Mister Know It All by Amélie S. Duncan

JASMINE

What’s your passion?

Iremained stuck in the back of the cab, looking out the window at New York City’s Saturday afternoon bumper-to-bumper traffic to Ford’s home in the village. After debating for a while, I finally called Tam.

“Baaah.”

“Tam?”

“Baaah. Baaah. Baaah.”

Should I hang up and try later?

“Tam. NO cells!”

Now that came through clearly. The sound of shuffling, music, and a door closing, then Tam finally spoke. “Sorry. The goat refused to move from my back, and I just got yelled at for leaving my cell phone on. Otherwise, it’s my Saturday.”

I laughed. “I thought the goats were there to help you relax.”

“They are attracted to stress, and I’m full of it. So, to what do I owe this call? You’ve been avoiding me, admit it.”

“I have,” I croaked. “I was afraid you’d be upset if I still wanted Ford.”

“You’re my best friend, and I love you. I told you my honest feeling. That won’t change anything else. You can still talk to me.”

“I love you too. I just—”

“Can’t quit him. I get it,” she said. “But why do you sound stuffy? Are you sick?”

“I’m upset. I went to the Werner conference. Randall threatened me, and I slapped him—”

“Wait. Slow down and breathe.”

I told Tam everything up to the phone call.

“Bar brawls, finger fucks, and slaps? I disappear, and your life goes nuclear. Randall’s a desperate ass. Be careful. As for Werner, he’s a pretentious prick. I’m all for going into comforting arms now that Ford’s moving on. Maybe a fling can still happen. Did you bring your sexy with you?”

I laughed and touched my face as I looked out at traffic on the Brooklyn Bridge. Tam always knew how to lighten the mood when things got rough.

“No. I have a cute dress on and heels, but I didn’t wear my cutest undies, if that’s what you mean. I doubt anything will happen. Ford invited me over as a friend, and I think he wants to make sure we keep our friendship. Honestly, I just want to spend time with him.”

“Okay, I’m not interfering, but you’ve got graduation and a Ph.D. program to prepare for. Even if Ford’s officially done with her, you’re returning to Boston in a few months.”

“Yeah,” I said, but for the first time in forever, I didn’t know if the academic path was right for me. A part of the reason was how Randall’s scheming would impose on my life there. The other was spending time away. Even in the short time living in the city, I’d been exposed to different ideas and different life plans.

“Jaz, you still there? You went eerie quiet,” Tam half joked.

“I am. I’m just thinking.”

“I’m wondering what’s gotten into you? You could have crumbled for Randall, but you didn’t. I’m proud of you.”

I surprised myself. Normally, I’d have done anything to keep his recommendations and academic network. Of course, now that was yet another worry. As for her friendly warning about getting attached to Ford, I would say things were still brand new. I wish I could tell her what I felt when I was with him. Yes, there was undeniable sexual attraction, but there was much more. I enjoyed talking and spending time with him.

The taxi driver cleared his throat. “Excuse me, miss. We’ve arrived.”

“Thanks,” I said to him. “I’ve got to go.” A nervous flutter went through my stomach. “Are you going back to the goats?”

“No. I’m leaving for my parents’ vacation home in Nantucket. Quiet place bringing all my work, blah, blah, blah. I’ll have a hundred Nantucket jokes for you. Listen, Jaz, don’t brood. Randall’s not worth it.”

“He isn’t. He really showed his true colors. I can’t believe him. I knew he was selfish, but I thought he cared for me. He’s an asshole, and I won’t waste another minute on him. I love you, Tam.”

“Miss you. Have fun.”

I dug inside of my bag to pay, and a knock sounded on the window. My heart stopped. Ford. He signaled for the driver to open his door and gave him his card.

“No, Ford. I have this,” I said as he helped me climb out of the back, and I was instantly drawn closer to him. His blue eyes were astute as they scanned me. He immediately placed his arms around me and hugged me to his chest. The wall I put up to distance myself from the pain of all that happened melted away. My throat closed up.

“I’ll kill him,” he murmured against my hair.

Of course, he wouldn’t. Although, I did like the idea of Randall suffering.

