29. Boston

CHAPTER 29

BOSTON

More than anything, I wanted to see Ford before I left for California.

Kale's visit the night before had sidelined that, and trying to get our schedules aligned before my flight had proven to be more of a struggle than expected. Ford had back-to-back meetings that were near impossible for him to get out of, but at lunch he texted and promised, if nothing else, to take me to the airport. We had barely had any time together since he'd taken me to The Black Door, but maybe that was for the better.

Every time I thought about the things we'd done that night, my brain spun out of control, leaving me dangerously dizzy over the whole thing. Six months ago, if someone had told me I would get on my hands and knees in a public place to kiss another man's feet, I would have served them with a cease and desist. But now there was no denying the throbbing ache that took up permanent residence between my legs whenever I thought about doing just that.

But maybe the break would do us good because it was getting hard for me to keep track of which way was up when it came to Ford. Things were getting so serious, so fast, and we were going to come up with a way to tell my brother sooner rather than later. It was one thing neither of us had dared to talk about, the threat of him acting as more of a looming disaster and not something we had any control over. I think we were both waiting to make sure we hadn't overestimated the other before getting ready to have that conversation.

Ford picked me up at the curb, another sleek black town car coming to a stop a few feet away from me. He climbed out of the back seat at the same time the trunk popped open, and then I was in his arms, face buried against the front of his shirt. It shoved my glasses at a crooked angle up my nose, but it was so nice to see him again, to feel him, I let the hard plastic dig into my face. The driver slammed the trunk closed after depositing my bag and, reluctantly, I untangled myself from Ford's hello hug to get into the car.

It was easily an hour to the airport, so I settled in against him, staring at the city outside the window as the driver headed toward JFK.

"Sorry this is all we get before you go," he said, kissing the top of my head.

"It's okay. You're busy."

I hadn't let my brain convince me that Ford had been avoiding me, but he also wasn't going out of his way to see me either, which I had sort of expected after everything we'd done. I didn't know how to explain it, but I thought things had changed between us after I had kissed his shoes that night, but maybe I was being foolish and making something out of nothing. Maybe my brother was right to worry about me. Maybe it was why Ford hadn't brought up the need to come clean to Kale about us being together.

Ten minutes went by in silence until Ford finally cracked, bumping the side of my face with his shoulder until I looked up.

"When are you coming back, Boston?" he asked.

"I don't know."

"Were you going to tell me?" Ford leaned away from me, brushing his hand through his hair.

"I wasn't not telling you." I shifted away from him too, a little offended by the tone of his question. "I've spent most of my free time with you and the rest of it thinking about being with you."

I'd been spending so much time with Ford that Shawn was feeling rather neglected, especially considering I was ready to get on a plane and head out of town. He hadn't bothered to ask when I would be back because I suspected he didn't doubt my return. Ford, on the other hand, was questioning me like I was ready to fly to California and never come back again.

"It seems weird you have a one-way ticket then. I thought that would be discussed since we're supposed to be in a relationship."

"And you're an expert in those?" As soon as the snappy question left my mouth, I regretted it. Sighing, I thumped my head against the seat rest and scrubbed a hand down my face. Ford gently kicked the toe of his shoe against mine and I let my hand fall limp in my lap.

"That wasn't fair. I'm sorry," I said.

"It was honest." Ford licked the corner of his mouth, worrying his tongue back and forth for a breath before his shoulders sagged and he notched himself against the window and the seat.

"I didn't book a return flight because I didn't want to be stuck there longer than I had to be," I said.

Ford pursed his lips. "Your brother says you love California. You've always told me you love it too."

"My brother knows I'm seeing someone and he thinks I'll be back in three days or less." My cheeks burned with the admission and I stared at my hands, folded neatly in my lap.

"That's not long at all," Ford murmured.

"No." I shook my head. "It's not. But I miss my mom and…"

"You miss the farm," he said.

"I miss the way the farm made me feel," I corrected.

Ford reached over and took my hand into his, lifting it to his mouth and dusting a kiss across my knuckles that felt a lot like an apology.

"Tell me about it." He angled his head toward the window and I slid back to my original seat, tucked against his side. With our hands joined together on top of his thigh, I traced my finger over the places our skin touched, marveling at the connection.

Ford didn't understand what he was asking of me, the weight of a thousand confessions I wasn't quite ready to make hanging in space between my ribs. How could I tell him the farm was home, my knees and hands in the dirt giving me the same satisfaction I found when I was in the same position, but at his feet? What words could I string together to tell him that seeing the sun lift over the horizon in California gave me the sense of being part of something bigger than myself, just like how I knew it to be true when he dragged his mouth across the back of my neck? All the things I'd been missing since Kale and I came back to New York as teenagers had shown up sevenfold in Ford, and that was a daunting reality to try and balance.

