The bastard.

And now my girl is wearing a baby blue sundress that hits her mid-thigh when she stands. The thin straps leave her shoulders and arms bare, and the dress molds to her perky breasts.

The ones Ford sucked on last night.

I groan. Not only because she looks adorable, slightly sleepy, and sweet, but because I just so naturally thought of her as ‘mygirl’. Hours after she spent the night in another man’s arms. A man who sucked on her nipples and made her come.

I don’t know the details—I was a little distracted myself, but I heard it. Harrison did too. And I know it turned him on.

The sounds—those fucking sounds—of Ivy coming apart in pleasure…fuck. I wasn’t responsible for them and yet I don’t know that I will ever get them out of my head.

“Are you going to get coffee?” she asks me, keeping her voice low as she comes to stand beside me.

I nod instead of speaking.

“Can I come?” she asks.

You come prettier than anyone I’ve ever heard. Of course I don’t say that. Or the next thought either.Harrison doesn’t come pretty. No. He comes loud and with my name on his tongue. Exactly the way I order him to.

Yep, I can distinctly remember how he sounded with my hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him until he spilled, hot and sticky, all over my hand.

Jesus. It’s not even eight in the morning and I am hard as a rock.

I open the door and usher her out with a hand on her lower back.

Once the door shuts behind us, I say, “I saw a place a few blocks over. It’s just a diner, so I’m not sure what they’ll have to offer. But hopefully to-go cups. Unless you want to stay there.”

Maybe that’s a good idea. We can sit and eat and let the other two sleep for a while.

I wouldn’t mind some alone time with Ivy. I don’t know where her head is for sure—this road trip has been intense—and I would love to know how she’s feeling about everything. Okay, specifically about Ford.

I should be wondering how she’s feeling about Brad.

But I know her. She’s okay about her ruined wedding. I can read her well enough to know that. I was worried that she wasn’t madly in love with Brad to start with. I’m definitely relieved that the wedding got called off, of course, and yes, some of that is selfish because of my feelings for her, but it’s also because I know her feelings for Brad were not strong enough. And he’s a dick. He was never good enough for her.

But my curiosity isn’t about Brad. It’s all about Ford. There’s clearly something there. Something more than what happened last night.

He wants her. Has for a while, I know. But now she’s available and she’s interested, I can tell.

And if fucking Harrison wasn’t here distracting me, I’d be more tuned in to what’s going on between her and the other millionaire playboy.

Hell, that’s probably not even fair.

Ford’s a good guy. He dates, sure, but he’s not the man whore the guyI’mstupidly crazy about is.

Ford has been taking care of Ivy this whole time. While I’ve been dealing with Harrison.

But has he taken advantage of her vulnerable state? Is she looking at him with a little hero worship maybe?

We should talk this out.

She’s been quiet on the drive to the diner, so as I pull the glass door open I say, “Let’s stay and eat here.”

“What about the guys?” she asks.

I step in behind her and frown. “They’re big boys.” But then I say. “We can take them something to go. But I’d like a chance to talk, just the two of us. We haven’t had any time alone since the wedding.”

Her blue gaze meets mine. She nods. “That would be nice.”