“Yes, you can. With anyone else, maybe you couldn’t, but this greedy pussy wants to come for me one more time. Don’t hold back now, my dirty little slut. Give it to me. It’s mine. You’re mine.”

  Lake grasps the sheets on either side of her and clenches down on me. I have to physically fight to keep my eyes open to watch her hurtle over the edge, then I’m spilling inside her. The orgasm is more intense than any I’ve ever experienced. It reaches every inch of my body, but more than that, it hits my heart, leaving it beating erratically just for her.

  That’s what she’s made me. Erratic. Crazy. And so fucking gone for her.

  I collapse beside her and suck in a lungful of air, then another, before I have the wherewithal to toss the condom into the bin beside my bed and pull her onto my chest. She’s breathing just as heavily as I am, and her heart pounds out its own rhythm against mine. For a long moment, my heartbeat is so loud in my own ears I can’t think straight.

  The quiet lasts so long I get worried that maybe I pushed her too far. “Lake,” I murmur, looking down at her.

  She tilts her head back so those stunning blue eyes are locked on me. “Yeah?”

  “You okay?”

  She gives me a sleepy smile. “Perfect. Just a little tired.”

  “Bathroom, then sleep,” I say, pulling her up and carrying her to the en suite.

  Lake giggles in my arms, her body warm and soft against my chest. “You don’t have to carry me everywhere.”

  When I set her on the rug in front of the vanity, I nod to the toilet and lift one brow.

  Crossing her arms over her chest, she frowns. “I’m not going to the bathroom with you in here.”

  A chuckle escapes me. We’ve explored one another’s bodies and minds and fantasies. Yet that’s a step too far for her. “Let me brush my teeth, then I’ll leave you to yourself.”

  When I’m finished, I rifle through a drawer and find a brand-new toothbrush for her, then I give her privacy. I take advantage of the moment and head downstairs in search of my phone. Unfortunately, I have an early morning, so I need to set my alarm and check my e-mails to make sure everything is set for my meetings.

  I take a minute to check my texts too. Daniel wants to know if we’re still on for the game later this week. There’s nothing new from Millie, and she still hasn’t responded to my last message. She wasn’t thrilled about the stories involving Lake and me floating all over the internet. Hopefully Daniel can talk to her.

  As for my other son, I have a single unread message from him that reads Seriously?

  Not sure how Lake would feel about that.

  His thoughts on it weren’t enough to warrant a phone call.

  Idiot.

  When I step into my room, Lake is sitting cross-legged on my bed. She doesn’t look up from her phone. Like she’s pretending to be really into whatever she’s looking at.

  “Everything okay?” she mumbles, her head still bowed and her shoulders slumped.

  I plug my phone into the charger next to the bed, check the alarm once more, and slide between the sheets, wrapping an arm around her midsection and pulling her closer as I do. “All good. Just checking messages from my kids and setting my alarm for tomorrow. I have an early morning.”

  Lake tenses beside me. “Right,” she says, still sitting up and averting her gaze. “I’ll arrange for a car to take me back to Boston.”

  “Why?”

  “You have to work,” she says slowly, like that makes all the sense in the world. “I’ll pick up my stuff, then I’ll probably head to New York for the rest of the week.”

  My heart sinks. I knew it was coming. I can’t keep her forever. But I’m not ready to let her go.

  “Or you could stay,” I say softly, studying her, waiting to dissect her reaction.

  She sits a little straighter and finally looks at me. “Stay?”

  “You seem relaxed here. Why not stay and take a break? No one will bother you. The paps can’t get near my place,” I reason, really trying to sell the idea.

  “Ford, my parents’ house is just as secure.”

  With a nod, I drop my gaze. Why would she want to stay here? She’s probably itching to meet up with Melina…to get back to her life. I’m fucking this up. Security has nothing to do with why I want her to stay.

  Speak now. If I don’t, I’ll be smacking myself later.

  “Then stay for me.”

  “Stay?” she questions again, like she’s buying time while she processes the implications and whether she wants to agree.

