Chapter 13

Haylee

“Thank you for the lovely evening, Dante,” I say, walking close to the man as we saunter through the lobby of his luxurious hotel. Everywhere I look, I see opulence and sophistication. I feel like I’ve stepped into a mystical fairyland, one where I’m finally the queen.

I can’t remember when I enjoyed a meal more. The food melted across my tongue in an explosion of flavor. And the wine…the best I’ve ever had, hands down. Dante had made a show of ordering a different bottle for each course from the sommelier, and I didn’t offer any protest. Instead, I indulged for the first time in a very long time without a second thought. I didn’t even call Judy both times that I went to the restroom. For my first date in years, I’ve done well, and I’m really proud of myself.

We stop by a bank of slot machines outside the restaurant, and he takes my hand in his, dwarfing mine with the size of his massive palm. I feel the strength there, the power. He could snap my body in two if he wanted. I try to ignore that the main reason I like him is because he’s so different than Ford. They’re polar opposites. I wonder if my desire to rebel is driving some of my fledgling attraction to the man.

“It doesn’t have to end now, my dear,” he says, rubbing the inside of my wrist. My pulse hammers and I know he feels it. I haven’t felt like a woman first and a mother second in so long I can’t even remember the last time. “We could have dessert somewhere. Hit a club. Whatever you’d like.”

I think about Atlee and Judy. I hope the older woman isn’t tied to a chair with Wonder Woman’s lasso. Even though I’ve enjoyed myself, I really need to get home and relieve her. I hate feeling like I’m taking advantage of someone else’s kindness and Judy has helped me out of so many jams since I’ve known her, I’ve lost count. There are far too many tallies on my side of the scoreboard.

“I really should be going home,” I say, taking my hand from his and feeling a slight sense of loss. I’m warming to the idea of being viewed as a woman.

“I really want you to stay,” he says, looming over me and moving to stand between me and the exit. Something about the action doesn’t sit well. After Ford’s lecture, I’m begrudgingly watching his actions to see if they line up with his words. Even though the tone of his voice is smooth as silk, his body language is imposing. Aggressive even. A shiver crawls up my spine, and my eyes dart around the casino, searching for the nearest escape route in case I should need it.

“I’m afraid I can’t stay because I need to relieve my babysitter.” I drop that little bomb down on our peaceful evening, knowing now that I really do want the evening to end. Having a child is my ace in the hole, and I’m going to play it.

His eyes narrow, and I see a flash of anger so brief, I wonder if I really saw it at all. He masks his emotion so quickly, it’s like taking a master class in manipulation. “You have children?”

“I have a seven-year-old daughter,” I say, nodding. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.

“I see,” he says, closing the gap between us and taking my face between his hands. My stomach flips over. He’s going to kiss me, and I don’t want him to. The thought of kissing a man so soon after kissing Ford makes my skin crawl. Dante leans in, and I get a whiff of his expensive cologne that will be forever burned into my brain and not in a good way. My body stiffens. Should I run, try to break free?

Ding! Ding! Ding!

“Holy shit! Some lucky dude just one the hundred thousand dollar jackpot!” A man at a nearby slot machine hits the collect button, grabs his ticket as he jumps from his seat and trots off to join a huge crowd that’s gathered around an Austin Powers slot.

“That’s not supposed to happen,” Dante mutters. He’s displeased, and I’m not sure if it’s because our almost kiss didn’t happen or because his wallet’s about to get six figures lighter. I trail after him as he moves into speak to the big winner.

“You!” he screams, pointing at some young guy in a 49s baseball cap. “You cheated!”

His fists tighten as he literally shakes with anger. I’ve never seen a scarier sight, and in that moment, I realize the accuracy of Ford’s warnings because I can see what the man’s capable of doing.

Everything.

The slot machine attendant writing on a slip of paper glances up and her eyes widen, as does the eyes of the UPS guy standing beside her.

“Stop writing this instant.”

Dante’s voice is so infused with ice, it could cause frostbite on my ears. The guy in the 49s hat pats the UPS dude on the back. “He won it fair and square, asshole, and I’m a fucking billionaire many times over. Don’t accuse any of us of cheating.”

I’d know that voice anywhere because it’s haunted my dreams since I turned sixteen. He stands, looming over Dante’s six feet with a few extra inches of his own.

“Get the fuck out of my establishment and don’t you ever come back here again.”

We’re innocent bystanders in the middle of a stand-off of epic proportions, and the crowd holds its collective breath. My money’s on Ford. I’ve never seen him so amped up with the courage of a thousand caped heroes. It’s hot. He’s hot. I’ve never wanted him more because I know why he’s here, risking everything. He’s here for me.

Ford’s fingers lace with mine, and I don’t stop him. I hold on tight as if we’re on a roller coaster and inching up the incline toward the first mile long drop. He’s got my back.

“Gladly.”

