Shock - Marie Johnston Page 0,3
having Samuel as a son-in-law. If he knew my address, I have no doubt I’d be getting floral bouquets that would make the queen of England proud. Or worse—he’d show up on my doorstep. He’s too smooth, too repentant, for me to last long against that.
Why did I agree to lunch again? As I disconnect, I avoid Ford’s stare.
“I thought you didn’t want him back.” There’s a teasing note in his voice, but there’s curiosity, too.
“It’s only lunch,” I mutter. Scowling, I buckle my seat belt. “Besides, I can’t hide from him forever. I can be a big girl and stick to my decision.”
“Promise me you’ll pour a glass of water on his crotch.”
My lips twitch. “I already did that.”
“Ice water?”
I nod.
“Good girl. Every time you want to fall under his ‘but baby, you mean so much to me’ spell, picture the look on his face when you did that.”
Samuel’s too suave to use a corny line, but Ford’s onto something. I can’t forget my ex’s face when I asked him what had happened in his office with Olivia. Precise denial turned into abject regret when I told him I’d heard everything and caught a glimpse of even more. He’d nearly broken down in front of me, dropping to his knees to beg me to hear him out.
But he was too busy brushing ice off his crotch by that point and I was walking out of the restaurant, deciding what I really wanted to be when I grew up. Attending to his political campaign, or anyone else’s for that matter, no longer held any appeal.
“I’m lunching on Saturday, too,” Ford says.
I glance at his strong profile. Even after a year of being his partner, I can’t believe he’s real. A brooding chin straight out of a Jane Austen movie. A hard body carved from granite. A nose with a slight tilt from a break when he was a teenaged lifeguard and got head-butted by a kid he was helping out of the pool. Dirty blond hair that looks as good messy as it does perfectly combed.
If Samuel had Ford’s level of good looks, I would’ve been toast.
“Your mom?” That’s the only lady Ford lunches with.
“Yep.”
“Maybe we should switch lunch dates.”
“No offense, Wescott, but the way you talk about Samuel, I’m afraid I’ll succumb to his charms.”
I laugh, mostly because he’s right. I do go on about Samuel. But he was such a big part of my life for so long and it all went south so stereotypically. “Fine. I’ll go with my lunch date and wish I were at yours.”
“Mom probably wishes you were at mine, too.”
Maggie Monroe is a gem, and I can see why Ford did what he did to help her. It wasn’t just because he’s so driven to prove he isn’t like his bio dad. That jackass stepfather of his was a piece of work too and left Maggie in such a bind when he died. She only has Ford to help her. It wasn’t like her stepchildren were going to lift a finger for her.
The radio comes to life. “Fifty-year-old male in cardiac arrest.” As the dispatcher rattles off the address and more details, I flip the lights and sirens on, glad to have something else to focus on.
Because work keeps me from remembering everything I walked away from and how much Samuel and my family are trying to pull me back.
Chapter 2
Ford
Is it possible to roll my eyes so hard they clink in the back of my head?
I scowl at one of Sunnyville’s finest firefighters as he shamelessly flirts with my partner. He’d be a good guy, and he’d be good for her, certainly better than the piece of crap that broke her heart, but does he have to try to pick her up at work?
“Mack, you got what you came here for?” I doubt Lia even suspects that Mack is being anything more than friendly. She’s oblivious to the looks the single firemen throw her way or each other when she walks by. She’s striking, I’ll give them that. I’m a little over six feet tall and she’s only a few inches shorter than me, with a defined frame that’s clear even under her unisex polo shirt and boxy pants. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her wear an ounce of makeup, but she doesn’t need it. The dazzling amber of her eyes would put any jewelry she wore to shame. Despite the fact that I’ve only ever seen her in a braid,