of what-ifs. Ain’t worth the consequences if you do. Be ready in twenty.”
Without another word, he turns and walks away. I’m sure he’s heading to his wife and baby, neither have made an appearance this morning. Doesn’t surprise me. Beaumont is an early riser or more like a never go-to-sleeper, but I think he lets Hutton and Fender sleep in as much as they can in the mornings.
I want that.
All of it.
And when I get it, I’m never going to take it for granted, not a single fucking minute.
Deciding to go ahead and have him take me to Stephanie’s, I stand and make my way toward the guest room to grab my luggage. If nothing else, the air between us needs to be completely cleared.
We both need to move the fuck on.
I didn’t fly all this way just to sit around Beaumont’s nice as fuck house and stare at the swimming pool.
There are things that we need to talk about.
If that means that I go home to Gallup single, without her, then that’s what it means. But seventeen years of feeling as though there has been no closure, that the last chapter hasn’t been written yet, it ends now.
Tugging the handle up on my suitcase, I pull it behind me as I make my way toward the front door. Setting it against the wall, I turn around to see Hutton and Fender standing at the mouth of the kitchen.
“You’re going to her,” Hutton states.
I hum, nodding my head. “Don’t know what’ll happen. But we gotta talk. It’s long overdue.”
“You didn’t get your talk in when she was in Gallup?” Hutton asks, her lips curving up into a grin.
My own mouth smiles as I shake my head a couple of times. “We tried a few times, but not really.”
Hutton laughs softly and she closes the distance between us. Reaching out, she places her hand on my forearm, squeezing me gently. “It will be just fine, Ford. Trust me,” she whispers.
“Will it?”
She hums, her gaze shifting around before it lands on me. “I waited for years for Beaumont to come back to me. I didn’t know that I was waiting for him, but my heart did. There’s a reason neither one of you has settled down. I know I’ve said it, everyone has said it, but please take this from someone who has experienced it, too. You’re restless, your soul is restless because it knows where it belongs.”
I nod, unable to say anything in response to her words. She’s not wrong, not at all. In fact, she makes more sense than anyone else has. She has been through a similar experience with Beaumont, she isn’t just talking out of her ass.
If she says that this can be more than just reminiscing over the past, then I need to at least try.
Not just for Stephanie, but for myself too.
Like Hutton said, there has to be a reason that neither of us moved on and not just because of lack of closure. I can’t believe that lack of closure can keep two people in relationship limbo for seventeen fucking years.
Chapter Twenty-Three
STEPHANIE
Damion pulls up to my house and I don’t see it at first, but he does. I hear him gasp. Looking forward, I open my eyes, widening them at the sight of the man leaning against my house, next to my front door.
I want to talk to him, but I’m not ready. It’s too soon. I wanted to pick the moment, I wanted to call him, go to him. Once again, he’s ambushed me, and I hate it. He has always done this, always just been there, even when I wasn’t ready for him.
“Girlie, even in the daylight he is a sexy, broody mess.”
“I’m not ready,” I breathe.
He whistles. “I don’t think he cares, his luggage is leaning against the house, too.”
My heart starts to race. Glancing around, I look to see if there are any paparazzi cameras around. I don’t know what I would do if they caught wind of Ford, it would be a complete frenzy.
He’s just what Damion said that he was, a sexy, broody mess and the industry would eat him up, he’d be on every magazine rag and gossip website around. I know for a fact that he photographs well, too well.
“He’s looking at me,” I whisper.
Damion chuckles as he shifts the car into park. “He is, and he looks hungry, girlie.”
“Fuck,” I grunt.
“You can say that again. Oohhhh, he’s coming over here.”