Now and Then (15 page)

Fuck practice. It wasn’t getting him anywhere.

Just like Ty’s suggestion he hit the gym. Hard.

Six days and forty miles on the treadmill later and it was clear, sweating Brynn out of his system wasn’t going to happen. Neither was Sam’s miracle cure of taking a nap with the darling Penelope on his chest. That tiny weight against his heart had been sweet. But all he’d been able to think about was what it might be like to have his hand stretched over Brynn’s baby. What kind of incredible mom she’d make with that infuriating protective streak. What she’d look like pregnant. And yeah, when his caveman started thinking about what it would be like to get her that way—it had been time to give Penelope back. Posthaste.

Which brought him to the bar where he was currently nursing beer number he-didn’t-care-anymore, taking a crack at Tony’s “sure as shit get you over that chick” method of drinking her away. So far, he wasn’t impressed. Particularly since he was getting closer and closer to doing what he’d sworn he wouldn’t do. Which was—

“Put the phone away,” Mitch grumbled, shaking his head in disgust. “You’re not going to call her.”

Then the guy leaned over the bar and flagged the bartender for another round, throwing in a wink and a smile when she offered him a sassy look. Ford checked his beer thinking he still had a full one, but unless Tony somehow polished it off while he’d been distracted—and Tony being a zero stealth kind of guy, that didn’t seem likely—he’d finished it himself.

Good thing he didn’t care anymore, or he might be a little concerned about what was in store for him come morning.

And as to Mitch telling him to put the phone away? Yeah, that was solid advice. He knew it, deep in his gut. But that whole not-caring thing was bleeding over to the part of him that handled restraint. The part with all the good reasons for not calling Brynn. After midnight. From a bar. While he was loaded.

He thumbed the device to life, only to have it snatched from his hand.

“No
way,
dude,” Tony pledged. “Remember how you wouldn’t let me climb that tree up to your sister’s old place? I was all about the grand gesture, so sure she’d finally let me bone her—
sorry,
I mean take her out.”

Ford waved him off. No harm.

“You saved my life that night.
My life,
man.”

Ford remembered. And Tony was right. He had saved his life. Ava would have killed the guy if he’d tried to sneak in her bedroom window. Either that or the cops parked halfway down the block would have arrested his sorry ass and it being Tony, dollars to donuts said a good tasering wouldn’t be totally unexpected. Actually, chances were the fall from the tree would have taken him out. There’d been something like six feet between the branch and building and—

He pulled Tony into a strong one-armed hug. “I did. Because I love you, man.”

Tony sounded like he was choking up, or maybe Ford was holding him too tight, but whatever.

“I love you, too.”

A couple of beers came down between them and Mitch was rolling his eyes, looking a hell of a lot like his older brother, Tyler, when he did it. “Break it up, girls. We’ve got beer to drink. Sorrows to drown. That shit.”

Tony sat to his right. “This is fun. But because I love you, I gotta confess. I don’t know if this works. I just wanted a beer.”

Ford wasn’t surprised.

Mitch let out a low chuckle and lifted the bottom of his glass to clink against Tony’s.

“Not a problem, T. I’m telling you. All this”—Mitch made a disgusted face and waved a sloppy hand in Ford’s general direction—“ends when you see her again. Mark my words, bud. You’re feeling like shit, but the minute you lay eyes on her, you’re going to remember why you said goodbye. You’re going to be
glad
you did.”

Ford searched the depths of his beer for answers, but even after the last swallow was nothing more than the bitter aftertaste of regret, he didn’t think so.

Tony hiccupped. “She lives in Boston.”

Plus, there was that.

“So we go to Boston,” Mitch stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Ford’s head came up. And maybe it was.

“Yes!” Tony smacked his hand on the bar. “I’ve always wanted to do a road trip. This will be epic. Total debauchery. We’ll stop at all the—”

“Fuck the road trip.” Mitch took a long swallow from his beer. “We’ll fly.”

For the first time in a month, Ford felt almost alive.

“Give me my phone.” There had to be a red-eye.

Morning had taken a jackhammer to Ford’s head, confirming that, yes, he’d been a total dumbass. Hell, even his fingertips ached as they hit key after key, taking him that much closer to completing one critical task. The only thing he had to get done this morning. And it
had
to get done this morning.

Another click and he sat back, finally able to take a full breath. Okay, only not too full.

Beer had long been one of his favorite food groups. And he was sure, sometime in the next week or so, they’d become friends again. But friends who respected the boundaries of their relationship. Friends who knew when to say when.

For now, just the thought—his stomach turned and he ground down his teeth. He wasn’t going to get sick. Drunk enough that Tony and Mitch had confiscated his phone was bad enough. Or good, since his plan to catch the next flight out to Boston was no kind of alternative to drunk-dialing Brynn in the middle of the night.

Not his finest hour. Not by a long shot.

But no way was he going to hurl, too.

On that he was rock solid.

At least until his little sister came skidding into his apartment, her face beet red, fanning her down coat open and closed over her sweater and jeans.

“What the hell, Ava? Are you okay?”

“Thank God…you’re showered,” she gasped, bracing her hands on her knees and looking him over with a critical eye. “Teeth…brushed, too? Scratch that, you’re Ford….Of course they are.”

They were. Of course. And flossed.

“What’s going on?”

