Twenty-four

THAT AFTERNOON, CHARLIE and Tucker came over to help Ford set up for his barbecue. The annual—and semi-legendary—party, which he hosted every July, reminded him of the summer barbecues his parents used to have in their townhome, when they would clear out the garage, and family and friends would mingle indoors and outdoors, sitting on lawn chairs along the driveway and in the small front yard while the kids played kickball and ghost in the graveyard in the subdivision’s adjacent field.

Maybe it was the nice weather, or the company, but for whatever reason, his father had always been on his best behavior during those times.

This year, more than ever, Ford liked being reminded of good moments like that.

The three of them were moving his folding tables and chairs out of the storage room when his mother called his cell phone.

“I’m downstairs,” she said. Having been in the city to visit Nicole and Zoe, she’d called earlier to see if she could drop off another box with his father’s things—some photo albums he’d saved of Ford’s grandparents and great-grandparents, and a huge stack of old baseball cards.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come up?” he asked.

“Hey, Mrs. Dixon,” Charlie and Tucker called out.

“I’m sure. Tell Charlie and Tucker I said hello,” she said, having gotten to know them well in the sixteen years since they’d been Ford’s college dorm mates.

He ran down to meet his mom in front of the building, where she was waiting with her car temporarily parked with the hazard lights on.

“Your dad was such a pack rat. But maybe those baseball cards are worth something. I don’t know.” She gave him a quick smile to cover the flash of sadness in her eyes, and handed over the box of his father’s things to him.

“You don’t need to go through all his stuff yourself, Mom. I’m happy to come to the house again and help.”

She waved this off, only about the tenth time he’d offered. “I want to do it. It gives me something to do.”

Of course that was her answer. Between her job as a teacher’s aide, the second job she’d worked on evenings and weekends at Walmart for extra money after his father had injured his hand and gone on disability, and raising him and Nicole, his mother had spent the last thirty-plus years having more than enough “to do.” But she liked it that way, he’d long since realized. Once his mom rolled up her sleeves and set her mind to a task, pretty much the only thing anyone else could do was get out of the way.

“Just promise me you won’t try to move anything heavy. Save that for me.”

She gave him a semi-offended look—at five foot ten, she was hardly a petite waif of a woman—but didn’t argue. “Nicole seemed better today. Less overwhelmed.”

Nicole had told their mother the truth about Zoe’s father, and, at her doctor’s suggestion, also had joined a new-moms support group. “I think so, too. The other day, she said that—” Ford stopped mid-sentence, spotting Victoria walking along the sidewalk in their direction, carrying two bags of groceries.

So, this was . . . unexpected. It had been years since his mom had met a woman he was involved with—and, admittedly, he hadn’t been thinking he would break that habit today.

One of the inherent risks of dating a neighbor, he supposed.

Victoria saw him a moment later, and her expression immediately turned hesitant when she saw the woman standing next to him. “Hey there,” she said, with a tentative smile as she approached.

“Hey yourself.” Ford nodded at the bags she carried. “Need a hand?”

“I’m okay.” With a grin, Victoria nodded at the large box he held. “Do you need a hand?”

He chuckled. “Thanks, I think I’m good.” He saw his mother looking at him expectantly and made the introductions. “This is my mother, Maria. Mom, this is Victoria, my neighbor and—”

“The divorce lawyer. Oh my gosh, it’s so nice to finally put a face with the name,” his mom gushed, pulling Victoria in for a warm hug. “I’ve heard so much about you from Ford and Nicole.”

“Oh—thank you. That’s good to hear.” Looking surprised by the hug, Victoria blushed as she caught Ford’s eyes over his mother’s shoulder. She gave him a little smile as she hugged his mom back, as if to say, What can you do, right?

And in that moment . . . something tightened in his chest.

“I can’t thank you enough for helping my daughter and granddaughter,” his mom said to Victoria when she pulled back. “Nicole told me all about it. And Ford, too. He says you’re a very talented lawyer, and a saint to be doing all this for free.”

