Three Little Words (16 page)

“Do you have kids?” Linda asked.

“No. I’m divorced and we never quite got to that stage.”

“I’m sorry.” Linda’s brown eyes filled with sympathy. “That’s hard. But Ford’s very handsome.” She smiled and leaned in conspiratorially. “In a sexy, muscled, tall kind of way. If you like the type.”

Isabel grinned. “I’m finding I like the type very much.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Ford asked.

“Nothing you want to know.”

He studied her for a second. “I’m going to take your word on that.”

“Smart man.”

Although imagining the look on his face if he found out that very-pregnant Linda thought he was sexy would be kind of funny.

“You never said what you did,” Linda mentioned a few minutes later.

“My family owns a bridal shop in town. Paper Moon. As I said, I’ve been living in New York. After the divorce, I wanted to get away, so I came back to run the business for a few months.”

Linda sighed. “Oh, that must be fun. All those happy brides. You get to help them find the perfect dress. Is there drama?”

“All the time. Emotions are running high and there are often mother-daughter conflicts. One wants traditional, the other wants anything else.”

“Sounds exciting. Clyde’s in auto parts. His dad left him a struggling business and he’s turned it into a multistate distributorship. We have over twelve hundred employees.”

“That’s impressive,” Isabel told her, thinking she and Sonia had talked about hiring one other person as they started their business. Twelve hundred was unimaginable.

“He wants to bring the sales team to the retreat,” Linda continued. “To help them relate to each other a little better. Sales can be competitive and Clyde’s worried their sense of unity is getting lost.”

“Clyde sounds like a smart guy.”

“He is.” Linda smiled at her husband, then turned back to Isabel. “Except when it comes to naming our baby.”

The server returned with drinks and took their order.

Clyde passed the basket of warm rolls to his wife, then looked at Ford. “How did you two meet?”

“I used to date her sister.”

Linda raised her eyebrows. “Really? And she doesn’t mind you two are together now?”

Isabel held up both hands. “There has been a lot of space and time,” she said. “Ford and my sister were engaged fourteen years ago. I was desperately in love with him, but he didn’t bother to notice.”

“My mistake,” Ford said lightly. “Maeve and I were way too young. A few weeks before the wedding, she realized her mistake. Because I was still a kid, I pouted. I left town in a huff, joined the navy. I got out a few months ago, returned home and we opened CDS.”

Isabel realized he’d given all the facts, yet kept many of the details private. She liked how he didn’t tell Clyde and Linda about Maeve cheating with Leonard.

He leaned toward her and grinned. “Isabel wrote me. A lot.”

She laughed. “Like I said, I was fourteen and had a mad crush on him. I wrote and wrote.”

“That’s so romantic,” Linda told her.

“Not really. He never wrote back.”

“Not once?” Clyde asked.

Ford shrugged. “There were a lot of reasons. But I enjoyed getting her letters.” His smile faded. “I was a SEAL. We had some tough missions. Reading about Isabel being a normal teenager in high school helped. She was a little wild in college, though.”

She pushed him. “Don’t spill all my secrets the first night.”

He grabbed her hand and lightly kissed her knuckles. “I would never do that.”

“Then what happened?” Linda asked eagerly. “You came back, took one look at her and realized she’d been the one all along?”

“Something like that,” Ford admitted.

Just words, Isabel told herself. It wasn’t true, but it sounded good for company. Still, she found herself wishing he was telling the truth. That he
had
taken one look at her and had known they belonged together.

Foolishness, she thought. She and Ford were only pretend-dating. None of this was real. She was passing through town and he was a guy who didn’t know how to be in love. They didn’t belong together.

Sure, the kisses had been great and she was looking forward to more. She liked his company and enjoyed seeing him. They shared a sense of humor, and she had the sense that if she needed him, he would be there, but that was different. They were friends and their relationship was something they’d created to fake out the world.

* * *

“Y
OU
DID
GREAT
tonight,” Ford said as he drove through the quiet streets of town.

Isabel leaned against the door and drew in a breath of cool air. She’d had just enough wine to give herself a slight buzz. She wasn’t going to start singing anytime soon, but if she started giggling, she might have trouble stopping.

“I had a good time. I thought you and Clyde would talk a lot of business, but you didn’t. They’re a fun couple.”

“I agree.” He glanced at her. “You’re a fun girlfriend.”

“Thank you. Except for this car, you’re a really good boyfriend.”

He pulled into her driveway and parked. “I love my Jeep. Do not mention the flames.”

She opened her door and stepped out. “Admit it. They’re starting to embarrass you just a little.”

He came around and put his hand on the small of her back. “Never. They represent my lost youth.”

