Chapter 8
Amelia
I pinned my hair up in the mirror as I sighed. I was getting ready for my date with Ford and my parents were shaking with excitement. It had been three weeks since that fateful dinner, but only a week since our encounter in the living room. I wanted to hate him. I knew I needed to. The way a man treated a woman he didn’t know should be no different than how a man treated his wife. But there was something about him I couldn’t hate. Something about his personality and the way he held himself that wouldn’t allow me to hate him.
But the truth of the matter was that hating him wouldn’t change anything. Denying his dinner requests and ignoring his phone calls wouldn’t change the fact that my parents were marrying me off to this man, to secure an alliance with our pack and his clan. I could make us both miserable for the rest of our lives, or I could make this as bearable as possible. I could choose to nitpick all the things I thought were disgusting about this man, or I could choose to see whatever light in him my parents saw.
I sat at my vanity and began to put on my makeup. My mother was insistent on helping me pick out an outfit for the evening. She wanted something that would contrast the tan of my skin. A pale pink or a bright blue, or possibly even a white dress. I scoffed at all those ideas, however. I didn’t want to come off as innocent. Some perfect little treasure to put on a shelf for display. I wanted to be myself. To be my wild, unabandoned self around him.
If I was going to be attached to him forever, the least I could do was not give him any false hope as to the woman I really was.
Despite my mother’s protests, I choose a hunter green dress. It framed my chest well and had shoulders that fell down my arms. The waist was cinched and the fabric flared out, billowing around my shins before breaking into my heels. I had a close-necked pearl necklace as well as pearl studs to wear to offset the dark tones of my outfit and pinning up my hair would accentuate the length of my neck.
If I was going to have to make nice, the least I could do was knock his damn socks off.
I finished putting on the last of my makeup as the doorbell rang down stairs. Instantly, my hands began trembling. Something about him made me nervous. Something about this entire dinner made me nervous. I stood up from my vanity and slid my robe from my body, then slipped into my outfit for the evening.
Then, I was ready to go meet Ford.
I stood at the top of the stairs and listened to him talk with my parents. The three of them were laughing lowly to themselves, trying to pass the time until I was ready. My father kept apologizing for my being late, but Ford kept brushing him off. I heard things like ‘the greatest of women are never held to time’ and ‘whatever time she needs is fine’.
If he was trying to make a good impression with my parents, it was most certainly working.
I started down the stairs as my heels clicked across the floor. Everyone turned their heads to see me and my mother’s hands flew to her face. My father beamed with pride as my hand slid down the banister, my back keeping straight and my hair steady on top of my head.
But it was Ford’s reaction that caught my eye.
A sort of shock mixed with a bit of nervousness.
“Ford,” I said.
“Amelia. You look… breathtaking.”
I blushed at his words before chastising myself for it.
He hooked my arm within his and led me to his car. He opened my door for me and helped me in, then took great care in driving us to the restaurant. Never to fast but not too slow, and he kept his hands to himself.
Though something inside of me didn’t want him to.
“Where are we going this evening?” I asked.
“I thought I would give you a break from your mother’s fabulous cooking,” Ford said.
“A break, huh? Well, does this break have a name?” I asked.
“Ever heard of Gibson’s?”
“The steakhouse? Ford, I love that place. They have the best steak in town. And that includes my mother’s cooking.”
“I knew I’d choose well.”
“You’re a cocky man, aren’t you?” I asked.
“Depends on how you define ‘cocky’. I’m confident in the decisions I make and in the steps I take in my life. Is that a bad thing?”
“It is when you boast about it?”
“So, you don’t enjoy a boastful man.”
“I enjoy many things, but a man that brags is not one of them,” I said.
“Then what do you enjoy about a man?”
I looked over at Ford and found him staring at me while we sat at a red light.
“For starters, I enjoy a man that keeps my clothes intact,” I said with a grin.
“I’m sorry about that. I usually have control over my bear, but sometimes he takes the lead.”
“I understand controlling your animal, but my wolf didn’t rip anything off you.”
“Well, maybe we will see if that happens tonight,” he said with a grin. I let out a slight laugh.
“We’ll see if you are that lucky.”
