Three Little Words (Fool's Gold #12)(91)

“I’m fine,” he said. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

Leonard pushed up his glasses and glared at him. “I’m not here about you. I’m here because of Isabel.”

Ford did his best not to wince at the name. Hearing it made him think about her, which made him ache. Not that he’d been able to forget her for even a second, but still.

“You’re walking away from the best thing that ever happened to you,” Leonard told him. “Being a part of something important—a family—is what life’s about. You could marry her, be a father. Why would you ever want to turn away from that?”

Ford studied the man. Leonard was telling the truth as he knew it. For him, Maeve and the kids were everything. Ford respected that, even if he would never have it for himself.

“You have a real chance with Isabel,” Leonard continued. “But it’s not just her I’m worried about. Maeve isn’t happy.” Leonard puffed out his chest. “I’m willing to do anything to make Maeve happy.”

Ford straightened in his seat. He believed Leonard. Love gave a man courage where he didn’t have a right to any. Leonard would take him on because it was the right thing to do.

“You’re a better man than I’ll ever be,” he said, rising. “But I’m not going back.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not like you. You’re right. What I have with Isabel is more than I deserve. She’s my fantasy come to life. She’s adorable and funny and sweet, but I don’t love her. I can’t. I’ve never been in love with anyone. I just don’t have whatever it takes to have those feelings.”

“That is such crap.” Leonard’s expression turned pitying. “Seriously? Is that the best you can do?”

“It’s true.”

“It’s not true. You’re capable of love and a whole lot more. You’re not emotionally stunted. Look at your loyalty to your team. You would have died for them.”

“Yeah, but that was different.”

“Not the principle. What about with your mother? You were willing to do anything not to have to hurt her feelings. You love her. You love your family.”

“You’re not getting it. How you love a woman is different than how you love a family.”

“No, it’s not. The sex is different, but the love is the same. It’s giving of yourself, wanting them to be happy. It’s doing the right thing and showing up every day. If you can love one person, you can love Isabel.”

Ford wanted to believe him. If only it were that easy. “I haven’t had a serious relationship since Maeve,” he admitted. “There have been plenty of women, but I haven’t wanted to be with any of them more than a few days, maybe a couple of weeks. They tried to convince me, but I wouldn’t have it. I walked away every time.”

Leonard patted him on the shoulder. “That’s because you were falling for someone else. The letters. Isabel’s letters. You couldn’t fall for those women because you were already in love with Isabel. All this time, she’s been the one. You came home for her. That’s why you picked her to have a fake relationship with. You figured it was the closest you could come to the real thing, and you wanted that with her. It’s been Isabel the whole time.”

Ford’s first instinct was to crush Leonard like a bug. His second was to take a deep breath and figure out if he could be telling the truth.

Was it really that simple?

* * *

ISABEL FINISHED CLEANING the kitchen. Sadly, that was what her Sunday afternoon had been reduced to. She knew she could call one of her friends and go do something, but she wasn’t in the mood for company.

The party Friday night had helped a lot. The hangover had been a distraction, too, but mostly she’d been reminded of the love and support she had in town.

She started the dishwasher, then sat down at the kitchen table with a pad of paper. Now that she was staying, she needed to make a list of all the things she had to do. For one thing, her parents were due back in a few weeks. She adored them but seriously wanted her own place. She’d already mentioned taking over the store during their last conversation and they’d been thrilled. Which meant she needed to move forward with getting an estimate on what the renovations would cost.

There was a meeting with a lawyer to draw up partnership papers with Taryn and contracting with all her designers. Maybe even find a few new ones. A thousand things to keep her busy. Unfortunately, none of them kept her from missing Ford.

“Hello, Isabel.”

She jumped in the chair, then sprang to her feet. Ford stood in the living room, unshaven, slightly mussed and as gorgeous as ever.

“I know I locked the door,” she said. It was something she’d started doing yesterday.

He shrugged. “Locks aren’t a real problem with me. I need to show you something.”

He walked down the hall and into her bedroom. Once there, he pulled open his duffel and withdrew the letters.

She paused in the doorway, not sure why he’d shown up but determined not to let him know how much he’d hurt her. She would be fine, she told herself. She would get through this, and eventually she would heal.

He flipped through the letters, then held up one. “I got this the day a buddy of mine was killed. I was right next to him when it happened. If the bullet had gone ten inches to the left, I would have been the one who died.”