It Must Be Your Love (The Sullivans #11)(75)

“Mmm.” She closed her eyes to appreciate his culinary skills...and the feel of his deliciously hard body beneath hers. “So good.”

He pushed another piece against her lips and she opened to take it in, and then a few seconds later, the next one he offered her. Soon, they settled into the sexiest breakfast in history, with both of them eating off the same fork, half of each piece of waffle going into her mouth and half into his. And yet, beneath the endless desire she had for him, was something even sweeter than the syrup he’d been so liberal with. She felt his love not only in the way he touched her, in the way he wanted so badly to give her pleasure, but also in how he wanted to make sure she was well fed and happy.

She wanted all the same things for him...wanted more than anything to know that he was happy.

“I can’t wait to see your show tonight.”

He popped another bite of waffle into her mouth. “The last time you were in the audience, I gave the best show of my life.” He grinned as he bent forward to lick a drop of syrup from her chin. “You’ll never know how happy I am that you’ll be there for my last big show. I’m planning on blowing the doors off for you tonight.”

Last night, this morning, had been fairy-tale perfect. Not just the amazing sex, but knowing that Ford loved her as much as she loved him. But now, as he spoke about giving up his touring for her, all of the worries she’d told herself it was okay to push away for a little while longer rose up inside of her. “Ford—”

But before she could express her concerns, he was saying, “I wished you were in the audience a thousand times, Mia. Hell, for months after we split up, I kept thinking I saw you in the crowd. But I knew better, knew you would never be out there.”

“Actually,” she said as she decided it was long past time to come completely clean with him, “while you’re right that I wasn’t in the audience at any of your live shows, I might have watched a couple of your performances that were streamed over the Web.”

She could still remember how much it had hurt to see him again, how impossible it had been for her to stop looking at her computer screen. And, despite how badly he’d hurt her, she’d been helplessly spellbound by his performance.

At his look of surprise, she said, “You’re amazing on stage. I’ve never seen anyone sing a song the way you do, with your heart and soul in every note, every line. Even when I told myself I couldn’t stand the sight of you, I couldn’t look away...and I couldn’t stop falling even more in love with you.”

He kissed her once, twice, then again and again until all the other things she’d been planning to say to him about not feeling right that he was giving up his passion for her spun right out of her head. Only the sounds of their simultaneously ringing phones could have brought them up for air.

“Speaking of shows,” she gasped as she worked to get her breath back, “I’ll bet that’s Carol wondering where you are.”

“And Orlando reminding you of all the people who need you to find them the perfect home today. Which means I should probably let you go, shouldn’t I?”

“I guess so.” She wrapped her arms even tighter around his neck, even though he was right that she had a handful of very important showings scheduled that day. “Although now that I’m done with breakfast, I do need to take a shower. You know, a little soap,” she teased as she thought back to their super-sexy shower on his tour bus in Oregon, “a little shampoo.”

Less than a heartbeat later, he was pushing back from the table and carrying her out of the kitchen and into the large and luxurious master bathroom. “I almost can’t believe I’m going to finally get to watch those bubbles roll down over your naked skin.”

“Those waffles you made us for breakfast were so good,” she said as she looked up at him with a grin that promised to match his wickedness from their lovemaking earlier that morning, “I may even let you watch even more than that.”

His groan—and then his kiss—told her exactly how much he liked that plan.

* * *

By that afternoon, when Billy let him know that Mia had arrived at the back entrance to the stadium, Ford felt like he’d been waiting forever for her to show up. He was surrounded by his crew and Natasha and her cameramen, but when Mia walked in wearing that little silver dress, everyone but her instantly ceased to exist.

“Mia.”

He had to kiss her once, twice, and then again a third time before he could even begin to pull himself together. He was so proud of being able to finally call her his girlfriend as he introduced her to everyone...but at the same time, it nearly killed him to have to wait any longer to be alone with her again after the endless hours he’d endured without her since this morning.

Natasha’s grin was that of a triumphant matchmaker, and all the guys in his band and crew were giving him a “way to go, man,” look. But the second she shook the hand of his last crew member, he made the world’s crappiest excuse for dragging her into his dressing room, and didn’t give a damn that everyone knew exactly what the two of them were about to do.

He was a rock star, wasn’t he? Might as well live up to the hype for once in his life and do something dirty in his dressing room...especially when he had the prettiest, sexiest woman in the world to do it with.

As soon as they stepped into the small dressing room and Ford locked the door behind them, Mia made a beeline for his guitar. She ran her hand over it, admiring its curves and hollows, then picked it up from the stand and lifted it over her head.