Chapter Twenty

The bottle of beer Violet downed while talking to Tucker, Will, and Easton wasn’t enough to prevent her anxiety from spiraling out of control.

What had Lexi and Addie talked to Ford about?

He’d shrugged it off with a mutter about wedding stuff, but the mood had drastically shifted, the easygoing guy from earlier replaced with a stoic version. Still handsome and rugged and able to set her afire with one simple glance, but he felt far away.

Why does everything feel off?

Is he going to dump me? Why would he take me to meet his friends and then dump me?

Unless they didn’t like me. But they were so nice, not to mention straightforward enough that surely I’d notice.

After she sorted her fears and concentrated on Ford, though, the repeated raking of his fingers through his hair and gripping the steering wheel seemed more like stress.

While Violet couldn’t do much about the emotional distance, she could eradicate the physical space. Her heart beat at a hammering, punishing pace at the idea of putting herself out there.

Either she could drive herself mad or attempt to provide an anchor for whatever storm was raging inside Ford’s head.

The unclicking of her seat belt sounded loud in the quiet. She slid across the cab of the truck, watching Ford’s profile.

A muscle in his jaw ticked.

And Violet kept on scooting until she was plastered against his side. “There,” she said. “That’s better.”

Give me a sign. Something to go on. Anything…

Ford wrapped his hand around her thigh. The muscles in his shoulders and neck loosened as he slowed for a stop sign. Then he planted a quick kiss on her temple. “So much better.”

Violet clamped on to the bone he’d thrown her as ferociously as Trouble would. Speaking of, she missed the furball who loved her exactly as she was.

Headlights flashed behind them, and Ford glanced in the rearview mirror. “Want me to take you home? I’m working through some shit in my head right now, and it’s making me grumpy. I don’t want you to catch the brunt of it.”

“What if I’m willing to catch it? Or…” she said, afraid she was being too bold but not wanting to wonder what if. “We can head to your place and see if I can make the grumpy go away…”

Violet could do without the raw sensation overtaking her chest, but she told herself giving love a shot was worth it. While hoping she wasn’t repeating past mistakes. “Besides, I miss my puppy. Each day I go without a slobbery greeting, this little hollow spot forms in my chest.”

“You’re getting too attached to a puppy that’s not yours. It’s not even mine.”

“Don’t act like you’re surprised. We both knew it was going to happen. And he’s attached to me, too.”

“He has been a right pain in my ass the past two days. I think he misses you.” Ford stopped at another intersection—the one where he’d turn right to take her to Maisy’s or left toward his house. His grip on her thigh tightened as he coasted his lips over hers. “I’ve missed you being there, too.”

There they were—the words that filtered into her soul and mended her broken pieces.

The instant she opened for him, Ford swept his tongue inside and stroked it over hers. “Actually, I have a different idea,” he said, his voice gruff. “Feel like another adventure?”

“Hmm.” Violet acted as if she had to mull it over as everything inside her shouted yes. “Will there be rodents or vermin involved? Thanks to last weekend, that’s a question I now feel I have to ask.”

He huffed a laugh and shook his head. “No vermin. Well, we might come across some out in the wild, but no herding will be required.”

Speaking of wild, her body was short-circuiting, and thank goodness no one had pulled up behind them. She pressed her lips to his, basking in the way they automatically moved against his and said, “Kiss me like that again, and I’ll go just about anywhere with you.”

…

Ford’s antagonistic thoughts had almost ruined the evening.

Instead of getting upset or letting him hold her at a distance, Violet had reached out and reminded him how incredible she was.

Maybe he didn’t have all the answers, but the woman showed him how it felt to be genuinely happy. He thought he’d experienced joy before, but these past couple weeks had shown him an entirely new level.

On top of all her other amazing qualities, she’d helped him train the puppies and become a better bridesdude. She’d even defended his honor to the scariest woman—nay, person—in town. Not to mention how well she’d fit in with his friends. Truth be told, since the moment they’d met, she’d just fit in general.

What was he doing, allowing his issues and fears to get the best of him? Especially when every other part of him screamed that he’d be an idiot to let Violet go?