As long as I'd known him, Ford had been a player, a one-night stand kind of guy. His reputation preceded him, even in the most expensive parts of the city, and with one touch of my hand against his leg, he'd crumbled. Ford had gone from different men every night to the same man every morning, and that was no small change of heart for him. And for myself? A half-baked idea and a proposition I never should have been brave enough to ask found my entire world turned upside down.

"It's familiar," I said instead. "It's easy."

Ford smiled into my hair, huffing out an amused breath. "I thought I was easy."

"Getting you into bed was one of the easiest things I've ever done." I gave his hand a squeeze and then kissed his knuckles just like he'd kissed mine minutes before. "Once I got over how scared I was to ask you about it."

"You were scared?"

"Nervous, at least." I tipped my head back to gaze up at him. Ford brushed his thumb across my cheekbone, and my lashes fluttered closed. "I didn't know what to expect."

"Are you disappointed?"

My eyes flew open and I turned halfway around, grabbing him by the shoulders and bringing us face to face. Ford's eyes went wide with shock, then he chuckled, looking down at the spot on his arm where my fingers were curled right around his muscle. I loosened my grip, but otherwise held steady.

"Are you ? "

"I'm surprised." He leaned forward and brushed a kiss across my lips. "Pleasantly."

The breath left my lungs in a rush and I sagged against him, gooseflesh prickling its way down my arms. My brain hadn't realized how much my body needed to hear that, how badly I'd been searching for confirmation this wasn't as one-sided as I feared. I pressed my hand over my mouth to stop myself from confessing that I was in love with him.

"I was so upset, Boston." He pushed my hand off my mouth, his own lips twisted downward into a frown. "When I found out you didn't know when you were coming back, I thought…"

He went quiet, sucking his tongue across the front of his teeth and turning his stare toward the window to his left.

"I thought I was worth more to you," he said softly.

"Ford." I pressed our foreheads together, moving my hands to his shoulders, to the back of his neck. I wove my fingers together and pulled his head against mine, our noses smashed. He huffed a breath against my lips, smile curling up at the sides of his mouth.

"You're so demanding, sweetheart." He tangled a hand into my hair, his other one pressed against the middle of my back, fingers spread wide. "So bold."

"Are you sure about me?" I whispered.

"Sure as I've ever been about anything."

"When I get home…"

"We'll figure out how to tell your brother," he finished the thought, and I gently pressed our lips together.

The kiss was unlike any we'd shared before. Ford's hands roamed their way around my back, fingers scrabbling at my shirt, trying to get underneath it. He reached down and rucked up the bottom of my t-shirt, groaning when his skin landed against mine. I'd never been more unhappy to be in a car, more miserable about going to California, less ready to leave New York.

Ford peppered kisses against all the space around my mouth, cursing under his breath when the car jerked to a stop. I pried one of my eyes open, seeing the gridlocked traffic of JFK on all sides of us.

"We're here," I grumbled, moving away from Ford's exploring hands and mouth so I could get myself in order before we reached the departure gate.

"Next time use your brother's plane," he suggested.

"He's never been good about sharing his toys, and I don't mind flying commercial."

"You still fly first class?"

"Of course I do."

Ford reached up and adjusted my glasses, smoothing back a chunk of hair that had fallen into my face.

"I'll buy you a plane if you want one," he said, scrunching his nose like he was embarrassed at the offer. "If you plan on spending a lot of time going back and forth."

"Ford."

"I know it means a lot to you. The farm, I mean."

"Ford." I sealed my palm over his mouth and felt his jaw clench beneath my fingers. "It's a feeling, not a place."

He wiggled his lips against my hand until I took it away.

"I'm just saying."

"I hear you." I took his face into my hands and kissed him.

I dropped a peck against his lips and he leaned into me, mouth half open and trying to chase after more. Outside the car, horns honked and a siren blared somewhere behind us. I could see the terminal coming into view.

"Three days then?" he asked when the car finally pulled to a stop against the curb.

"Tops, so I'm told."

My door opened from the outside, the driver busying himself with getting my luggage from the trunk while Ford looked at me, green in the face like he was ready to throw up all over my lap. The feeling was beyond mutual, as most of ours had turned out to be.

I climbed out of the car, pleased to find the somber mood of my departure had done enough to soften my cock so I didn't get charged with public indecency on my way through security. Ford followed me out, rolling my suitcase from the asphalt onto the sidewalk, then he pulled me into a tight and unexpected hug. I sucked in a deep breath, burrowing my face into the crook of his neck and kissing just beneath his ear.

"I have to tell you something, Ford," I said when I broke away from the hug.

A car honked behind us, and Ford flipped him off without even looking back.

"Tell me."

"The most unexpected part of all of this was you."

He bit his lips between his teeth, even as they tried to tug up into a smile. His mouth moved like he was ready to speak, but no words came out until he said, "Let me know you get there safe, sweetheart."

"I will," I promised.

"And come home as soon as you can."

I swallowed and blinked hard, burning tears ready to spill.

"I will."