s not the one who walked into my apartment all those weeks ago. That woman would have pushed me away and ran. But this woman in front of me? She’s a force to be reckoned with.

I swallow hard past the emotion in my throat and smile so she can’t see me blink away the tears that burn at the corner of my eyes. “You can’t say that to me and then expect me to eat dessert like you didn’t just tell me you want to fuck me senseless.”

Juliet grins. “What if I said there’s the option of using me as a plate?”

Fuck, she’s perfect.

“I’m listening.”

She drops my hands again—something I wish she’d stop doing—and grabs my gift from the couch. “Open it.”

An easy smile tips my lips as I pull the tissue paper out and a smaller velvet bag falls into my hand. It looks suspiciously like the same bag I gave Juliet her rose quartz dice in and given the clacking that sounds when I give it a shake, I’d say she’s repaid the favor.

“Dice?”

“Take a look.”

Pulling open the drawstring, I tip the bag and two black dice with bronze writing fall into my palm. One has six sides, while the other has ten. Only there aren’t numbers on those sides. There are words.

I pick up the first one and examine it.

Lick.

Stroke.

Suck.

Kiss.

Blow.

You choose.

Fuck me. They’re sex dice.

I’m almost afraid to, but I pick up the next one.

Lips.

Neck.

Inner Thigh.

Below Navel.

Ears.

Nipples.

Fingers.

Ass.

XXX.

You choose.

She’s trying to kill me.

All the blood that pumped through my heart in anxiety before has migrated south and straight to my dick.

“Yup.” I swallow hard, like my life depends on it. “You definitely can’t give me these and expect me to be okay with just dessert.”

She looks up at me and bats her lashes like she’s the picture of innocence. “You like them?”

“Juliet, you took notice of my little dice goblin heart and turned it into a sex game. I fucking love them.”

And you. Fuck reality. Marry me now.

She smiles wider than I’ve ever seen—all teeth and between lips I know taste like strawberries. “Then you’ll play with me?”

Forever? Absolutely.

“Have you eaten?” I ask, silently willing the blood in my painfully hard dick to cease its throbbing long enough for me to make sure she’s not going to pass out when I get my hands on her.

Juliet laughs, probably because she knows exactly what I’m doing. “I had some of the lasagna I made before I put it away and opted to move up dessert.”

“There are leftovers?”

She rolls her eyes. “Yes, Hulk. I packed it so you could take it with you tomorrow.”

“You’re a goddess.” She knows I would rather have her cooking than whatever the nutritionist has planned for us in on the road. “Now go grab the dice box from the D&D cart. I’m going to get out of this suit. I expect you to be in your bra and panties when I get back.”

“Yes, sir.” She gives me a mock salute, and if my dick wasn’t already standing at attention, it would be.

I’m gone for five minutes, tops, when I return in nothing but my boxer briefs. Juliet is sitting in the middle of the pillow pile in nothing but a matching black lace bra and thong panty set. She’s rolling the dice over and over in the small wooden box I asked her to grab, quietly giggling to herself each time a new set of actions appears.

It’s fucking adorable.

“You ready, love?”

She looks up, her eyes playfully dancing down my exposed chest, sending shivers of need down my spine.

“Why do you call me that?” she asks.

“Love?”

“Yeah.” She tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and I don’t miss the way she presses her thighs together. “I like when you call me that, but where did it come from? I don’t think I’ve ever heard it as a term of endearment.”

“It’s what my dad called my mom.” I round the sofa and lower myself into the pile of pillows across from her. “One of the few vivid memories I have of him is when he’d come home from the shop, covered in grease from head to toe, and the first thing he always did was find my mom and say, Love, you are the light of my life. How can I love you today?”

“That’s so romantic.”

“I think so too.” Her eyes get a distant sheen to them, and I know she’s retreating to thoughts of reality.

But if I can’t, neither can she. That’s not what tonight is about. This is her fairytale, and I’m willing to fight to keep us rooted in it.

I reach out and lace my fingers in hers. “Are you ready to play?”

Juliet gives my hand a squeeze, a silent thank you. “Are you ready to lose?”

My brow raises, eternally taken by her playfulness. “Is there really a loser if we both come?”

“Only if it’s not together.”

Flashbacks flood my mind of the number of times we’ve come together this week—her mouth on my cock, my fingers in her pussy while my tongue strokes her sensitive clit. Every position. Every combination. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other.

“You like when we come together, don’t you?”

“I do.” She swirls her thumb over mine. “It makes me feel closer to you.”

“Then tonight we come together or not at all.” But only after she comes at least twice, I silently vow.

Her giggles shake the swell of her breasts, distracting me from everything else. “Deal.”

I’m so fucking gone for this woman.

“Now, love, roll the dice.”