Page 72 of When You Stayed
The garage door slid shut behind us, and I hopped off first, pushing my helmet up.
“Can I take a shower?”
Ford released a rumble, which sounded like a laugh. “Yeah, baby, you can shower.”
I liked when he called me baby, almost as much as when he called me Rose. This version of Ford was unsettling, but in a good way. Like discovering a new language, or a new color.
Ford led the way in through the house, and flipped on lights as he went. His house was as ugly as the last time I saw it, but seeing it with him inside of it, without being angry and hurt over items he stole or the card I rejected, made it seem a little less horrible.
“I know, it’s bad.” He joked, but I caught the way his cheeks turned the slightest shade of red. I considered how ridiculous it was that this giant of a man would be embarrassed by something as simple as the interior of a house. One he owned, which far surpassed anything I had done.
Reaching for his hand, I held it there and smiled. “It’s not. I like it.”
Ford grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and then handed one to me. “You want to help me make it less ugly?”
“When you’re ready, I’d be happy to, but you should be proud of this place.”
He sipped the water and I watched the way his throat moved, and somehow found it extremely erotic. Once he was finished, he slipped out of his cut, laying it over the back of one of the chairs in his dining room. Although calling it that was a stretch.
“I’m not sure I can tell you all the things I’m ready for, Rose.”
My stomach flipped around at his confession, and instead of replying I slid my jacket off and laid it across the back of another chair. My boots went next, until I was in my white socks, wiggling my toes. Ford stared down at my feet with an expression that nearly broke me. It was gentle and cautious, as if he were nervous.
“Are you…” I wanted to ask if he was anxious, but that might reveal that I was.
He stepped closer and placed a firm hand at my hip. “Scared to have you in my house, where you’re comfortable enough to walk around in your socks? Am I nervous that you’re about to be naked in my shower?”
“Yeah,” I breathed in reply.
His forehead pressed against mine. “Fucking terrified.”
“Oh, good, then we really are in sync and shit.” I pressed my hand against his chest.
We stayed like that while we let the severity of this decision between us settle in.
“Go shower. I’m going to make you some food.”
He pressed a kiss to my forehead, then I grabbed my bag and headed for the hall. Ford’s bathroom wasn’t as horrible as I imagined it would be. It was a little dated, but clean. I found fluffy towels folded and snugly kept on the small shelf. Inside my bag held all my products, so I pulled them out while the water warmed. The pressure and temperature were perfect, and I relaxed immediately under the spray. There was something so therapeutic about not being at home. As much as I loved my family, and the protection they provided, it was a cage.
A protective shell designed from the fear of a desperate father. Fordhad given me wings, while allowing me to preserve my roots. Wild rose indeed.
The realization that I was spending the night at a guy’s house without having members of the club outside the door was suddenly a thrill inside my chest, like a match being struck. Emotion clogged my throat with a sharp burning sensation that manifested as a giggle.
Then a full-bellied laugh.
I’d finally left the shelter of the Wolf, only to be found by a man who owned a cat. Speaking of…where was Gus? I shut off the shower, and wrapped up in the fluffy towel, drying off.
Once I brushed out my hair and moisturized, I pulled on a cropped T-shirt and pair of cotton underwear. In my bag, I had shorts I could slip on, but I hesitated. Ford didn’t seem shy with me, but I really didn’t want to risk him not fucking me tonight. The kiss earlier in the day had left me aching in a way that I hadn’t ever experienced before. Sure, I hadn’t had sex in a long time, but the way Ford touched me was like a slow burn heat that coiled tightly within me, ready to burst into a wild inferno.
I hated to compare the two, but secretly, where I’d never tell anyone alive, even Connor had never made me feel the way Ford had with just a simple kiss. Inhaling a deep, steadying breath, I closed my bag and left the bathroom.
A soft glow across the hall caught my attention. It was Ford’s bedroom, with the door wide open, shades drawn shut, and a simple lamp clicked on next to his bed. He’d gotten two small nightstands on either side of his bed, and a gray feather duvet covered the mattress. I walked in with a warm buzzing in my belly, radiating against my skin as I set my bag down on his floor. I was going to sleep in Ford Ryan’s bed tonight.
Venturing back toward the kitchen, I found Ford standing with his hips facing the counter while he diced up cheese and strawberries. He’d stripped out of his white T-shirt, jeans, and even his socks.
He stood there in a pair of dark green boxer briefs. The sinewy lines of muscle that ran up his tatted arms were so mouthwatering that I couldn’t break my gaze. I tried to see as much of him as I possibly could, and yet it still felt like it wasn’t enough. He had so many tattoosI’d yet to even see or begin exploring. His abs had baby abs that I had the strangest urge to trace.
It seemed he was making us a charcuterie board, which honestly would be divine. Stepping closer, I was about to ask about it when I saw the bundle of gray curling around his ankles.