“Let’s go.”

After he got his card back from the driver, he took my hand, and although my mind was still deluged with doubts, I followed him inside.

I kicked off my shoes and padded across the thick carpet to the window and stared out at the skyline. His home was a work of art.

“If this is the life of an art engineer, I’m doing college wrong.” I touched one of the decorative lamp shades.

“Yes, you are,” Ford joked. He’d sat down on the couch, and I joined him.

One of his portfolios was open on the coffee table. A naked picture of a woman with her wrists bound on all fours.

“Cecile?” I asked.

He closed the portfolio book. “No, someone from years ago. Martin, my friend and curator, stopped by for a private collector. He left it out.”

“You take photos of everything? Or just women? Priscilla said you take photos of naked women.”

He grunted. “Priscilla. Yes, I take photos of naked women. Does that trouble you?”

“Not exactly. If they’re for your art.”

“They are, but they didn’t start that way. I’ve only been doing exhibits for a few years, but my following is growing. In fact, Martin came by looking for something to add for a show. He saw your photos before and showed a few to one of his most affluent clients. They’re interested in more photos of you and possibly a collection.”

“Why? There are plenty of pretty women around to take pictures of.”

“Art isn’t only about beauty. It’s about expression, emotion. Some art can make you weep just from looking at it. You’re more than beautiful because you naturally express feeling. As a photographer, you’re my dream. My patrons come to me because they want to be able to feel your experience.”

“Nudity is still a big part of your work,” I pointed out.

“Nudity conveys lust and is easy to capture. But showing heart, vulnerability, and true nakedness is rare.”

“I like the art angle of nudes. I once sat in as an art model at college to socially experiment how I felt and how the people in the art class responded.”

Ford smiled. “Lucky art class. What was your conclusion?”

I grinned. “Inconclusive. The teacher had me looking over my shoulder, so my backside was the focus. But your photos would mean my nudes would hang on some rich guy’s wall to entertain his guest. I’m not sure how much that could hold me back in my academia world.”

“People can see free naked bodies online. It’s not just about the naked form for art lovers. But if you change your mind and agree, there’s a commission and contract. You can, of course, say no. Cecile thought it was good for her, and she was great at it. But if I could go back in time, I’d never have taken any photos of her.”

“Why?”

“She wasn’t ready for the money and attention. She got caught up, and those I trusted took advantage. What I’m trying to say is I won’t mind at all if you refuse.”

I bit my lip. To be honest, I wanted to hear more about the money. I had college loans to pay. The Ph.D. programs I applied for would mostly add more to my tally. Now that I wasn’t Randall’s teaching assistant, I’d have to come up with money to cover the income gap in my final semester. Mom and Dad were completely out, and I had taxes on my inherited home. Or would Randall make good on his threats? The idea made my stomach churn.

“You look upset. Did something else happen?” Ford asked, breaking into my thoughts.

I pasted on a smile. “I’m fine. Just, yes. I could use the money if you think my photos could sell.”

His face blanked, and I couldn’t read him.

“All right. I’ll send the information to you. I’ve got a quick conference call to attend right now. I’ve ordered dinner for us, and it should be here soon.”

“Okay, I’ll get into mischief,” I joked.

“And I can discipline,” he teased back and winked.

Ford left the room, and I went down to walk around his greenhouse. Even here, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I didn’t know what we were, but we weren’t just friends. Not when we looked at each other. Or when he touched me. Every touch left me hoping for more. Just thinking about it had me so hot and bothered, and I didn’t even think about Randall with Angelique. I actually worried for her. Randall didn’t keep people in his life if he couldn’t use them.

Ford had finished his calls and was setting out plates when I rejoined him to help. “I hope it’s all right. I ordered steaks.”

“I like steak,” I said.

Chime.The door.

Ford brought the bag to the kitchen, and I helped him put the food on the plates. Steak in raspberry sauce with potatoes, peas, and corn.

“No kale? Oh, the shame,” I teased and sat down.

He grinned and opened a bottle of red wine. “Next time. What would you like to do this evening? I have a pool on the roof.”

