It Must Be Your Love (The Sullivans #11)(45)

“I’ll never know how to love you the right way if I don’t also know how to be your friend, Mia.” His dark eyes were intense as he asked, “If an orgasm will get me there, you know I’d die to give you one right now. Tell me, will making you come make us better friends?”

She swallowed hard. Every time she tried to take things to a lighter place, he made sure she knew just how serious he was about wanting to be with her.

“No,” she had to be honest and tell him, “it won’t.”

“I didn’t think so,” he said softly, and then, “Do you know what will?”

It was a good question, one she hadn’t really ever thought about. But even if she did, she wasn’t sure that her brain was where the answers about friendship were going to come from. Not when her heart had always been in charge of whom she trusted, whom she loved.

So though she’d promised herself that she wouldn’t let her heart lead her down the wrong road with Ford again, she simply couldn’t fight the powerful urge to take his hand and pull him down on the blanket with her to stare up at the blue sky.

The two of them were silent for a long while, their hands linked together, as they watched the puffy white clouds slowly change shape above them. Birds flew back and forth between Douglas fir trees.

Finally, she said, “I think this might be a start.”

And when he turned to smile at her and the last pieces of ice around her heart melted away, she knew that it really was.

Chapter Nineteen

Tuesday quickly shaped up to be one of those crazy days where Mia was on the run from house to house with so little time to spare between showings that she got neither breakfast nor lunch. Not even, she thought with a whimper of longing for her espresso machine in the office’s break room, a cup of decent coffee to jump-start her motor.

A motor that was both roaring to life whenever she thought of Ford and then sputtering as she forcefully reminded herself not to repeat her mistakes by falling so fast and hard for him again. They hadn’t done more than kiss a little on the blanket in his yard, but even that had been so overwhelming to her senses that she’d ended up accepting a client’s last minute request to do an impromptu showing just to have some space away from Ford to think.

She’d tried to be rational about everything he’d done, everything he’d said since he’d reappeared in her life on Friday morning, but rational thinking had never been her forte where Ford was concerned. Plus, it was one thing when he was coming at her with straight-ahead seduction in mind. Honestly, though she wanted him like crazy, she could have discounted that.

But knowing he wanted them to be friends first?

Way to cut right through to my heart, rock star.

Still, while he’d been on her mind nearly every second since they’d parted the day before, she wasn’t at all prepared to walk through the front door of Sullivan Realty and find him sitting in the lobby, his long legs kicked out in front of him as he chatted easily with her receptionist.

“There you are.” He slowly unfurled his gorgeous body from the chair and gave her a look full of so much heat that she was pretty sure her hair was in danger of catching fire. “Got a minute?”

She didn’t know whether to laugh or yell at him for surprising her like this. Why hadn’t he called her to say he needed to meet? Not only had she just sold him a really expensive house, but they were—

She sighed. That was just what they were trying to figure out, wasn’t it? Were they ex-lovers? Budding friends?

Or more?

“Of course. Go on into my office. I’ll be there in just a second and we can talk about what you need.”

He studied her for a minute. “How about I make you a cup of coffee on my way there?”

She nearly groaned in anticipation of the caffeine-induced relief. “Please. The machine is in the break room. Orlando can show you the way.”

As soon as he disappeared into the main part of the office as if he owned the place, Betsy said, “I’m sorry, I wanted to send you a text to let you know he was here. But he insisted we wait until you were done with your showings. I think—” Her receptionist abruptly cut herself off as though she didn’t want to speak out of turn.

“I’d very much like to know what you think,” Mia told the woman she liked a great deal and trusted to deal with all incoming calls and potential clients.

“I think there wasn’t anywhere else he wanted to go. Because despite a few random walk-ins asking for his autograph when they realized who he was, I got the sense that he felt comfortable here.”

“How long has he been waiting?”

“About an hour.”

“Ford was sitting here for an hour?”

“Honestly, the time flew by. We got to talking about my kids and grandkids, and he was full of questions about local schools and Little League teams and gymnastics classes. Does he have children?”

“No,” Mia said, but as she thought about what he’d said to her when they were walking through the house he’d just bought, she added, “Not yet.”

Through the mostly glass walls of her office, she could see Ford laughing with one of her extremely star-struck employees. Orlando was doing a much better job of holding it together today, but everyone else was practically trembling with excitement. Clearly, Ford was not good for her employees’ productivity. But maybe that was okay, because his presence clearly made them all so happy.