Chapter Twenty-One

Oh, dear. Things were getting ugly.

Trent caught up with her outside The Goose, where she stood under the covered sidewalk with her big tote over her shoulder and Shayla strapped to her chest, waiting for Ford to arrive and open. She was early. Ford was a little late. She was cornered. Literally.

“I’ve texted you more than once.” With his arm braced on the wall behind her, he smiled down at her. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re avoiding me.”

“I’ve just been really busy, as I said in the original text I sent back.” His family could bring an important new investment and tourist draw to their town. She didn’t want to alienate him. She cupped her hand around Shayla’s head, sheltering her despite the substantial shelter of the carrier. Trent didn’t need to be interacting with the baby. “Between my daughter, my job, and my class, I guess I don’t have a minute to spare. It’s nothing personal, but my life is pretty full right now. You know how it is,” she added, though he clearly didn’t have the first clue. He had a cushy job in a successful family business, loads of disposable income, and practically no real responsibilities. Add in the air of entitlement and a poorly hidden attitude that she should be thrilled to have attracted his attention, it was all she could do to maintain her manners.

“I keep telling you, Lilah, you’ve got to make time for yourself.”

By which he meant for him. He slid his finger under her chin and tipped her face toward his, in a move she found overly familiar and condescending. While the sidewalk wasn’t busy, she became painfully aware of the intimate picture their pose portrayed to anybody who happened by. She moved her chin away from his touch and prepared to sidestep and say something firmer, when a low, flat voice said, “I need you inside, Lilah. You’re on the clock.”

Muffling a sigh of relief, she did her side-step and moved to Ford, who didn’t look up from unlocking the bar. When he pushed the door open, he turned to hold it for Mia and her and added, “Not open,” for Trent’s benefit, then closed it with a solid slam.

Mia hit the lights and then sort of danced over to Lilah with a secret smile and happy energy. “Guess what,” she invited as she eased Shayla out of the carrier.

More than willing to turn her attention to whatever had put the flush in Mia’s cheeks, she offered a smile of her own as she unstrapped herself from the carrier. “What?”

“I’m staying.” She nuzzled Shayla as she said it.

Not sure she understood correctly, Lilah glanced over at Ford, who was rounding the bar. “Staying?”

He looked up, met her stare with a steady one of his own.

“In Captivity,” Mia explained. “I’m not leaving at the end of the summer. I’m gonna stick around, stay with Ford. I’ll go to school here in the fall, but”—she bounced the baby in her arms—“I’ll still have time to spend with my girlie here, and stuff.”

Ford’s lips turned up into his stealth-smile, and her heart bloomed. “That’s wonderful.” Following her own happy impulse, she gave the girl a hug. Over Mia’s shoulder, she held Ford’s gaze. “I didn’t dare say it out loud,” she admitted, “but I hoped maybe you would.”

“I still have to work out the details with her mom and dad,” Ford replied with a firmness that suggested he was in the driver’s seat this time around, and he didn’t intend to take no for an answer, “so we’re not quite ready to go prime-time with the news—consider yourself inner circle—but yeah, that’s what we’re going to do. She wanted to tell you right away.”

She eased back and smiled at the happy teen. “I’m honored to be part of your inner circle, and I’ll keep it to myself until you tell me otherwise. I know how to keep a secret.”

Mia grinned and bounced a giggle out of Shayla. “I heard that about you. Yes, I did,” she added as she rubbed noses with the baby. “I heard your mommy kept a really big secret for months and months and months.”

She knew Mia referred to how she’d kept her pregnancy under wraps, but her guilty conscience ran straight to the mental vault where she hid her deepest, darkest secret—that she’d dumped the pregnancy on Shay the very morning of his death and then, relieved to have someone else shouldering some of that burden, let him fly off without a thought to how it might weigh on him. That it might weigh heavy enough to knock him right out of the sky.

“Hey, sorry.” Mia’s smile faded. “Lame joke.”

“No.” She quickly shook her head. “No, you’re fine. I just remembered why I came in early. I was hoping to ask you and your…and Ford”—she looked over at him—“if you could watch Shayla for a couple hours tonight.”