  Though I shouldn’t force her to make the decision now, I don’t look away. I want her to want me. I want her to stay because she wants to be with me too.

  I push her onto her back and hover over her, caging her beneath me. Then I lower my lips to hers and plead my case. “Stay until you have to go back on tour. Stay with me.”

  She doesn’t give me words, but I don’t need them when her mouth opens and she kisses me. That’s the only answer I need. The one I crave. Her honesty. The real Lake admitting that the connection between us is exactly what I think it is.

  There’s no urgency to her kiss, because we have time. And that’s exactly what I’m desperate for. More time with her. More kisses. More nights between her thighs. More her.

  12

  LAKE

  SO IT GOES….

  Early every morning, a car arrives and whisks Ford away. While he’s at work, I spend my days exploring Bristol. His house is on the water, and along the shore is a bike path that leads directly to a beautiful park and downtown area. Even in the winter, the town keeps the path clear of ice and snow, and the fresh air does me good.

  I spend most of my time working on music, but by day three, I’m getting cabin fever, and walking by the water isn’t going to cut it, so I head into town.

  With the red beanie that Paul gave Ford pulled over my hair and my red scarf wrapped around my neck, I’m almost unrecognizable. Especially when I skip my signature red lipstick and throw on a pair of sunglasses.

  The main street is adorable. Every building is decorated for Christmas, even though it’s the first week of January. The vibe is very Dickens. Quaint and scenic and crisp. When I stroll past a sign advertising homemade donuts in the window of a bakery, I can’t resist. Inside the shop—Jules, according to the sign—I’m greeted by a pretty redhead who tells me she’s got a fresh batch coming out in a few minutes. She suggests a warm drink while I wait, and I pick a chai tea. Once she slides the paper cup across the counter, I sit at a table in the corner and people watch.

  Two guys wearing Bristol Fire Department jackets enter a few moments later, their banter livening up the quiet shop.

  “Where’s Jules?” the shorter guy asks the other.

  The other guy, who looks suspiciously like Shawn Chase, the Dodgers’ pitcher who got injured a few years ago and disappeared from the spotlight, rounds the counter and whistles. “Red, you here?”

  The nickname has me perking up. I love that Ford calls me that. That the sentiment belongs to just us.

  Only it looks as though it belongs to this couple as well.

  Strangely, it makes my heart flutter. It’s like Ford and I are a normal couple. I haven’t been normal for close to ten years. That feeling is magnified when neither man even gives me a second glance.

  The taller guy pushes through a swinging door and steps out carrying the redhead over his shoulder in, adorably, a fireman’s carry.

  She laughs and screeches the whole way. “Shawn, put me down!”

  Oh my God. That is Shawn Chase. If anyone understands the need for anonymity, it’s me, so I say nothing when his girlfriend delivers a white box full of fresh donuts to my table. “Sorry about that. The boys get crazy sometimes.”

  With a smile, I stand and slip the box into the bag she offers me. “It’s sweet. Thank you again.” I leave feeling lighter.

  The aroma of the warm donuts is so damn tempting, and I’m just considering taking one out for a sample bite when I spot a flower shop with gorgeous arrangements in the window. The shop is outfitted in teal, pink, and purple pastels and calls to me just as fervently as the bakery did. I step inside, set on picking up a bouquet to put on the table for dinner. Maybe I’ll pop into the grocery store I noticed down the block next so I can try my hand at cooking tonight. Each night, when Ford appears, he’s equipped with takeout, but the idea of surprising him with a home-cooked meal to thank him for all he’s done for me makes me giddy.

  I’ve never been so seen or supported. Not to mention the sex. And the orgasms.

  Especially the orgasms. I never knew sex could be so explosive. I’ve been writing about it for years, but now I finally understand what my friends have been saying all along.

  Sex with Ford is anything but boring.

  “Be right with you.” The muffled words come from somewhere on one side of the shop.