High risk, high reward was his home base, and it was time to take a risk already.

After a quick stop for supplies and to grab Violet’s camera, Ford drove to the hillier side of Lake Jocassee. He parked his truck at the trailhead, and then he was out and rounding the cab. He opened the passenger door, gripped Violet around the waist, and lowered her to her feet.

The moonlight lit up her bewitching features, and his doubts melted away. They had an undeniable connection, and they owed it to themselves to see how far it could go.

He slung on his backpack and then linked his fingers with hers. “Ready for a short hike?”

“What’s a short hike in Ford McGuire speak?”

“A mile or so.”

“Is that how long we have to go to find a spot where you haven’t made out with another woman?” she asked, the words on the teasing side, although a hint of curiosity underlay the question as well.

“Shep and his big mouth,” Ford murmured with a shake of his head.

Violet craned her neck and peered at the dirt trail that led to chimney rock. “I suppose a mile is survivable, even for someone as out of shape as I am.”

“Sweetheart, I like your shape just fine.” Evidently, thinking about going all in had him going to the cheesy extreme, but the happiness singing through him and leaving his steps lighter made it impossible to give a damn.

Halfway up the trail, Violet accused his “or so” of meaning five miles. But she continued to climb at his side, her labored breaths giving him flashbacks of their sessions between the sheets.

His heart beat a heady, carnal rhythm that awakened his inner caveman.

If this night went as planned, he’d have her in that position again soon—he had a quilt in his bag, just in case. As the saying goes, better to be prepared than end up with pine needles poking your ass.

Finally, they reached the top of chimney rock. From this bird’s-eye vantage point, you could overlook the entire lake. The way Violet’s jaw dropped as she took in their surroundings affirmed he’d made the right choice in bringing her here.

She clasped a hand to her chest, awe softening her features. “It’s beautiful.”

“So are you.” Right as he was about to kick his own ass for being so sappy, a slow smile spread across her face.

Violet shot pictures while Ford spread the quilt under a nearby tree. He knelt on the fabric and poured wine into two scorch-marked camping mugs that had only ever held coffee before.

When Violet approached, he stood and exchanged one of the mugs for her camera.

The thing was heavier than it looked. He deposited his mug on a flat rock and held on to the camera extra tight, aware of how important it was to her. “Do I just point and shoot?”

“Hold the button halfway down to focus, and press it the rest of the way to take the photo, but there’s a lot more to it than just poin—”

Ford snapped a picture of her, and she cocked her head.

“I wasn’t even ready, and you didn’t let me fini—”

Click, click. That last one captured a blurry palm and not much else.

“Would you say your muse is back, then?” he asked as he surrendered the camera.

“Mostly,” she said.

A thread of worry stitched its way through his chest, the needle jab, jab, jabbing. Did that mean she might leave town soon? For some reason, he thought they’d have more time to figure everything out. “It’s because of me, right? I’m so inspiring and shit.”

“Yes. You and your handsome face”—she placed her hand on his cheek and a kiss on his lips—“and your fancy vocabulary.”

“Big talk for someone who didn’t know Shakespeare was a poet, too.” In addition to googling it, he’d memorized a line from one of the sonnets. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate.”

Violet laughed, and it bounced across the area, from rock to tree, and hit him square in the chest. Her eyes shone, and there was the goddess he’d unleashed the day in the mud. “That’s the bard? Well, don’t I feel sheepish. And honestly, most anyone’s more temperate than the Alabama sun.”

After downing the contents of her mug, Violet set it and her camera next to his backpack. Then she straightened and shook her hair out of her face. “As for my muse, I haven’t put her to the real test. So far I’ve only taken pictures for fun, not work.” She closed the distance and snaked her arms around his waist. “That’ll be the real deciding factor, and I have a couple of sessions booked—including one with Shelby and her family—so we’ll see.

“But let’s not talk about work right now.” Violet slipped her hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I’m assuming that’s not why you brought me all the way up here to enjoy this amazing view.”