He stopped in the process of scooping grounds into the coffeemaker and pinned her with an indecipherable look that still managed to make her stomach clench. Silence stretched for a long, tense beat until he jerked a thumb toward the kitchen. “Can I talk to you in private?”

And now she felt like a schoolgirl being called to the principal’s office. Battling anxiety she’d done nothing to earn, as far as she knew, she nodded and kept her chin high as she walked briskly through the door to the kitchen. Measured footsteps behind her told her he followed.

“My office,” he said and put a hand on her arm to guide her down the narrow hall. The casual contact somehow made her feel even more out of line. What had she done wrong?

She waited, silently stewing, while he unlocked the office, flicked the wall switch so the overhead lights blinked on, and then held the door and gestured her in. Once inside, she turned, crossed her arms, and stared him down while he shut the door. When he faced her and mirrored her stance, she lost the slippery grip she had on her patience.

“What’s the problem?”

“Have a seat.”

“No. I think I’ll stand. What are you angry about?”

He let out a breath and dragged both of his hands through his hair. “I’m not angry. Okay, I am,” he conceded when she raised her brows at him. “But that’s not your problem.”

At a loss, she threw her arms out to her sides. “What is the problem?”

“Lilah, we need to establish some ground rules.”

“About?” She wracked her brain. “Oh.” And then her heart sank. She’d been selfish and presumptuous. “About asking you and Mia to babysit? I know it’s last minute, but this came up last minute—”

“About asking me to babysit so you can go on a date. I’m trying not to hold you back from…anything. I’m trying to remember that you have your first real taste of adult freedom, and of course you want to see what that’s about, but maybe you could hold off on dating someone else until my bite marks have faded from your ass?”

“I’m not—” Heat stormed her face, but she pushed through the embarrassment because her confusion demanded immediate attention. “I don’t have any plans to go on a date, tonight or any other night. That’s not why I need a sitter.”

Now, incredibly, color swept under his cheeks. “Oh.” His brows lowered. “I saw you and that guy talking out front, and then you came in and asked if we could look after Shayla tonight, and I just…” His fingers tunneled through his hair again. “Shit. I assumed.”

And he’d been upset by his assumption. That fact shouldn’t make her heart float like a helium balloon, but it did. She took a step closer to him. “You assumed wrong, on several counts. First, I need a sitter because Izzy and Bridget asked me to come over to the Shanahans’ house tonight for the judging of the baby blankets and”—she made air quotes—“other important business.” The uncertainty of that business had her stomach tightening again. “I’m welcome to bring Shayla, of course, so if you can’t do it, no problem, but Izzy wasn’t sure how long this other business would take, and I thought it might go more smoothly if I didn’t bring her.

“Next,” she continued, so he didn’t interrupt, “the conversation you saw outside was one-sided. Trent did ask me out, but I told him face-to-face what I’ve already communicated via text. Namely, I don’t have any time for him. He hoped to change my mind.”

That dangerous edge Ford’s bone-deep calm and easy humor usually hid suddenly sharpened. She saw it in the rigid angle of his jaw and the narrowing of his eyes.

“He’s not going to change my mind,” she added, aiming to make that dangerous edge disappear. “Last, but not least, the, uh, marks on my ass”—new heat rushed to her cheeks, but she soldiered on—“are pretty much faded. I’d appreciate an opportunity to return the favor whenever you’re free.”

He absorbed that without blinking, then stepped closer to her. Some of the dangerous edge disappeared. Not all, but some. “You put that all out nice and orderly,” he said. “Let me try to do the same with my responses. First”—he wrapped her hair around his hand and tipped her head back—“Mia and I would be happy to watch Shayla tonight while you’re at the Shanahans’. Take your time.”

“Thank yo—”

He placed a finger over her lips. “Next, if that Trent fucker can’t take no for an answer, you tell me. I’ll explain the meaning of the word to him.”

“I’ve made him understand,” she promised. “But gently. His family could bring new money to our local economy, and I won’t be the one to jeopardize an opportunity that could benefit so many. I’ll continue to be polite but unavailable. He’ll get bored and find a more receptive target for his invitations. That’s how I want to handle it.”