Ford gives a tiny tug, and I propel forward, the electric magnetism between us pulling me so close that I’m almost flush with his back. I’ve never seen him so casually dressed and with a ball cap covering his thick head of hair. His sneakers squeak on the marble floors as we hightail it out of there, Troy leading the way.

“Way to draw a crowd,” Troy says once we’re safely in the VIP parking lot. He stops in front of a shiny black Bentley. I’ve never seen one in real life before, and I stare at the vehicle as if it might grow teeth and bite me. No way am I getting inside that thing. What if I do something to it? A door ding probably costs four figures to fix.

“Wow,” I say, hissing low under my breath and staring. “Nice ride.”

I don’t mention about how Ford just announced to the entire world that he’s a billionaire. That concept blows my mind, and I can’t even wrap my thoughts around it. I’m usually late on at least a few bills every single month. Ford could buy and sell my tiny house thousands of times over. The magnitude of it stuns me.

“It’s not mine if that’s what you’re thinking,” he says, opening the door for me to slide in the front next to him. “Although it could be if you like it.”

“Hey, dipshit,” Troy says, waving goodbye. “I see a taxi, and I’m going to grab it. Don’t let me rain on your parade.”

He’s leaving us alone.

“Why’s he running away?” I ask, knowing the answer but I want to press him for some strange reason. I want to hear him say it. That he wants me in the same way that I want him.

“I should think it’s obvious.” He grins and gives me a sexy wink. “He wants me to be able to savor my knight in shining armor moment. Who knows? I might never get another opportunity to save a woman’s honor by winning a hundred thousand dollar jackpot inside my rival’s casino at a million to one odds and giving it to a hard working guy who probably needs it.”

It might be a million to one that we could ever have a future as a couple. I think about the implications of those kind of odds. I’d never take that bet and neither would he.

“Did you follow me?” I ask.

His hand tightens on the door he holds open for me. “Yes, and I’m not going to say I’m sorry. When I talked to you on the phone tonight, you sounded like you really believed that Giovanetti was a stand-up guy. I hope now that you can see the volatility beneath the calm veneer. You could do better, Haylee.”

“You mean that I could be with you.”

“No, that’s not what I meant at all,” he says, scrubbing a hand down his face and over his shadow of beard growth. I hear the raspy sound, and it makes me want to reach out and touch him so I can feel the friction against the sensitive skin of my palm. I put my hand flush against my dress and wait, ignoring every impulse inside me. Because everything inside me says to throw myself at a man who never wanted me enough in return to stay and see things through to their rightful conclusion. “I know that what I did is unforgivable. I know how much you hate me because you’ve made it perfectly clear. Just please, on this subject, give me the benefit of the doubt. I truly only want what’s best for you, and he’s bad news.”

I sigh and wonder how two people miles apart can ever inch closer toward one another. If it’s even possible after years have passed, widening the emotional gap into a gorge. After Ford slips inside next to me, I snuggle into the plush seats and glance at his stiff profile. He’s so handsome, he still takes my breath away. The only physical changes I see in him are for the better. Maturity looks good on Ford Caldwell.

He navigates the car onto the strip, onto the I15 and then into my driveway in silence. He gets out, trots around and opens the door for me. To any outsider looking in, he’s the perfect gentleman, escorting his date to her door. Except for one minor issue. I’m in a cocktail dress, and he looks like he just left Gold’s Gym. Not that I mind, I’m just used to him wearing an armor of fancy clothes that effectively keep everyone at arm’s length. I’m digging this casual version.

After turning the key in the lock and shoving the screen door open, I notice a note attached to the entrance door, and I snatch it up before Ford can see it. Atlee wanted to play with Judy’s dog, Fancy, a Yorkshire terrier, so she took her home to spend the night at their house and have ice cream with John, her husband. My empty house looms in front of me. I could ask Ford to stay. I want to ask him to stay.

Please, please stay.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers. I still, wondering if I even heard it or if those words are some cruel and twisted figment of my aching ovaries. Heat rises between our two bodies, his front flush with my back. His cock strains between us and my pussy clenches and floods with moisture. All I can think about is Ford Caldwell.

I reach behind my body and stroke him through the fabric of his sweatpants, taking what I want. His hiss of breath makes me bolder, and I delight in the hard length of him straining toward my caressing hand, pulsing with an energy I can’t explain. We stay like that for tortured moments, and I don’t turn around. I won’t. Because if I do and I see anything other than desire for me in his eyes, anything that reeks of pity, I’ll lose my nerve.

His lips reach my neck, and I jerk at the sensation. Then, my stomach free falls off a cliff.

“Haylee, can we go inside?” His raspy voice reaches my ears, and it’s like a verbal caress. He bumps his erection into my ass, and I grind against him. “Please?”

The pleading word is my undoing, and I shove forward, finally turning and ending up in his arms. It feels good, right.

It feels like coming home.