  Just inside the door, I pause and take a deep breath, filling my lungs with the sugary sweet scent. The entire store is bright. Even the floor is a light pink. Greenery hangs from baskets high up in corners, and ivy snakes the walls.

  A little overheated, I slide my hat off my head as I wander. It only takes a minute to spot the perfect bouquet. It’s all golds and reds that fit the vibe Ford and I have quickly adopted. With my heart floating in my chest, I grab it and bring it up to the register.

  “Find everything you need?” a woman asks as she makes her way toward me from the other side of the shop. When she strolls behind the glass case and catches sight of me, her eyes double in size. And so do mine.

  “Amelia Pearson!” I shout in surprise.

  “Lake! What the heck are you doing here?” Without hesitation, she comes around the counter and engulfs me in a hug. Amelia is not a hugger, so I appreciate the warm welcome.

  I met Amelia in Nashville eons ago, when she and her boyfriend and I were playing in bars, hoping to be seen. Though those years weren’t always easy, I look back on them now with nothing but fondness. I’m a few years younger than they are, and I got picked up not long after I met them. But Amelia and Nate, who is now her husband, recently released an album with three number-one hits on it. Their star shot right to the top, though they’ve yet to tour or make many public appearances. And here she is, in this tiny coastal town. To say I’m surprised to see her would be an understatement.

  “What are you doing here is the better question.” I step back and squeeze her arm.

  With a soft smile, she wanders back to the register and waves a hand around the store. “This is my flower shop.”

  “What?”

  “You know me. I don’t love the limelight. I agreed to do the whole music thing with Nate so long as we lived in this town and he didn’t force me to give this up.” She presses her hand against the counter, and instantly, her body relaxes. As if the simple touch has the power to ground her. “Now tell me, what are you doing here?”

  “I’m sure you’ve seen the news…”

  Amelia frowns and tilts her head. “I don’t really follow all of that.”

  “Oh.” I take in a deep breath and go for it. “Paul cheated on me with my tour manager, so I hooked up with his father to get back at him.”

  Amelia sucks in a breath and immediately falls into a coughing fit. Yes, it sounds ridiculous when I put it like that. All I can do is laugh as I pat her on the back.

  “Oh my God. I so did not expect that,” she says, flattening her palm to her chest. With her other hand, she wipes at her eyes, and when she straightens, she beams at me. “But girl, that is the best thing I’ve heard in a while. My friend Hailey would worship you for that.”

  “She sounds like a good time,” I chirp.

  My old friend grins. “She sure is. How long are you in town? You should come over to Thames on Friday. Nate likes to play for the crowd, and then they do open mic night. It’s how we test out new music.”

  The dread that hits me must be evident on my face, because she holds out her hand. “Not for you to perform. But you know, like old times. Hang out, have a drink, listen to good music. Some of the kids who show up are so good. It brings me back,” she admits.

  When she puts it that way, it does sound nice. I find myself nodding even though I’m not even sure I’ll still be here on Friday. Ford and I haven’t discussed an expiration date. When will our little fantasy run its course?

  Just the thought has my stomach in knots.

  “Maybe. That actually doesn’t sound awful.”

  Amelia laughs and picks up a coat from the back counter. “Nate’s over at the bar now. Let me put up a closed sign and we can go have lunch. He’s going to be thrilled to see you.”

  I take a step back and wring my hands as all the consequences of showing my face in public like that flash through my mind.

  She slides one arm into her coat, then the other, then pats my arm. “Don’t worry, the people here are used to seeing celebrities. They don’t bat an eye. Except Carmella. She sometimes freaks Shawn and Nate out. She’s always asking to squeeze their muscles, but to be fair, she does that to all the guys in town.”

  “Who’s Carmella?”

  Amelia smirks. “You’ll know her when you see her. She wears muumuus with crazy sayings. I’m pretty sure yesterday’s said something like It’s just a joke, not a dick. Don’t take it so hard.”

  I let out a loud laugh and allow Amelia to loop her arm through mine and lead me to the bar. Suddenly, this charming town just got a heck of a lot more intriguing.

