“Help you, partner?” I rumble.
“God, if you aren’t the epitome of male patriarchy, I don’t know who is,” he says with a sniffle, sticking his nose up in the air.
I snort. “Says the man who cheats on his fiancée with whoever he sees fit?”
He opens his mouth, then snaps it shut without commenting on my observation. He can say whatever he wants about me, but I’ve never cheated on Stephanie, or anyone else. Not that I’ve ever been in a relationship with anyone else, because I haven’t.
“What’re you doing here?” I ask with a sigh.
He turns his head to the side, as if he doesn’t want to tell me, but knows that he doesn’t have a choice in the matter, either. Finally, he shifts his gaze back to meet my own.
“Heard she was worried about me, she called me, but it’s not safe for me to talk on the phone, so I came by to talk to her.”
“Why the fuck wouldn’t it be safe for her to talk on the phone?” I snap.
He shifts his gaze to his feet, then flicks it back to meet mine. “I didn’t say anything about it not being safe for her. I said it wasn’t safe for me,” he says, stressing the word, me.
“Talk to me you fucking piece of shit or I’m going to make you talk.”
He snorts but jumps back when I take a step toward him. I tower over him by four inches and have him beat by at least forty pounds of muscle. I’ve also been in my fair share of fistfights and bar brawls. I’m guessing he’s never been punched in his face even once in his life.
“I got in a little financial trouble. Sterling was supposed to help me out. Apparently, she’s struck some kind of deal with the lender and now I’m at their mercy and she doesn’t give a flying fuck.”
“Why should she?” I ask. “That’s your shit, why did you even involve her?”
He’s quiet for a moment, thinking about my words, or maybe he doesn’t give a shit and he’s just acting. He turns around and I watch as he looks out at the waves rolling in and out against the shoreline.
“She’s the only way I’m going to be saved. The only way I won’t be indebted to them. I can’t dig myself out of the hole that I created.”
“Sounds like that’s your shit as a man, not her burden to carry.”
He turns to look over at me. “She’s mine, you know she belongs here, not some farm in Bumbfuck, Nowhere. She was made for this life. Do you know how many pretty women never even make it to a movie set, and look at all she’s accomplished.”
“How about you stop telling me where she does and doesn’t belong when all you want to do is use her?”
He laughs, it’s humorless, and he shakes his head. “I don’t know what kind of life you live, cowboy. But here in the real world, everyone uses someone else for something. That’s just the way it is. You see her, tell her I’ll be back in the morning.”
“She won’t want to see you,” I point out.
He laughs, jumping her glass barrier, and I watch as he coolly walks down the beach, away from her house.
“She’ll see me, you’ll be gone by then,” he calls out before he turns a corner and is gone.
The fucker of it is. He’s right. I will be gone by then.
Chapter Twenty-Five
STEPHANIE
Stretching my body, I let out a long moan, feeling every ache in every single muscle. I’m completely naked, and again, totally alone. I don’t know why Ford doesn’t sleep next to me, but I’m going to find out.
Going into the bathroom, I take care of business, looking at myself in the mirror, shrieking silently at the sight of my appearance.
Quickly, I brush my hair, fix my face, then make my way into my closet and grab my silk kimono robe before I slip on a pair of sandals and go in search of the man himself.
It doesn’t take me long to find him. Ford is leaning against the glass barrier of my back yard, looking out at the ocean. It’s the reason I bought the house, spent far too much on it, but have loved every second of calling it my home.
Ford is shirtless, his broad back on display for my eyes only. He’s also wearing just his jeans and his feet are completely bare. How on earth he looks so sexy, I don’t know, but he does.
Mouthwateringly so.
As if he senses my presence, I watch as he turns his head, looking at me from over his shoulder. His lips twitch into a smile and he jerks his head before he shifts his gaze back out to the ocean. My feet carry me toward him, far too quickly, and yet, at the same time, far too slowly.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” I ask.
He doesn’t say anything as I approach his side. Instead, he lifts his arm, sliding it around my shoulder. He tugs me against his side, never looking down at me, but keeping his gaze toward the setting sun.
“You needed your rest. I was too rough,” he says, keeping his voice cool and low.
I hum, wrapping my arms around his waist. “You weren’t. It was wonderful, best I’ve ever had, Ford.”
He doesn’t say anything and the silence feels… off. I almost ask him what’s wrong, what’s changed between the time we made love to now, but I can’t form the words. Also, I’m not sure you can call what we did making love, but I decide to think of it that way, mainly because I loved it so much.
“We gotta talk, honey,” he murmurs.
His words cause my body to jerk. That’s what I’m supposed to say to him, not the other way around. Clearing my throat, I disengage my body from his, turning my back to him.
“We do,” I agree as I start to walk back toward the house.
“Sit out here? It’s a nice evenin’,” he calls out to my back.
Turning my body, I woodenly walk toward my patio furniture. Taking the sofa, I sit in the corner, tucking my feet under my butt as I wait for him to approach.
Refusing to watch him, I can’t see his glorious body as he makes his way toward me. I know that this is the end. I can hear it in his voice, sense it in the way he holds himself—distant, contemplative. The same way I behaved toward him before I left Gallup a few weeks ago.
He sits down on the edge of the sofa, resting his forearms against his thighs as he drops his head. My heart starts to race in my chest. This is it. I’ve pushed too far, for far too long. I can’t swallow the lump in my throat, it sits there, threatening to choke me.
Wordlessly, I wait for what’s to come.
The inevitable.
The end.
He turns his head to the side, his eyes lifting to find mine, his lips a straight line as he looks at me, watches me, all in fucking deafening silence.
“You are such an asshole,” I hiss.
Ford sits up straighter, his brows lifting as his eyes widen. “What?”
“You came all the way here, fucked me like that, and now you’re leaving me, aren’t you?” I snap.
His eyes watch me and goddammit, I’m right. The sadness that fills his gaze, causes my heart to clench. I deserve every second of this, every ache, every ounce of pain. I deserve it all. I just never thought that Ford would be the one who would deliver it to me.
I always figured that he was my constant, I always thought I could go back to him and he would be there waiting for me with open arms. Never once did I think that he would be the one to break things off, especially after getting his fill of my body.