Page 69 of Always a Bridesmaid
And smiled.
Never before had she been so filthy. While crusty and moderately uncomfortable, it made her oddly happy.
Free.
Usually she held closer to societal constructs. Always had to focus on focusing. She didn’t rock the boat while also craving attention, which never had gone very well together. Often it felt like she worked her butt off to be a casual observer of her own life.
Today she’d grabbed an amazing moment by the horns, wrestled it to the muddy ground, and experienced sensations she hadn’t even realized she’d been missing.
A shirtless Ford ambled up the sidewalk, speckled in much the same way she was after a day of painting, and it was as if her blurry life twisted into focus. Happy, tingly emotions crystallized, and sheclick,clicked a button in her brain so she could always remember this perfect moment.
“Evidently mud makes me sappy,” she said. “I’m about to start waxing poetic.”
Amusement danced along the crooked slant of Ford’s smile. “Spout some poetry for me, Shakespeare.”
“Wasn’t Shakespeare more of a playwright?”
“Ooh yeah. Those are the sexy words I was hoping for.”
Violet gave his chest a light shove. “Ha-ha. What I’m trying to say is this afternoon was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I was completely in the moment.”
Ford wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her close. “I rather enjoyed several of those moments myself.” He kissed her hard on the lips and reached around her to open the door. “Finally, I can show this doorknob who’s boss. He’s been bragging for weeks about how he got further with you than I did.”
The guy was such a ham, a joke always at the ready, a smile a second away. She’d never been with anyone like Ford.
Not that she’d been with him.
Was she going to be tonight?
If the way he kissed was any indicator, they could have a whole lot of unbridled fun together. He saw her, too—the real, unfiltered version. Scattered brain, bursts of energy, and previously buried passion for photography, which he’d encouraged her to rediscover.
Unlike her ex, Ford didn’t attempt to calm the mayhem inside her brain—he rolled with it and patiently repeated himself. He made every minute an adventure.
The way he’d looked at her as he’d told her she was beautiful, as if he’d been in the middle of the desert for days and had just spotted water…
Her stomach whirled as she tipped onto her toes and initiated another kiss.
A tug-of-war began between her heart and her brain.
Sex without commitment often ended in tears and asking yourself what you did wrong.
Then again, so did sexwithcommitment.
More than physical attraction crackled between them, and she could feel their connection in her very soul. A sort of kindred recognition.
Their entwined bodies knocked into the front door, nudging it open, and barks erupted. Theclickety clackof paws filled the air as the dynamite trio came running.
“Sit,” Ford firmly said, and all but Trouble obeyed. He bounded over to Violet, and she hinged at her waist to pet him. Only a strong hand grasped her upper arm and hauled her upright. “You can’t reward him unless he obeys.”
Violet grumbled, and Ford arched an eyebrow.
“I want to see if your method works. And it’s not fair to the dogs being obedient if Trouble gets rewarded for disobeying.”
Turned out Ford was a stickler in one area, and since it was his job to train dogs that’d be in charge of people’s lives, she supposed that was fair.
“Sit,” she told Trouble. He whimpered and pawed at her muddy pants legs, and as hard as it was to ignore the twinge in her chest, she remained steadfast. “Sit.”
Trouble’s furry butt hit the floor.