She squeezed his butt, which had him hardening against her, and he could scarcely remember what they’d been talking about.

“I might’ve had ulterior motives.” He swept her hair behind her shoulder and lowered his lips to the base of her neck. As he licked and sucked that delicious spot of skin, he backed her against the tree.

With one hand braced against the trunk, he slipped the other underneath her shirt. Her soft skin contrasted the rough bark underneath his palm, and he stroked the line of her spine with his thumb as he kissed his way across her jaw.

His lips found hers in the dark, and then he was devouring her mouth between peeling her shirt up and off her. As soon as it hit the ground, he yanked her back to him, needing her skin on his once again.

He unhooked her bra and gave it a yank, exposing her to the cool night air and his heated gaze. “Damn. I keep thinking the next time I see you naked it won’t knock me on my ass, but every time it hits me just as strong.”

Pink flushed her skin.

His heart thundered.

Off in the distance, a whip-poor-will sang its song.

Ford took a moment to soak in the vision before him and revel in how lucky he was to touch this woman. To kiss her and hold her and fuck, if he let go, he could very well lose his mind over Violet Abrams.

Time slowed to a crawl as he unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans.

Violet moved to pull off his shirt as he went to tug down her pants, and they crashed in the middle. Giggles burst out of both of them, and she wobbled, her bound legs leaving her gripping him for support.

At the bite of her fingernails into his skin, his arousal pummeled the zipper of his jeans like a battering ram with one thing on its mind.

Once he freed her legs of the denim, he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Violet reached around his back, her hands exploring and massaging as she kissed the line of his jaw.

Ford skirted a knuckle along the undersides of her breasts and down the center of her stomach. Her muscles contracted under his touch, and as he neared the waistband of her panties, he lingered there, torturing the both of them.

As soon as he dipped his fingers lower, Violet arched against him, searching for his touch.

A strangled groan rasped free at how wet and ready she was for him, and she shuddered as he found the sweet spot. Their moans filled the air, desperate and needy, and relief barreled through him as Violet undid his jeans.

Now his ankles were the ones bound in denim. He guided her backward, over to the blanket. They went down in a tangle of limbs, and he crashed his mouth to hers. Using his toes, he pushed at the fabric restraining his legs.

The shift pressed his throbbing erection up against her center, and her cry of pleasure matched his growl as the friction from trying to free himself drove them both higher.

At long last, he was free, and not a second too soon. He could feel her damp heat through her underwear, and being out in the woods with patchy-at-best cover ended up being even hotter than he’d imagined.

As Violet shimmied out of her panties, his fingers groped the backpack in search of a condom.

Ford held it up like a trophy.

“Hurry,” Violet said, tugging down his boxer briefs. “I need you inside of me right. Now.”

“Your wish is my command.” He rolled on the condom and poised himself at her entrance. He dragged his swollen head over her slick flesh, teasing her and testing his willpower.

“Ford,” she whimpered.

“What?” he asked innocently.

With a snarl of frustration, she raised her hips to meet his, and he lost the ability to speak. In fact, he wasn’t sure his arms were going to be able to hold him up anymore.

Fortunately, Violet took care of that, hooking her ankles around his waist and then yanking him down so that his body covered hers, shoulder to thigh.

After a quick second to center himself, he took control. He twined his fingers through hers and brought her hands up above her head so he could revel in every inch of naked skin.

Then he plunged into her, hard and deep. His lips covered hers, swallowing her gasps as he thrust over and over.

Sweat slicked their skin, and Ford reached between them and sought the bundle of nerves that would make her squirm with pleasure.

The instant he found it, her walls sucked him deeper. He circled faster and faster, the ecstasy overtaking her features echoing through him.

Her eyes locked onto his and then went hazy as her orgasm took her.

Not only was it the hottest fucking thing he’d ever seen, a sensation he didn’t quite recognize washed through him, laying waste to every thought besides this woman and this moment.

The final thread on his control snapped, and his own release rocketed through him. He fell to the side of Violet and drew her against his chest, breathing in and out against her skin.

And as he held on to her, he had the thought that he never, ever wanted to let go.