“A saint? Really?” Victoria turned to him, her eyes sparkling mischievously as she undoubtedly recalled his skepticism over Nicole’s use of that very word just a few weeks ago. “Ford, you are too kind.”

He shot her a look. Cute. “I’m not sure saint was the actual word I used.”

“It sure was.” His mother smiled at Victoria. “And my son is not one to give compliments lightly, so if he has such wonderful praise for you, there must . . . be something to it.” She paused, as if thinking about that, then turned to him with a curious look.

“I’m happy to help Nicole and Zoe,” Victoria said. “It’s a unique situation, so professionally this has been a nice opportunity for me.”

“You have your own firm in the city, I hear,” his mom said.

They chatted for a few moments about Victoria’s law practice, and then she held up her grocery bags. “Well, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I should probably get these upstairs, anyway. It was very nice meeting you, Mrs. Dixon.” As she turned to head inside their building, she gave him a nod in good-bye. “Ford.”

“So, that’s Victoria,” his mom said when it was just the two of them. “She seems lovely.”

Through the glass door, Ford watched as Victoria stopped at her mailbox, the one next to his. Her hair, which she wore in a long, sexy ponytail again, fell over one bare, golden shoulder as she perused her mail. “She definitely has her moments.”

“Sounds like you two have been spending a lot of time together.”

He turned his attention to his mother, just now catching her sly tone. “Some, yes.”

“Will she be at your barbecue today?”

“Yes, I invited several of my neighbors.”

“Any others who you stare at like that?” She smiled knowingly when he didn’t immediately respond. “I didn’t think so.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “You’re as bad as Brooke.”

“Brooke is a smart woman. Probably, you should listen to her about . . . well, whatever the situation is between you and Victoria.”

Not wanting to have this conversation with his mother—because there was no “situation” between him and Victoria, at least not the kind his mom was thinking—he shifted the box in his hands and kissed her on the cheek in good-bye. “I have to get back upstairs. The grill’s warming and Charlie and Tuck shouldn’t be left around open flames without adult supervision.”

His mom opened her mouth, likely to object—and then seemed to reconsider. “Too true.”

*   *   *

LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Ford made his way through the living room, where a group of die-hard fans sat watching the Cubs game and drinking beer, and out onto the terrace. The loft was packed, both inside and outside. Every year, the party seemed to get bigger, although he wasn’t quite sure where all the extra people were coming from.

He had music playing on the outdoor speakers, and unlike last year’s weather fiasco—an unexpected downpour that had driven everyone inside—it was sunny and in the midseventies. He did a quick round on the terrace, going from group to group to say hello to new arrivals and to make sure no one needed anything. Tucker manned the grill, and in addition to beer and wine, Charlie had made a tropical rum punch, supposedly “for the ladies,” that seemed to be a huge hit.

“Hey, when’s my future wife going to be here?” Tucker asked, standing at the grill with Charlie.

“Still, with that?” Ford said.

Charlie had a question of his own. “Speaking of Victoria, now that you two are hooking up, do you think you could put in a good word for me with her friends? You know, the two cute ones she was with at The Violet Hour.”

“You can put in a good word for yourself,” Ford said. “She mentioned she’s bringing her friends with her today.”

Tucker pointed with the spatula. “Ooh—I call dibs on whichever one looks hotter.”

Ford gripped his friend’s shoulder. “It’s a wonder you’re still single, Tuck. Truly.” Spotting a group of colleagues from the Trib, he headed that way. They were in the middle of a debate over the reasons for the mayor’s recent drop in approval ratings when Victoria stepped out onto the terrace.

Ford’s eyes slowly moved over her appreciatively.

She looked fantastic, wearing some multicolored sleeveless dress and killer turquoise heels that showed off those legs she liked to wrap around his waist when he was inside her. But what most caught his attention wasn’t what she was wearing. Rather, it was the white Pyrex dish she carried in her hands.