“If these flames are your lost youth, you need to go out and find it.”

They reached her back door. Ford turned the door handle and sighed. “When are you going to start locking your door?”

“This is Fool’s Gold. Nothing bad is going to happen.”

“It could.”

“Oh, please.” She brushed off his comment. “You want to come in?”

“I am in.”

“Okay.” She kicked off her shoes and walked barefoot across the hardwood entryway. “That’s always the best part of the evening. Even the heels that start out comfortable usually end up hurting by the end of the night. There’s math involved. An inverse relationship between how gorgeous the shoes are and how much they hurt my feet.”

She dropped her purse on a small table in the hall and started toward the living room. Halfway there, she paused.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

Ford shrugged out of his suit jacket and hung it on the coatrack by the door. His tie followed. He toed out of his shoes and then walked toward her with an air of determination that made her tummy get all fluttery.

“You have this strange look in your eye,” she murmured. “It’s predatory.”

“That’s how I’m feeling.”

She swallowed against her suddenly dry throat. She wasn’t nervous, not exactly. If she had to define the tingle in her body, she would say it was anticipation.

He reached for her and she sidestepped him. “We have to talk first,” she said.

One eyebrow rose. “I’m not that interested in conversation.”

“Still, it’s necessary. Before we do, you know, the sex thing.”

His mouth twitched. “The sex thing?”

“Uh-huh. Because that’s where this is going.”

He shifted so he was leaning against the wall. “Good to know. What do we have to talk about?”

This was not the best time for her head to be fuzzy, she thought, sure she had a comprehensive list memorized but unable to recall it that second.

“I’m on the pill,” she began. “I like having my periods regulated, and my doctor said it was safe for me to stay on it after my divorce.”

“I brought condoms. We’ll still use them.”

“You
planned
this?”

“I was optimistic. Besides, I’m a SEAL. It’s my job to be prepared.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I thought that was the Boy Scouts.”

“Them, too. What else?”

“I don’t think I’m doing it right,” she admitted. “The sex thing. If I was good in bed, Eric wouldn’t be gay.”

“You don’t have that much power.”

“It wasn’t very good with Billy, either.”

“Or the hordes?”

She sighed. “Right. Him, too. I think it’s me. That I’m not—” She waved a hand up and down the front of her body. “Maybe there are parts missing or something.”

He straightened. “Is that it?”

“Don’t you want to talk about the parts?”

His gaze drifted over her body. “I would love to, but not in the way you mean.” He took a step toward her. “Because if that’s all, I’d like to get started.”

She scurried back a couple of steps. “No, that’s not all. You can’t undress me.”

“Is this an Amish thing?”

“Amish? What do the Amish have to do with anything?”

“I don’t know. Why can’t I undress you?”

She felt herself flushing. “What do you know about SPANX?”

Now it was his turn to look startled. “You want me to spank you?”

“No! Of course not. Jeez. Not spanking. SPANX. It’s...” She sucked in a breath. “It’s shape-wear. You can’t take it off me. It’s not sexy and you’ll probably hurt your back. I’m not this skinny naturally. I have to take it off myself or you won’t want to have sex with me.”

Was he being stupid on purpose or was this a guy thing?

“Just go in the bedroom and wait,” she told him. “I’ll take care of this myself and join you.”

“No way. You’re not taking care of anything yourself. Besides, if we’re talking underwear, I want to watch.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I
SABEL
HAD
NOT
PLANNED
to relive the granny-panty scene from
Bridget Jones’s Diary
ever, but here she was, having her own humiliating moment.

“But I could be almost naked,” she told Ford. “With almost no work on your part. Isn’t that nice to think about?”

“I like the work.” He both looked and sounded confused. “Isabel, I’ve been with my share of women. There’s not very much I haven’t seen.”

“Yeah, well, you haven’t seen this!”

Before she could come to her senses, she undid the hooks holding the wrap dress in place and let the silky garment fall to the floor. She stood in front of him wearing her beige shape-wear that went from the scoop-neck top to midthigh.

“It’s a slip,” he said.

She put her hands on her hips and momentarily enjoyed how narrow and firm they felt. Of course, all that was going to change when she wrestled her way out of the SPANX.

“It’s more than a slip. It’s practically magic. But that’s not the point. There’s no way you can get this off me. So I’m going to go into the bathroom and take it off—”

She wasn’t aware of him moving, but one second she was talking and the next she was in his arms and he was kissing her.

It was a good kiss. All lips and tongue. Her determination melted along with the rest of her. She wrapped her arms around him and hung on. He touched her hair, her jaw, then dropped to run his fingers along her spine.

He straightened and looked her up and down.