I took a sip and smiled. “I think I’ll skip the pool. Just give me a pad and paper so I can brainstorm a new plan for the rest of my life.” My eyes glazed over, my gaze unfocused.

He touched my hand that trembled. “I’d like to know more about what happened today.”

I nodded, but we ate in silence for a while. Ford was patient, and he deserved an explanation.

“Randall was always arrogant and demanding. They warned me before I took the job as his assistant. I took it anyway because I liked the challenge. I did all his research, ran his study groups, graded his papers. Hell, I even wrote some of the research papers he’s published. I lived like a professor. The life I always thought I wanted. And I was really good at it. Randall convinced me he believed in me and that I was a scholar in the making. School and grades have always been what I thought marked my worth, but when things turned to sex . . . He’s almost twenty years older than me—”

Ford cursed and poured us both a half glass of the Merlot. “What a gross misuse of his power and control. He’s a disgusting asshole.”

I drained most of my glass. “He’s a brilliant asshole. I thought I believed in the work. However, this last year, it seemed like I was going through the motions. With college winding down, I’d wake in the middle of the night in a panic, like what the hell will I do? Will this really be my life?”

“There’s no set time to decide. You may find you live many lives,” he said.

“You know, I never felt I had a choice. My parents met Randall, and they saw themselves. My mom married her professor, and they stayed together. In their heads, we were a brainy power couple. I never admitted any of this to anyone. I usually just say everything is fine. Tam, my best friend, knows, but she has the same pressure to succeed as I do. She has to be a doctor . . .”

“I understand,” Ford said. “My dad is a celebrated plastic surgeon from a line of surgeons. We were wealthy, but he kept his wallet tight as a drum, as a form of control. He left us for a client when I was a teen, and my brothers and sisters were in grade school. I modeled to help my mom stay afloat and fight him legally and minored in business to understand money and how to invest. I’ve reached associate art director for Morgan Financial, which is on Forbes list as the top three software divisions in the world, but my father still considers me a failure.”

“He sounds horrible.” I touched his hand and squeezed it. “You’re successful. Graham says you are a wiz at your job.”

“I am,” he said. “I, like you, am doing what comes naturally for me. Hell, I may even become the head of the department after Margot retires. I’ll be absorbed in work forever.” He stared off.

“Do you like your engineering job?” I asked.

“I do. Art is my passion. My work in software design at Graham’s is another extension of my art. I love the financial security it provides me and members of my family. Photography is my passion, though. It drives and fuels me creatively. Now enough about me. What is your passion?”

My stomach fluttered under his gaze. “My passion? I don’t know. I thought maybe after college, I’d find a clue… maybe become a Rhodes Scholar and travel and study. But now that Randall threatened me—”

“What do you mean ‘threatened’?” His brows pulled together.

“He said he’d ruin my reputation. Tell other professors I’m a slut. I don’t care about that, but he would tell them not to work with me. He wants me to keep running his life until I graduate, maybe longer, if I get into a Ph.D. program.”

“I’ll take care of it. He won’t do a thing to you. I’ll make sure of that.”

“I’d prefer to fight my own battles. Besides, Randall’s posturing. He has much more to lose than me. All I want is to live in a small house with a dog and a wall of books.”

“All alone? You’re not that cynical. It would be a life’s tragedy that someone would miss out on sharing his life with you.”

My heart stuttered in my chest, and I met his eyes. They bore into my own, rendering me speechless. If I didn’t look at him, I could imagine he was using charm to lift my spirits, but the intensity of his gaze made my body react. It made me want to touch him. But wasn’t it wrong to move on impulse right now? I wasn’t sure if last night was a one-time thing or what we were doing.

I flicked my eyes down to break our stare. “Maybe. I’m just upset now. We should eat before the food gets too cold.” I moved my food around my plate.

“We can, but I’d like to hear more about why you feel you should be alone, Jasmine.”

I hunched my shoulders. “I know I shouldn’t care, but some of the things Randall said stuck in my head. Like how he had to fuck me to make me shut up, and even that didn’t satisfy him—”

“What the fuck did he say to you?” Ford growled, his nostrils flared. “That piece of shit has no right talking to you like that. I don’t care who the hell he is.”