The woman had cooked for him.

He excused himself from his co-workers and made his way over to her. “You brought me a casserole. That’s so . . . neighborly.”

Victoria set it down on one of the fold-out tables. “Not a casserole. Moros y Cristianos,” she said with a flourish.

He blinked. No clue.

“Cuban rice and beans,” she explained.

He lifted up the lid and peeked. “Smells delicious. You actually made this?” He grinned when she gave him a dirty look—so much fun, pushing her buttons—and then he turned to her two friends. “I’m Ford.” He held out his hand to the woman he hadn’t met previously—Audrey, he learned—then shook Rachel’s hand in hello. “And I apologize in advance for everything my friends Charlie and Tucker might say today.”

“Speak of the devils and they shall appear,” Tucker said grandiosely from behind him.

“Starting with that,” Ford said.

After introducing themselves, Charlie and Tucker offered to show Victoria’s friends around the place and get them some drinks. As the four of them walked off, Victoria leaned in toward Ford. “Don’t worry—Audrey and Rachel will slap them around if they get out of line.”

He looked down at her. “I think Charlie and Tuck would like that. A lot.”

Victoria laughed just as Ford spotted Brooke heading over. He put his hand on the small of Victoria’s back, whispering teasingly in her ear. “That would be the blonde from my cavalcade coming this way.”

“Where’s Cade?” he asked as Brooke approached.

“Tucker talked him into manning the grill for a while.” She smiled and introduced herself to Victoria. “I hear you’re a divorce lawyer.”

Victoria looked at Ford. “Why is that the first thing everyone says? What are you telling people about me?”

“She met my mom earlier today,” he explained to Brooke.

Brooke looked thrilled to hear this. “You met Maria? Isn’t she great?”

“Oh, just briefly, out front on the sidewalk.” Victoria was quick to clarify. “It wasn’t like an arranged thing.” She smiled. “So, Ford mentioned that you’re a lawyer, too.”

And with that, she and Brooke were off to the races.

They did their lawyer thing, the two of them talking about This Funny Case and That Crazy Thing That Happened in Court with Judge So-and-So, and as it so happened, the two of them had a mutual acquaintance, some law school friend of Brooke’s who worked at Victoria’s old law firm.

Wanting to say hello to a group of new arrivals, Ford excused himself from the conversation. As he headed across the terrace, he glanced back and saw both women laughing as Victoria told some story.

First Nicole had called her a “saint.” Then his mom had described her as “lovely” and had given her a big hug. Now Brooke was hitting it off with her, too.

He sure hoped the women in his life weren’t getting the wrong idea about him and Victoria. Sure, the two of them had fun together, good conversation, and sex that rocked his world. But at the end of the day, he was the relationship layover guy and she was Victoria Slade. She had frozen eggs on standby and had made the decision, long before him, to stay out of the “happily-ever-after rat race.”

So if anyone was getting any bright ideas that this could be turning into anything serious, well . . . that would be foolish.

He paused, an odd feeling in his gut as he watched Brooke and Victoria walk over to the food table, still talking animatedly.

Yep, really foolish.

*   *   *

AFTER SEEING THE last guests out the door, Ford walked back to the terrace. Victoria leaned against the ledge, the sky behind her a striking mix of purple, orange, and gold as the sun set.

“No Nicole today?” she asked.

He rested against the ledge next to her. “She couldn’t make it work with their schedule. She and Zoe do this single moms’ playgroup on Saturday afternoons. But speaking of my sister . . . I heard you called Peter Sutter at work yesterday.”

“I did.”

Ford frowned. “You’re not going to tell him about Nicole and Zoe over the phone, are you? I assume you plan to meet him in person?”

Victoria shrugged. “I don’t know. It depends on how the conversation goes. Why?”

“Because I want to be there when you tell him.”

She laughed, as if this was the funniest thing, and then cocked her head. “Wait. You’re not actually serious, are you?”

