“Exactly what I already told you. I never wanted to be around others more than required to survive. My friendships are nonexistent. I decided that needs to change. We seem to get along well enough. So, tell me we can meet up once a week or whenever you have a free afternoon. Not for dates or anything romantic. Millie comes along. Invite Josey if that makes you more comfortable.”
I shake my head, trying to process what he’s saying. After several moments, his meaning still doesn’t compute. “I don’t get it. Why me?”
“Why not you?”
“Just answer the question, Ford.”
His throat bobs with a thick swallow. “You’re good for me.”
“How?”
“Why are you making this so hard?” Crawford yanks on his hat again. “I can’t explain it very well. You just make me feel…happy.”
My heart is beating too fast. I can’t catch a decent breath. This man is showering me with compliments to the best of his ability. Yet my broken spirit refuses to believe the sincere quality. “This seems like a trick.”
His hazel eyes skewer me to a nearby tree. “What do I have to gain from scamming you?”
“Sex.”
A twitch leaps in his jaw. “I already got that.”
“And you don’t want a repeat?”
“Another question.” A snort flares his nostrils. “If I did, lying and being dishonest is far too much wasted effort. I don’t need to be shady and resort to deception. How bad do you think I am?”
“That depends on what version of personality you’re using.”
“Are you going to deny me compassion either way?”
I shake my head, strands of blonde sticking to the stubble along his jaw. Light blending with dark, the meaning not lost on me. I release a shaky exhale. “No.”
“Does that mean yes to everything else?”
Is this another future regret? Only tomorrow will tell. “Sure. We can give this friendship thing a test run.”
The shimmer in Crawford’s gaze speaks of victory, but what he won is yet to be determined. I refuse to let Millie be a casualty of a failed experiment. My heart, on the other hand, is a bargaining chip I’m more prepared to lose.
His lips brush the shell of my ear. “You won’t be sorry.”
Clarity seeps in with another impulsive assurance from him. “Don’t make promises that are meant to be broken.”
The smirk touching his mouth caresses my most intimate bits. Yeah, I’m completely screwed. “Only if you stop assuming the worst of me.”
I don’t shy away, tilting my chin to put us on even ground. “Prove me wrong, Ford.”
Healing Hug #18: Given to those who aren’t brave enough to ask.
For the sake of establishing equality in this crazy-ass experiment, Keegan gets to decide where we’re meeting this morning. Switching off is reasonable since I’m the one who’s orchestrating a change. If I want new challenges, this is a guaranteed way to get them. Her lack of trust isn’t surprising in the least. I deserve the clouds she’s casting over me. If she jumped in without questioning my integrity, I’d wonder about her genuine investment. But of course, Keegan bailed and bucked at my plans. Thankfully, in the end, she bent when it really counted.
We share stakes in this arrangement. Mine just happened to be a greater risk, at least in my opinion. There’s no denying she’s still interested in me. How deep that attraction flows is another story. Does the potential of sleeping with her again appeal to me? Abso-fucking-lutely. I can get hard in a moment’s notice with her nearby. We can both benefit from solidifying a relationship, platonic or purely physical.
I glance at Keegan’s last text while waiting for the light to change. Her location of choice is in the heart of downtown Silo Springs. The options become less appealing with each block I pass on Main Street. Patch is acclimating to our widening horizons far better than me. She’s almost friendly with everyone that walks by, offering them a whipping wag of her tail.
When I approach the address, my stomach drops straight to the sidewalk. The regret for concocting this harebrained scheme is settling in real deep right about now. Keegan sent me to a fucking coffee house. This is what I get for not researching the site first. Going in blind to keep the suspense alive was a foolish mistake.
Once I’m standing in front of Steeped, there’s no doubt in my mind that Keegan chose this spot to torture me. Upon initial glance, this bistro is only marginally better than Bronco Buck in regard to my preferred ratio of people to space. The interior is crawling with patrons searching for an open table or waiting in line or standing against the wall while talking to others. This is a great example of socializing to the extreme. I’m about to be one of the guppies swimming in a sea of idiocy. But, to be fair, there’s a patio where dogs are allowed.
Patch drops her nose to the ground and leads us around the building. At least one of us knows where to go. Idle chatter floats over from around the corner, offering further proof I don’t need. The outdoor seating area is less crowded, but there are still more bodies than I care to count. There are so many damn people in this area. If I wanted real solitude, I’d have to move a lot farther than the woods on the outskirts of town.
Millie looks up when I clang the metal gate open. She waves, pigtail braids flapping with the erratic motions. That little girl has the ability to knock some good sense into me without batting an eyelash. The other woman at the table gives me pause for another reason entirely.
Keegan’s glossy, blonde mane shimmers in the direct sunlight beating down. She twists in her chair to face me, a coy grin hiking up those ruby-stained lips. If Millie is candy-coated sprinkles, her mother is a double slice of creamy cheesecake with strawberries and whipped cream. My fucking favorite. A