Ford’s reaction surprised me. Besides Tam and Soraya, no one ever acted that way when someone hurt me, not even my parents.

“Randall’s always been full of himself, but he must have sensed a finality with me, so he tried to hurt me.”

Standing from his seat, he came close and took my hands in his. “What else did he do? Did he touch you?”

“He held my face and said some more nasty things, but I slapped him.”

“That pompous piece of shit hurt you? He won’t get away with it. He has me to deal with now,” Ford said in a sharp tone.

“He threatened to ruin my academic career, which I’ve worked too damn hard for. I just want to put him behind me right now.” I hated even listening to how weak Randall’s aggression made me.

I closed my eyes. I didn’t want Ford to see me broken. “I’ll fix it, but just not right now, please, Ford.”

He tilted my face up to him. “Open your eyes, and don’t shut me out. Don’t hide your feelings. I know you’re hurt, and I understand your fear, but I can’t let him get away with hurting you. You matter to me.”

Tears burned the backs of my eyelids. “The thing is, when he said it, I believed him. My last two boyfriends cheated on me too.”

“I’ve been cheated on too, Jasmine, and that doesn’t mean either one of us isn’t worthy of love. Randall is an asshole who tried to scare you into silence. He doesn’t get to take your power away.”

My face broke into a smile. Ford’s encouragement was unparalleled. While I still felt unease at what Randall might do, Ford made me feel like my feelings mattered. “Thanks for that.”

His eyes locked with mine and held. He squeezed my hands. “It will get better.”

My pulse raced, and all I could think about was how much I wanted him to kiss me. He leaned close and brushed his lips against my cheek, then stood. His chest expanded with his deep sigh as he moved away from me.

“It’s been a long day, and I have an early start. I’ll start the movie with you. You can sleep in the spare room tonight if you want, or I can take you home.”

“I don’t have to go yet. I want to stay with you.”

Awareness washed over his expression at what I was too shy to ask for. I didn’t want to talk, watch a movie, or be alone. I wanted to feel desired. I wanted him to touch me again.

“You’ve been through enough today. I brought you over to support you as your friend. I don’t want sex to mix up your feelings.”

I dropped my head to avert my eyes. He turned me down. Maybe he only wants to be my friend now. “I’ll . . . I’ll go home, just give me a minute . . .”

I got up and hurried toward the stairs.

I was at the top when his large hands circled my waist and held firm. An electrical current sparked just from his touch. He must feel it.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone gentle. “Why are you upset?”

What was wrong? Ford had been perfect, attentive, supportive, kind. He was right; I should go. But that wasn’t what I wanted to do. I wanted Ford to keep looking at me like he wanted me. I wanted him to touch me again.

“Talk to me, Jasmine.”

“Everyone in my life keeps telling me how things are to go or how I feel. I don’t want you telling me too. I shared what happened because I thought it’d help you understand me and what I’ve gone through.”

“And I’m respecting your feelings, Jasmine. I don’t want you feeling taken advantage of.”

“I don’t feel that way at all. I want you, Ford. I choose right now to be with you because I like you and how I feel when you touch me. But now you don’t want me.”

I thought he’d let me go and tell me he wanted to preserve our friendship. My body went stiff, bracing myself for his rejection, for him to let me go. But he kept his hands on my waist.

“Ford? I’ll go. It’s fine,” I whispered.

His hands left my waist and slid up my sides.

“Jasmine,” he whispered. He moved higher to my breasts and cupped them in his hands, kneading them, rubbing his thumb over my nipples. My breath hitched, and my body tightened and heated with an aching need like no other I had before. I wanted Ford.

I closed my eyes and moaned. I wanted my dress off. I wanted to feel his hands on my skin.

He pressed his body against my back, and I felt his large erection against my ass. “You know I want you.”

“Then take me, Ford, because that’s what I want too.”

“Jasmine,” he whispered and pulled me closer, burying his hands in my hair. My scalp tingled as he pulled it back to angle my head up to him. With a savage intensity, his lips covered mine in a searing kiss that stole my breath. Oh hell, yes.