Hell yes, he was serious. “I don’t see why I shouldn’t go—your conversations with Sutter aren’t privileged. Just consider me there as Nicole’s representative.”

“No, I will be there as Nicole’s representative.”

He moved closer, a little frustrated that she was pushing back on this. “I’m going to this meeting, Victoria. I found the guy, and I think that earned me the right to be there when he learns about Nicole and Zoe.”

“Why? So you can scowl and throw scary, no-one-messes-with-my-sister glares at him?”

That may have been part of the plan, yes. “I want to see how he reacts. Nicole is freaking out that this will make her a home wrecker, and I want to be there in case the asshole starts talking smack about her or tries laying the blame on her for getting pregnant.”

“Granted, I’m a cynic when it comes to these things. But I think there’s a decent chance that’s exactly how he’ll respond.”

“Let him try to say that about my sister to my face, then,” Ford growled.

“Wow.” Victoria gazed up at him. “Did you know the right side of your jaw does this weird twitching thing when you go into caveman protective mode?”

He gave her a look.

She smiled innocently, then clapped her hands. “Okay. So, I understand your concerns. And you’re absolutely right that I wouldn’t even be talking to Peter Sutter if it hadn’t been for the fact that you found the guy. With some key assistance from myself, mind you. But you still can’t go to the meeting, for several reasons. You can’t go because it would be unprofessional. You can’t go because your presence there, as Nicole’s brother, would likely put Sutter instantly on the defensive and that’s not good for strategy purposes. But most important, you can’t go because that’s not how I operate. I don’t bring big brothers of clients to meetings, or investigators, or henchmen of any sort. I will handle Peter Sutter, because this is what I do. And trust me when I say that if he tries to cast aspersions on my client, or shirks his responsibilities in this, he will find out very quickly just how good I am at what I do and how badly that can bode for him.”

Ford took in the heated way her eyes flashed with determination.

“What?” she asked.

The corners of his mouth twitched. “That speech was kind of hot. Seriously, I’m at half-mast right now.”

She looked up at the sky. “I don’t understand how your gender survives. All the blood drains out of your brains the minute your penises get any bright ideas.”

He laughed hard at that, and closed the gap between them. “If I agree not to go to this meeting, it’s because I trust you to take care of my sister.”

“Of course I’ll take care of your sister.” Her eyes met his, her mouth curved in a smile. “But when you agree not to go to this meeting, it’s because I didn’t invite you in the first place.”

Always so saucy.

He rested one hand on the ledge on each side of her, trapping her in. “What am I going to do with you?”

When she opened her mouth to answer—undoubtedly, again, with some saucy response—he kissed her, hot and hard. All day and evening, he’d been waiting for this moment, when it was just the two of them. Now that he had her right where he wanted her, he didn’t intend to waste another minute.

Her breath caught when he nudged her legs apart and stepped between them. He trailed his fingers up her smooth thigh and underneath her dress. “Looking at you in this dress has been torture.”

She smiled coyly. “And here I’d thought you’d like this dress.”

“Not when I can only look and not touch.” He slid his hand into her thong and cupped her possessively, making her gasp. “But I can make up for lost time now.” She was already wet for him, and that only fueled his fire. “Spread your legs a little. No one can see.” The only neighbor with a view of his terrace was, well, otherwise engaged at the moment.

When she did as he asked, he shoved the edge of her underwear aside and slid a finger inside her, stroking her slowly.

She leaned into him and swirled her tongue around his in a hot, erotic kiss. Then she broke away, arching against his hand. “God, if you don’t stop, we’ll end up doing it right here,” she panted, in a low, throaty voice.

His cock swelled as he thought about ripping her underwear off and taking her right there, hard against the terrace wall, her dress bunched up around her waist as he covered her mouth with one hand to keep the neighbors from hearing her cries.

But right then, he had other ideas.

He gave her a wicked look—after all, he’d warned her that he would make her pay. “Just remember, sound does travel in this place.”