  13

  FORD

  DELICATE

  With a frustrated growl, I slam the door of the town car and survey my house. Today sucked. Millie was supposed to meet me for lunch, but she never showed. No text, no call. My daughter fucking ghosted me. I get it, of course. She’s pissed about the pictures of Lake and me. But it still hurts.

  According to Daniel, she refuses to talk about it even to him.

  On my way up the steps, I loosen my tie, set on changing my mindset. I only get three more nights with Lake before she leaves for Los Angeles.

  When I open the door, my mood instantly lifts. The sight before me makes it impossible not to smile.

  Lake in nothing but my blue dress shirt. All bare legs and wild hair, with her hips shaking as she sings along with the music in my kitchen. My black cat lying by her feet.

  I undo the top button of my shirt and slip off my jacket. Without taking my eyes off her, I toss it aside. She’s mesmerizing. Joy radiates off her as she holds the oversized spoon up to her lips like it’s a mic.

  As she spins and catches me watching, her lips tug up into a brilliant smile. “You’re home!” She practically leaps into my arms and crushes me in a hug.

  Pulling her as close as I can, I inhale her sweet vanilla scent. Everything about her is warm, welcoming. The way her body molds against mine, her excitement over seeing me. When was the last time anyone was genuinely happy to see me without getting anything in return? No handouts, no record deals. How long has it been since someone just wanted me?

  I fist her hair and pull her face to mine, raking my fingers through her chocolate strands. “Hey, Red. Missed you today.”

  She kisses me lazily, tongue tangling with mine. Kissing just for the sake of kissing. My hands don’t wander, and I don’t want to let her go to take this any further. All I want is this connection.

  Breathless, she pulls away and scans my face, then presses one last soft kiss against my lips. “Missed you too.” She shimmies, silently signaling me to put her down. “But I had a great day.” With her hand in mine, she pulls me toward the kitchen. “Sit. Let me open a bottle of wine.”

  In awe of her, I shake my head. She’s completely comfortable in my house. She looks fucking good in my kitchen as well as in my shirt. “Let me get it.”

  I pad over to the bar and select a bottle I’ve been saving for a special occasion. Lake in my shirt, with no makeup on and her lips puffy from our kisses, was not what I originally had in mind for this thousand-dollar bottle of red, but I can’t think of a more fitting reason if I tried. “What made your day so great?”

  “Did you know that Nate and Amelia Pearson live in Bristol?”

  Holding the corkscrew over the bottle, I pause and turn to her. Nate and Amelia aren’t only famous for their music. Locally, they’re known for being soulmates. “I didn’t realize you knew them.”

  Her blue eyes are sparkling and her cheeks are flushed pink. “I saw Amelia perform at the Bluebird Café a few months before I had the chance to do it myself. She and Nate—they were the most adorable couple. So down to earth and so dedicated to one another despite the obstacles they had to overcome to make it.” She shrugs. “They always gave me hope that one day I’d find that.”

  “Find what?”

  Her eyes go soft and her shoulders lower just a fraction as she fixes her attention on the setting sun out the kitchen window. “True love. Finding that person who would choose me for me. Not for Lake Paige. But ya know just…me.” She shuffles her bare feet on the tile and dips her chin. But after a silent moment, those blue eyes that are slowly making me believe I could maybe be that person for her find me. “You ever have that?”

  I pull the cork out of the wine and turn to the cabinet to grab glasses. “True love?” I ask my reflection in the glass, too chicken to face her.

  Her voice gets distant then. “You do have three children, so I don’t know why I asked—”

  “No,” I say quickly as I turn around, holding two glasses.

  Lake takes one step closer, then another, as I pour the wine. “No?”

  I shake my head as I go to her, one glass held out. “Not like Nate and Amelia. Sure, I loved my ex at one time. But never in that can’t live without you way. So no, I never had that before.”

  Lake takes the glass and nods, though she’s focused on a spot on my throat rather than my face. “Me neither.”