We pulled up to the restaurant and it was bustling with people. But of course, Ford had a reservation. The hostess led us to a back corner where Ford pulled out my chair for me and helped me to sit down. He sat with his back to the wall and the entire restaurant in front of him. He thought he was concealing well what he was doing, but I knew. I’d grown up in this life, though my father never talked about it with me. Ford was surveying the room in case any threats came up. And with his back to the wall, he didn’t have to worry about anyone attacking him in the process.
He was a naturally protective man.
I liked that.
“How were the kids today?” Ford asked.
“Huh?”
“At work. How were the kids? You teach kindergarten, correct?”
“Oh. Yes. They were good. Excited about it being Friday. That always makes them a little crazy.”
“Does having a classroom full of children make you want children of your own? Or does it steer you away from the topic?” he asked.
My eyes connected with his as a bottle of chilled wine was set on our table. I watched him, his eyes never wavering as the waiter poured us each a glass. Then he left the wine on the table and stepped away from our quiet little corner.
“I know having children is expected of me,” I said.
“That isn’t what I asked,” Ford said.
“Does the answer to the question matter?”
“To me? It does. Your opinion and your wants and desires for your life will always matter to me, Amelia. Do you want children or no?”
I furrowed my brow as my eyes dropped to my wine glass. I settled back in my chair, relaxing as I brought the glass to my lips. My legs stretched underneath our table, the full-length tablecloth covering my lower body.
Then I felt a heat present itself at my ankles.
It was Ford’s leg. Resting solidly against mine.
Like he was trying to hold me up.
“I do want children,” I said. “But I don’t want to teach and raise children.”
“So, you want children, but simply later in life,” Ford said.
“Something like that. I want to be there for my children. I want to be the one constant in their lives they can always rely on. My mother was that for me. I want to be that for them.”
“You say ‘children’. Does that mean you want multiple?”
“I do, yes.”
“How many?” he asked.
“Three. Maybe four? I have three older brothers and growing up in a big family was a lot of fun. It came with its difficulties and my mother needed help sometimes, but I was never alone. I don’t want my children to ever feel alone in the family I create for them.”
“They won’t be.”
“There’s that confidence again,” I said with a grin.
“Doesn’t take confidence to see the dedication you’ll have to our children.”
Our children.
Ford and I’s children.
I blushed at his comment as I took another sip of my wine. He grabbed his glass and joined me as a silence poured over our table. The waiter came to take our order and I was glad to put in one. My stomach was two ticks away from whale-calling in the middle of the best restaurant in town, and the last thing I wanted to do was embarrass myself.
Which I was suddenly concerned about.
I felt Ford’s foot slowly creeping up and down my leg. I fluttered my eyes to him and smirked, but all he did was return the expression. I could feel my skin heating and my chest flushing red. I could see his eyes taking in the way he affected me, and there was something raw about being exposed to him like this.
“You really are a tease,” I said.
“Women have a tendency to enjoy that,” Ford said.
“You seem to be an expert on that topic.”
“Of women? I pride myself in understanding them.”
“Understanding them? You should write a book. You’d make millions,” I said.
“And give away all my trade secrets? That doesn’t sound like a very good deal to me.”
“You won’t need those trade secrets once you’re married. There isn’t much I expect of you, but being faithful is one of those expectations.”
I watched his face grow stern as he pulled away from my leg. He leaned over the table and set his wine glass down before his forearms rested on the tablecloth. I felt a sense of fear drape over me. It was about to happen. He was about to turn into the man I thought he was. Commanding and cold, just like he’d been that morning.
But instead, he reached for my hand.
“Out of all the things I could do to you, and out of all the things that are rightfully mine as your husband, I will never take something that you do not give me of your own free will. I will not force you to love me or make love to me. I will not force you to have children if you don’t want them. But one thing you can rest assured on is that when we are married, you are mine and only mine. Which means I am yours, and only yours. I treat what is mine with respect and honor. They deserve nothing less.”
His amber eyes were locked onto mine as my breathing began to shallow out. He spoke with a reverence I had only ever heard in my dreams. The strength in his voice and the confidence behind his words… it ignited something in me. I curled my fingers around his hand and leaned forward, then got up and pressed a small kiss to his cheek.
“You really do talk with a great deal of confidence,” I said.
And when I pulled back, I found him grinning at me.
A grin that fluttered the insides of my body.