I pressed my lips hard against his mouth and gripped his shoulders. Forget breathing, forget every damn thing. Just as long as Ford’s soft lips stayed against mine.

Running my hands over his hard chest and biceps, I parted my lips for his tongue to deepen the kiss. His tongue took over in delicious, sensual strokes against my own.

I moaned and squirmed in his muscular arms that moved to hold my waist. The sensation coursed down my spine and right between my legs that grew wetter.

We broke apart for air, and he kissed down my neck and slid his hands lower to cup my buttocks.

“I’m clean. Are you on the pill?” he asked softly.

I nodded. A nervous excitement went through me.

He squeezed one cheek, then pulled off my dress and thong. I shivered in my nakedness, and his gaze went to my breasts. He reached for them, cupping them in his hands, and groaned.

“You’re so fucking beautiful . . . They are so beautiful.” He rubbed his face over them, then laved them with his tongue, licking around my tight nipples.

I moaned. The pleasure on Ford’s face made me hotter and wetter. “That feels so good. Oh, do it more.” I arched my back, my hands holding on to his thick damp hair.

He kneaded and squeezed, then closed his lips around my nipple and sucked hard.

I cried out, then moaned as a shudder traveled down to my clit. Ford soothed the pain away with his tongue.

“Mmm.” He scooped me up like I weighed nothing, then set me down on the bed’s edge. “Now I must see what you’ll do clamped.” He opened up his bedside table and took out a bag.

My brows lowered. “Clamped?”

He sent me a dark, eager look before opening a bag, removing a set of nipple clamps, and putting them in my hands. The thin metal chain between them was long and lightweight. They had soft rubber tips and adjustable screws with a chain-link between.

My brows rose, then lowered. “I’m curious, but my breasts are really sensitive.”

“I promise to take them off if they hurt too much. But with me and the nipple clamps, it’ll give you an orgasm you’ll never forget.”

I smiled, holding them up for him to take. “With that promise, how could I refuse?”

Ford immediately gripped my right breast and sucked on the nipple, causing me to moan. I held his head and arched into him to get him to suck more. “Oh, Ford.”

He indulged me, running his tongue on the skin and around the hardened points. He then eased out of my grip and cupped the other breast, squeezing my nipple in his hand before putting the clamp on just behind the tip.

“Tell me when it doesn’t hurt.”

I winced in anticipation of the pain I expected to feel. But he lessened the tightness by the screw, adjusting the end until it didn’t ache as much. When I relaxed, he turned it a couple of times to tighten. It pinched.

I whimpered. “It hurts.”

“Let me make it better.” Ford closed his lips over the tip, his tongue licking around the clamp. My breasts were always sensitive, but the sensation tripled and sent waves of electricity through my body.

I clenched my thighs together tight and shuddered hard. It felt as if Ford’s mouth suctioned my clitoris. “Oh my God.”

“That’s right. That’s how I want you.”

Grasping my other breast, he sucked it and adjusted the clamp. He smiled when they were on and tugged a little on the chain. I whimpered.

“I don’t know if I can keep them on,” I said, though I liked the feeling they gave when his mouth stroked my breasts.

“Take some deep breaths with me,” he said, and I did, and he waited until the pain ebbed.

“You look so incredibly sexy.” He rolled my breast in his hand. “I want to take my time, but you’ve taken away my patience.” His breath shallow, he slid his hand down between my legs, stroking his fingers through my slick folds. His thumb teased and rubbed around my aching clit.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, his voice coarse.

It was. The sound I made was unrecognizable to me because the pleasure had me on a high. He knew how to touch me. I ignited and stirred at every sensitivity he uncovered. His attention apt as his fingers kept stroking and teasing my pussy. I didn’t want it to stop. I bit my lip to keep from coming.

He tugged on the metal chain, and a jolt of sensation went right down to my clit. I cried out and grabbed the sheets as I writhed.

“Keep doing that, and I’m going to fuck you first,” he teased, slipping one finger inside me. “It’s agony not fucking you right now. You want me to fuck you, Jasmine?”

My inner walls clenched around his fingers.