“Just let me go to the bathroom and I’ll—”

Ford reached for the straps over her shoulders. He pulled them down her arms. The garment peeled away, over her breasts, her waist, her hips and ended up in a rolled circle at her feet. She stepped out of it.

“Problem solved,” he announced, his voice filled with satisfaction. “Anything else?”

Aside from the fact that he was fully dressed while she was standing there in a bra and very brief panties?

“Uh, not really.”

“Good.”

He nudged her toward the hall. She started walking, aware that he was unbuttoning his shirt as he went. His pants were lost in the doorway, and by the time they reached the bed and she turned around, he was naked. Completely naked.

Isabel stared at the broad shoulders, smooth chest and narrow waist. He was all muscle, with chiseled planes and sculpted lines.

“I welcome comparisons,” he told her.

She laughed. “Fine. Eric was much thinner and shorter than you. Billy had a similar build, but wasn’t as muscled.”

“And the horde?”

“I don’t really remember.”

“Hordes usually make a bigger impression,” he said, reaching for her and drawing her close.

She knew there was some funny reply, but what with being pressed against his naked body, she couldn’t think of it. Not when she didn’t know where to put her hands. There was so much bare skin. And his erect
penis
was pressing against her belly in a very suggestive manner.

“Relax,” he murmured, pressing his mouth to her jaw and then moving it down her neck.

“Relaxing isn’t my strong suit. Not during...you know.”

He raised his head. “‘You know’? That’s your euphemism?”

“Do you have a better one?”

He nipped her earlobe. “About a dozen. Why are you nervous?”

She found it difficult to think with him kissing her like that. Everywhere he touched, she felt both heat and little sparks. They moved through her, settling in her breasts before heading south. She wanted to squirm—not to get away but to get closer.

He moved his hands up and down her back. With each pass, his fingers dipped lower. She found herself anticipating him touching her butt, which was strange, but she was going to go with it.

“Isabel?”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you nervous?”

“We’re going to have sex. I’m not very good at it.”

The words came out involuntarily and she winced. Ford raised his head and looked at her.

“You mentioned that and I don’t believe it.”

“Nice of you to say, but you have no actual proof. I don’t think it was good with Billy.”

“Your first time and not your fault.”

“And it wasn’t very fun with Eric.”

His dark gaze never wavered. “The being-gay thing could have something to do with that.”

“I don’t like it that much.”

He put his hands on her shoulders. “Let’s find out why.”

Before she could figure out what he had in mind, he’d basically removed her bra and was sliding her panties down her legs. The man worked quickly. She didn’t even have time to get embarrassed.

When she was as naked as him, he moved her to the bed and had her lie down. He settled next to her. He leaned over and lightly kissed her.

“You like the kissing,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Then we’ll do that.” He shifted closer and settled his mouth on hers. He kissed her slowly, moving his lips against hers before slipping his tongue inside.

Uncertainty faded and she wrapped her arms around him. As their tongues tangled and her blood moved a little faster, she moved her hands up and down his back. She could feel his muscles moving underneath his skin. He was so wide through his shoulders, she thought. Then his back narrowed as she got closer to his waist.

He broke off the kiss to trail his mouth down her throat to her collarbone. He placed one of his hands on her belly, which made her tense. But then he kept it there, just moving in a slow circle. She could handle that, she told herself.

His mouth eased closer and closer to her breasts. She found herself thinking about him kissing her there. A little jolt zipped from her breasts down her middle to between her thighs. A jolt that caused her breath to quicken.

His mouth settled over her nipple and he drew on it. The jolt returned, stronger this time, creating a direct line from her breast to that place between her legs. The place that had, honestly, never been all that special.

He raised his head. “Yes? No?”

“It’s nice.”

He chuckled. “You’re not easy. I like doing this. Do you mind if I keep at it for a while?”

“No.”

He moved from breast to breast. Licking, sucking. She felt trapped in her own skin, kind of hot and cold at the same time. She raised her hands to his head and ran her fingers through his hair. Her legs moved against the cool sheets.

The hand on her belly moved. Slowly, he shifted it across her stomach until his fingers dipped between her thighs. She parted her legs instinctively, knowing what would happen next. He would rub her there a few minutes, then assume the position. Once he was inside, she would make those noises guys seemed to like and then he’d come and then it would be over.

She turned her head, trying to see the clock. If it didn’t take too long, she could still watch a movie on pay-per-view.

He explored her gently, sliding over her clitoris before easing a finger inside her.

“You’re wet,” he murmured.

Not surprising, she thought. It wasn’t that she didn’t
like
what he was doing. It was just...so what? Yes, it felt nice for a while, but then she wanted it to be over. Why did it have to take so long?