She maybe expected him to argue or at least caution her. She didn’t expect to be hauled up and into a strong embrace and a possessive kiss. But that’s what happened. Too stunned to unpack all the reasons behind it, she held onto his shoulders and drank it in like parched earth drinking in rain. After several breath-stealing seconds, his mouth slowed. His lips softened. He ended the kiss by degrees and murmured into the space between them, “When I passed you two this morning, I didn’t pick up a gracious defeat coming off that guy. I’m not saying you weren’t communicating your lack of interest,” he continued quickly, “but some people don’t respond to polite and gentle. Block his number. If he tries to corner you again, tell me. I’ll break it down for him in a way he’ll be able to process, and whatever fallout comes from it will be on me. Understand?”

“He didn’t corner me. He approached me in broad daylight on a public sidewalk—”

“He backed you up against a wall, put his hand on you without invitation, and showed no signs of taking no for an answer. I’m glad you didn’t feel threatened, but I’m not going to give him a chance to accomplish that. I’m not negotiating this, Lilah. I need a promise.”

“Okay. Okay.” It wouldn’t be an issue, anyway, so what was the harm? Polite and gentle would do the job. A guy like Trent wasn’t looking for more than a short-term hookup. He just didn’t know what to make of a girl not jumping at the opportunity. She took his face in her hands. “I promise.”

“Thank you.” He lowered his forehead to hers. “Now, about the last part…”

She slipped her hands into the back pockets of his jeans and felt something stir along the front of his jeans. “Yes. Let’s talk about that.”

Instead of smiling, his expression sobered. “I don’t want to put demands on you or ask for commitments—that’s not who I am—but I have one rule. For as long as we’re sinking our teeth into each other, it’s just you and me.”

“Of course.” She agreed without hesitation, and a part of her thrilled at hearing him acknowledge their relationship—the naked parts of it, specifically, as she knew he’d always be her friend—would continue without the need for her to resort to more sexual torture to wear him down. He was hers, and she was his, and that sounded just fine. But something in the way he delivered his little speech left her perturbed.

“Good.” He kissed her again, then eased back. “Glad we got that settled.”

“Me, too.” Except she still felt unsettled. Before she could talk herself out of it, she blurted, “No, actually, I don’t think things are completely settled yet, for me.” And God, she sounded pissy.

He heard it, because he sat back against his desk and lifted a brow. “How so?”

“Why wouldn’t you make demands or ask commitments of me?”

He tipped his head slightly, and the mild smile returned to his lips. “Because I have to be a little bit fair. Our dynamic is skewed as hell. I can’t take advantage of that.”

“I don’t understand.” But she suddenly had a violent desire to slap that smile off his face. “Are you afraid I’d agree to something I didn’t really want to agree to? Because I won’t. I know what I want and what I don’t want. Maybe you should try me?”

“I shouldn’t.”

The calm certainty of his reply made her want to scream. Instead, her icy, “Why not?” vibrated with frustration.

He pushed to his feet, and she realized she hadn’t corned the market on frustration. “You’re closer to my daughter’s age than mine. You’ve slept with precisely one other man in your life. You just had a baby. You went through a massive upheaval a few months ago, and you’re still figuring out which way is up. Do you want me to keep going?”

“No. Actually, I’ve heard enough. I’d like a turn.”

He made a the-floor-is-yours gesture.

“I’m not a teenager. I’m a full-grown adult. Maybe I had to do some of that growing up fast, but I did it. I have a daughter, a job, a place of my own, and I’m taking care of all of it. On top of that, I’m almost halfway done with a college degree. Do I have help? Yes, I do, and I’m grateful for every bit of it, but I deserve a little respect for managing my life. I may not know everything, but I know what I want, and I know what I don’t want, and I know which freaking way is up. I don’t need to be protected from my supposed inexperience.”

He didn’t smile, or frown, or offer any physical hint of what he thought of her arguments. Instead, he tipped her chin up and kissed her very softly. With his dark eyes fixed on her, he said, “I know you think you don’t, and that’s just another reason why I have to be fair.”

Then he walked out of the office.

When the door closed, she bit back a groan and kicked the leg of the desk. It didn’t speak well of her self-professed maturity, but it made her feel better.