“I do. So much,” I said huskily.

He groaned, adding another finger, and pumped them inside me. “Show me how you’ll take me.”

He had me so hot I didn’t even think. I moved my hips to fuck his fingers as he watched me. My breath went ragged, and I moaned loudly. I could feel my body tighten as my orgasm approached. Then he stroked over that sensitive spot that broke my concentration and control. I bucked my hips up and cried out, “Ford!”

“Don’t come yet,” he demanded. Clasping one of my legs to keep me open to him, he then returned to stroking softly on my clit.

My breath came in pants. “I don’t know if I can stop,” I rasped, delirious.

“I want to taste your sweet cunt first.”

Ford knelt between my parted legs, pulling me down closer to the edge, then dragged his warm tongue up my slit.

“Open your legs for me, Jasmine.”

I gaped my thighs wider for him. My legs jittered as pleasure spiked through my core with each stroke of his tongue, making me move out of place.

“You taste so good.” He rubbed my thigh soothingly, then set me back, open, and wide for him. And there again was a flex of his control. He’d have me the way he wanted, and just knowing it sent a surge of heat through me.

He was unhurried as he sinfully licked and swirled his tongue at my opening, teasing flicks on my clit. I moved with his mouth and hand like I was in heat as he sucked on my clit. My fingers gripped the cover beneath me. I burned and climbed right back up just so he would ease his intensity, keeping my body on edge.

“Ford.” I squirmed, but there was no way to recover my senses. “Please.”

“I have you, and I’m not letting you go,” he said. “Stop fighting me.”

Was I fighting? I was holding back a little of myself, but Ford wanted everything.

His fingers curved and stroked that charged spot again, and this time, he didn’t stop. He rubbed faster, his mouth lashing deliciously against my core. The sensation was too intense, too much. My control was gone, and Ford had taken over. My breath came short and fast. I couldn’t hold out any longer. His will and the way he had commanded my body pushed me over. I came, my body shaking hard with the force of my orgasm. I squirmed in his grip as ecstasy flooded me. I could feel my climax on my thighs, and it was more than I ever had. But he wasn’t done.

He reached up and tugged on the chain between the nipple clamps, reawakening them, and I screamed. The intensity channeled down to my clit as he lapped on it.

I bucked up in his hold, shaking as he held on to me until I could only quiver.

“So beautiful, Jasmine.”

Spasms continued to go off in my sex, and Ford’s hands slowly caressed my pussy.

My eyes welled up at the intensity of his possession. I still couldn’t bring myself to stop him. I was at his will.

Ford was back up at my breasts, removing the clamps, and a rush of sensations returned as his mouth closed around one and suctioned. I mewled in pain and pleasure. I was sure I was coming apart, panting hard as I struggled to breathe. Then surprisingly, I found myself needy again, eager, missing his touch.

That was when I looked at him.

He was staring at me, and his gaze instantly took me. It held sensual darkness and my secrets. He knew me now in a way I was only discovering myself.

And he still wanted more.

“Get on your knees,” he commanded.

I eased into a position to meet his demand. Gripping the sheets, I moaned in pleasure as he brought his cock between my thighs, dragging his shaft back and forth against my sensitive flesh, coating himself with my essence.

“You feel so good. I don’t want to stop.” He paused and took an audible breath, then he pushed in one continual thrust until he was sealed deep inside of me.

I gasped as a ripple of pain and pleasure shot through me.

He groaned and slowed his pace, dragging his hot length in and out of my pussy.

“Feel me, Jasmine.”

“Oh, Ford,” I purred. He felt so good.

He sensually swerved his hips. Every angle brought on new pleasures. Every angle brought me closer to the brink of orgasm again.

“But I . . . I can’t climax again,” I panted in awe.

“You’re gripping me tight, Jasmine. You can. Move with me.”

My inner muscles clenched as I met his rhythm, rocking back as he pounded his cock into me. His thighs, covered in sweat, slapped behind me as he thrust in hard and fast. Nothing went as I thought. Nothing about Ford had been as expected.

“Stay with me,” he said, digging his fingers into my hips and grounding his dick into me. His hand reached between my thighs and strummed my clit.

