Page 35 of Tate
This was why she did better over comms. She averted her eyes and spotted his motorcycle sitting on the driveway. She opened the screen door, still not looking quite at him.
“Hey, Ford. Uh?—”
“The guys sent me looking for you.”
This brought her gaze up to his, and yeah, bad idea. Because here he was in the flesh, his voice rumbling through her, making it worse. Her mouth dried, and she forced a clumsy smile.
“The…guys?”
One would think she’d never learned how to talk.
“Yes. The SEAL team you work with?” His mouth tweaked up one side. “Apparently, there are some virgin margaritas sweating in the sun for you.”
Sweet. And yet, she couldn’t move.
Ford glanced at her car. “I see you have a little tire issue there.”
She nodded.
“So…” He ran a hand behind his neck, as if not sure what to say. Glanced back at her. “I could…give you a ride?” He smiled, something sweet and friendly and?—
She burst into tears.
What the—? “I’m sorry!” She turned away, pressing her hands to her face. What was herproblem?
“Scarlett?”
The door bumped open behind her and she knew he was walking into her house now, but she just kept walking, not sure where she was going, so she ended up facing the wall next to her mounted flat-screen. Like she might be eight years old, hiding with her hand over her eyes.
Make it go away.
“Um.” He blew out a breath. “I really don’t know what I did, but…I’m sorry. And…can I…is there?—”
“No.” She sighed, leaned her forehead on the wall. “I’m sorry. I’m having a very bad day.”
She heard a jangle of keys falling on the counter.
“I understand bad days. Like when a militant terrorist lands on you and takes out your NVGs, then another shoots you in thechest, yeah, that’s a bad day. And it would have been worse if it weren’t for you, Red.”
Oh. She looked over at him, and he was sitting on a stool, sort of parked there, like he belonged.
“I volunteered to track you down because…well, I needed to say that to you.” Then he lifted the edge of his shirt, all the way up past his pectoral muscle to show her the still reddened but also greening-and-purple bruise. “This could have been a giant hole in my head if it weren’t for you. If I hadn’t turned around, gotten in a shot or two—probably rattled his aim.” He dropped the shirt, gave her a half-hitched smile. “I felt a little like crying too.”
He winked.
And oh, there they went, straight out of her head—all the reasons she’d been telling herself not to fall for Ford. Only one remained—the Very Obvious Reason. They worked together. And he was a higher rank. And they were a team.
But he had that very sexy western drawl and those eyes that settled on her, turned her entire body to a temperature that rivaled Southern California.
And when he laughed, she could feel it to her bones.
“What’s the matter, Red?”
She sighed then, because they had this thing. He talked and she listened, and then she talked…and he listened, and maybe they were friends too.
And she needed a friend, if not someone to help her figure out what to do.
“I just called my mother. She’s…not well. She hardly knew who I was on the phone.”