Her eyes widened. “What are you going to do?”

In answer, he got down on his knees in front of her.

She quickly glanced around, undoubtedly confirming that no one could see them, and then gripped the ledge with her hands as he lifted her dress. Bunching the material in one hand, he used his other hand to slowly pull her underwear down to her mid-thighs.

For a moment, he just looked at her. Beautiful, so ready for him, and trembling in anticipation. Something tightened in his gut, a possessive, edgy sensation he’d never felt before. “So gorgeous,” he said in a guttural voice. “Now let’s see if you taste as sweet as you feel wrapped around my cock.”

He reached around to cup her ass in one hand and licked her.

She moaned quietly, tangling her fingers in his hair and completely giving in to him. Within minutes of using his mouth on her, her legs were shaking and he could tell she was close. Wanting to hold her there, right at the edge, he circled his tongue around her clit, then pulled back and blew on it gently.

She spread her legs wider, her underwear still mid-thigh. “Ford, please,” she begged, her voice a strained whisper.

His cock throbbed, hearing that. He loved seeing her like this, so turned on for him. Needing him. He slid two fingers in her, stroking her. “What do you want, Victoria?”

“You.” She arched her back. “God, you.”

Exactly the answer he’d wanted. He withdrew his fingers and stood up, and she immediately reached for the button on his jeans.

He groaned when she slid her hand into his boxer-briefs and wrapped her fingers around his cock. “Right here, baby? Is that what you want?” he rasped.

“Yes.” Her eyes dark and heavy lidded, she pushed his jeans and boxer-briefs down.

Fuck, it had never been like this with anyone else, this kind of urgency and need to be inside her, buried deep as he could be. He stepped back and helped her step out of her underwear, then kissed her, wanting her mouth on his as he pushed up her dress and—

He swore under his breath, the tip of his cock right at her wet entrance. “The condoms are inside.”

She groaned, then took his cock and slid it against her clit. “We need to get inside, then.”

His jaw clenched as he looked down and watched her. “Yes. Now.” Done with the teasing, he pulled his jeans up and took her by the hand and led her inside. She yanked his shirt off along the way to his bedroom, and when there, they quickly got her heels off along with the rest of his clothes. She climbed on top of him as he ripped open the condom and rolled it on. With her dress still on, and him sitting up, she took his cock and guided him to her entrance.

Then she sank down, both of them moaning as he filled her.

She went still then, gazing down at him, and something shifted deep inside him when he looked up into those beautiful brown eyes. As she began to move, he reached up and tangled his fingers in her hair. It was a slower pace, less urgent, but somehow even better and sweeter.

He smoothed his thumb across her cheek and something flickered in her eyes.

“It’s so good with you,” she breathed.

“I love being with you like this,” he murmured. Seeing her softer side, so open and vulnerable just . . . did things to him.

He grabbed her hips, guiding her in slow, smooth strokes. Their eyes never left each other, until she touched her forehead to his and said his name as she came. Her body clenched tight around him, and he groaned as he followed her over, thinking he’d never felt anything as good as this moment.

Afterward, they lay side by side on the bed, catching their breath. She looked at him and said nothing, just taking him in. With a tender look in her eyes, she reached over and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead.

He reached up and linked their fingers, and they stayed that way for a moment.

Then she took a deep breath and sat up, fixing her dress. She hugged her knees, her long hair spilling over her shoulders and legs, and then turned her head toward him.

“Think there are any of those brownies left?” she asked.

Brownies.

Right.

That was all she’d had on her mind, apparently, while he’d been lying there, thinking . . . well, he wasn’t sure exactly what he’d been thinking.

Obviously, it didn’t matter.

So he sat up and lightly kissed her shoulder. A playful gesture, nothing too serious. “Let’s go raid the fridge and find out.”

After all, the relationship layover guy and Victoria Slade didn’t do serious.

And they especially didn’t do it together.