I cried out as pain and pleasure flooded me.

“Jasmine,” Ford growled and held on to me, his cock spasming inside as he lost himself and came, moaning my name. He kissed the back of my damp neck, his heart hammering against my back. And life couldn’t get any better.

Ford climbed off the bed and took out the camera from his side table. “Can I take some photos?”

I lifted the sheet over my head. “Oh, come on. Now?”

“You’re stunning.”

“I’m not. My hair is all over the place. I’m sweaty. I look awful . . .” I combed my hands through my hair.

“Leave it. You’re perfect.”

“Fine.”

I gave in because Ford gave me an experience I’d never had before, and I wanted to see myself like this again. Bliss had taken over and left me happy, ecstatic, content. I’d never known sex could be like that. Never known I could let go completely and feel utterly exhilarated. Sated.

“Come away with me, Jasmine.” Ford changed the bed sheets around me and wouldn’t let me help. He picked up his camera and took more pictures of me. Most I imagine he’d throw away, but I felt too good to care.

“Come away with me, Jasmine,” Ford repeated.

My brows rose. “What? No. Are you serious?”

He hesitated. “If you’d like to come, you can.”

“No. I mean, I want to, but I have some focus groups to run and some overtime initiatives to start. We have a meeting for Margot’s retirement party to do too. After the ID card fiasco, I want to redeem myself with Graham and Quinton. I’ve got some fun ideas, but I’m not sure about them. Quinton seems keen.”

“Quinton hates Margot. He’d agree to whatever form of torture. Graham is fine.”

“I want to do better than fine. Anything I set out to do, I want to be the best at it . . . I don’t want to fail at any job.”

“Is this part of the overachieving pressure you talked about earlier?” he asked.

“Could be, but it’s who I am now. I like me.”

“I like you too,” he whispered and propped himself up on his elbow, facing me. “Margot hates parties. Just send an email inviting people to gather in the lobby at 4:45 p.m. Present the plaque, give a speech, have some food, and you’re done.”

I scrunched up my face. “Really? Oh . . . no.”

His brows lowered. “What did you do?”

“Quinton and I have done a bit of sleuthing and found she was president of the New Wave music club in high school. I had a proposal sent over from an event planner. She had this great idea for an eighties-style party, including a Duran Duran cover band. I’ll need to cancel it.”

He laughed. “Please don’t. You’ll be a legend.”

I frowned. “I don’t want to upset Margot. She was right. I should’ve gone to her. I’m going to make a real effort to get to know her.”

He sat up, his face stern. “No, you’re not. I don’t want you near her when I can’t be there to help.”

I smiled at his frown. “I can take care of myself. I’ve dealt with meaner people than Margot. I’ve got thick skin. Hell, I didn’t even cry when Randall and I broke up or when he was vicious.”

I didn’t know why I said that, but it was something that bothered me. I’d been at his side for practically two years—a part of his life every waking moment—and it all just disappeared. What did that say about me?

Ford caressed the sides of my face. “Tell me why.”

I lowered my eyelids. “I felt hurt for sure, but I didn’t cry because . . . I told myself Randall didn’t deserve my tears. He doesn’t deserve me.” My voice was thick. I’d wrapped the anger so tightly around myself that I’d cut off my feelings. Hell, I don’t know if I can cry anymore.

“I cried before and when Cecile left.”

“Why did she go?”

“I can say a lot of reasons, but I’ve realized she didn’t want me.” His pain was palpable.

I wanted to soothe it. He moved on his back and pulled me on top of him and hugged me close.

I wanted to ask more about Cecile and if he talked with her, but I didn’t. I wanted to trust Ford. He hadn’t given me a reason not to, and being with him felt right.

Ford was so open with me. His desire to bring us close so fast breached the walls I had around my heart to protect it. He’d been doing it from the start with his photography, capturing my fears and desires before I found a way to shield them from him. And the more time I spent with him, it could be harder to keep those feelings out. He could break my heart. Even knowing that, I couldn’t stop the feelings.The tears didn’t come, but I could feel them closer than they’d been in a long time.