He began to rub her center. As he did that, he shifted so they were kissing again. She was aroused, she thought, frustrated. She usually got aroused. But then it went nowhere. He continued to kiss her as his fingers moved against her center. She liked what he was doing—liked the warmth flowing through her, the tension. She wanted to push or strain, and as need built inside her, she started to feel uncomfortable. Not physically. She wasn’t sure how. Maybe in her head?

She just wasn’t that woman, she thought grimly. The one who threw herself on the bed and breathed, “Take me now!” Sex was fine. This was better than it had ever been, but still, she didn’t understand what—

“I can hear you thinking from here,” Ford said, shifting so he rested his head on his hand, his weight supported on his elbow as he faced her.

“My brain doesn’t turn off.”

“I can tell.” He lightly traced her breast, his finger slipping over her tight nipple.

A shiver rippled through her.

He did it again and she shivered again.

“Count backward from a thousand,” he told her. “In threes.”

“What?”

“I want your mind busy so it can’t freak you out.”

“I’m not freaked out. I’m totally calm.” She reached over and put her hand on his hip. His erection strained toward her. He was going to fill her completely and that would feel nice.

“It’s your turn,” she murmured. “Let’s do that.”

“I don’t think so.” He rolled onto his hands and knees, then slipped between her thighs. Although he loomed over her, he didn’t try to enter her. “A thousand, nine hundred ninety-seven...”

“Fine. It’s a stupid idea. Nine hundred and ninety-four.”

“Close your eyes and count.”

She did as he instructed. She didn’t know why he was making such a big deal of this. Not everyone felt the earth move every time. Or ever. She was okay with that.

“You counting?”

“Yes,” she lied and turned her attention to the numbers.

Ford leaned down and took her nipple in his mouth. He’d done that before and it was still nice. She liked the way his tongue swirled and teased. When he lightly bit down, her breath caught and she lost her place. Nine hundred and forty-something, she thought. Seven. Forty-seven. Only seven wasn’t divisible by three, so that wasn’t right.

He kissed his way down her belly. She giggled as his breath tickled, then caught her breath as he circled her belly button. Two, she told herself. Nine hundred and forty-two. Nine hundred and thirty-nine. Nine—

He went lower and lower, until his fingers lightly parted her and he pressed his tongue against the very center of her.

Her eyes flew open as he moved against her core. Moved in a way that made it impossible to count. It wasn’t so much the pressure, she thought as her eyes slowly closed. Or the speed. It was the combination. Over and over that single swollen knot of nerves. Around and over. Her skin got hot and felt a little tight. The bottoms of her feet burned. She ached in the strangest places, and when she tried to figure out if she was breathing, she realized she was almost panting.

He didn’t go faster or slower. Instead he kept moving his tongue against her. She was caught in the sensations flowing out from that single point. The world completely faded and she wanted to beg him not to stop, only she couldn’t speak.

There was something just out of her reach. She could feel it getting closer, but she didn’t know what to look for, what to feel, what to—

He slipped a finger deep inside her. Instantly her muscles clamped around him. He withdrew and pushed in two, then curled them slightly, stroking her from the other side. Rhythm matched rhythm. She could almost see it. Could almost.

Pure liquid pleasure rushed through her. It claimed her, every cell, every thought. She no longer existed except through the shuddering sensations rocking all of her. She got the falling reference and the wave one. Either worked. She lost herself in the amazing response of her body, letting herself become little more than a floating entity.

Ford continued to touch her, slowing the contact until the last ounce of her release faded. Isabel lay there on the bed, both thrilled and embarrassed.

How on earth had she missed that for the past twenty-eight years? Or even ten? What on earth had she been doing wrong? And when could she have her next orgasm?

She opened her eyes and saw Ford smiling down at her. He looked like a man who had taken on the biggest supervillain ever and won.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, unable to keep from smiling. “You’re amazing and you can be as smug as you like.”

He grinned. “So you came.”

“Yes.”

“For the first time ever.”

She laughed. “Yes.”

“Because of me.”

“Because of you.”

Then he wasn’t grinning. He touched her cheek. “I’m glad.”

“Me, too.” She raised herself on her elbows. “Do you think I can come with you inside?”

“Let’s find out.”

He had to get up and go find his pants. She enjoyed the view of his muscled body first from the back, then from the front. He slipped on the condom and knelt between her thighs. But instead of pushing inside, he took her hand in his.

“Do this,” he said, settling her fingers on that still-swollen center.

She pulled her hand away. “I can’t touch myself.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s... People don’t.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Seriously? ‘People don’t’? That’s your reason?”

“
I
don’t.”