Another gasp, and then she was pulling him out of his seat. “She’s here. Brynn. The redhead whose picture I might have accidentally dug up on your phone. I’ve been trying to call you. She’s at the pub around the corner.
Working.
Why the heck was your phone sitting outside your front door, Ford!”

Okay, so now he’d seen her. And Mitch didn’t have a fucking clue, because not only was Ford definitely not over Brynn, it was pretty damned clear that seeing her wasn’t going to be enough. Jesus, she was really here. She hadn’t left town. Hadn’t moved halfway across the country to put him behind her with everything else she wanted to leave behind.

Ford tried to swallow past the stone lodged deep in his throat, but all he got was this dry choking thing that proved just how far gone he was. Hell, he could barely push air past it. And words?

Not a chance. Not yet.

And not a problem, either, as he watched Brynn laughing with the blonde behind the bar while she wiped down a table in the mostly empty pub. Her hair was up in a wild knot atop her head, a few curls spiraling softly around her face and ears. Tempting him to touch what he couldn’t have.

She hadn’t seen him yet, so he had at least another few seconds to scrape his game together. To figure out how he was going to win her back.

The door swung open behind him and an instant later his juggernaut of a sister flew into him with a thud and wheeze. “I was
yelling
for you to wait!”

Brynn’s eyes snapped to him, her lips parting on a gasp.

And then Ford was weaving through the mostly empty tables, vaguely aware of his sister telling him she was just going to sit a minute. Brynn hadn’t moved, just followed his advance until he was standing in front of her, telling the caveman he couldn’t crush her against him and take her mouth like he owned it. Like she owned him.

Instead, he settled for touching her arm in one of those friendly, awkward rub-squeeze things that made him feel like
game
was completely beyond his abilities at that moment.

“Brynn, you look good.”

Beautiful. Gorgeous. Sexy as hell in another T-shirt and jeans.

She looked like his next breath.

Rubbing her hands over the cropped black apron tied around her waist, she gave him that shy smile that always killed him. “I don’t— I didn’t know I’d see— If I’d known—” She broke off with a choice expletive. One she didn’t even try to correct.

God, he loved that mouth of hers.

When her eyes met his again, she cocked her head to the side and smiled. “Thank you. It’s good to see you.”

He glanced around the restaurant. “You have a minute to talk?”

She nodded. “My section is empty.”

What was she doing working tables like this?

What was she doing in Chicago?

“Did something happen with the Celtics or the TNT games? I thought—” His chest felt like he was about to go all Bruce Banner, like it couldn’t contain what was happening within. Only this was no rage-induced metamorphosis.

This was Brynn.

“I thought you’d moved to Boston.”

“What? No. I—I mean I moved out of my apartment, yes. I didn’t feel comfortable living in your building after everything.”

She looked away, but not before he saw the flash of pain in her eyes. A pain that sliced through his soul. But she covered it quickly and then she was smiling back at him, her eyes bright.

“I moved into a place a few blocks up on North Honore. Couple of girls were trying to fill a spare room. First time I’ve ever felt like I could have roommates, so it worked out. And this,” she added, pinching a corner of her apron and doing a little curtsy. “This is just something extra to fill my time. I wanted to keep busy.”

“Busy.”

She sucked a breath and scanned the place. “It’s a great place to work. Nice people. Actually I’ve been making a lot of friends here.”

Ford tried to smile but he knew what Brynn was really doing there. She was working to pay him back. Which was probably why she’d moved into a place with roommates, too.

He’d told her he didn’t want her money. It meant nothing to him.

Christ, she was stubborn.

She was perfect.

It felt like there were miles of space between them. Too many for the way Brynn wanted to touch him. She couldn’t believe he was here. Finally standing in front of her after she’d essentially been walking the streets of Wicker Park in her every spare moment with the hopes of running into him again. With the hopes of it being like it was those first weeks.

But she knew there was a chance it would never be like that again.

“Are you happy?” he asked.

This minute? Seeing his gorgeous face in front of her? Definitely.

Overall, though? She took a deep breath and told him the truth, because if she ever hoped to have another chance with this man, nothing else would do.

“Yes and no,” she started tentatively. Then smiled. “Here, let’s get out of the way. There’s some privacy in back.”

Ford walked with her, his hand light on her back as she explained. “In some ways, the last few weeks have been the best of my life. It’s incredible to be able to talk to my mom or Mickey and not worry about what I’m going to hear about my father. I look at the things around me, the people I meet, and I don’t tell myself not to get used to them anymore. I don’t feel like I need to keep friends at a distance.” She pressed her palm over the place in her chest that felt near bursting with emotion, and whispered, “It’s amazing, Ford.”

He smiled down at her, but it didn’t reach his eyes when he replied. “You should have had this all along. I wish I could have done something sooner.”

She shook her head, forcing herself to hold his gaze. “It’s not like I gave you much of a chance.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t still wish it had been different for you. For both of us.”

She nodded her understanding, then dared another look into those deep mocha eyes. “I think I’m through wishing things had been different. I can’t change what happened. I can’t make different decisions than the ones I did—though,” she swallowed hard, because this was one part of the truth Ford needed to hear, “if ever I had choices like those to make again, I would choose differently. I would choose us.”

A muscle ticked in Ford’s jaw and he looked out toward the restaurant.

Checking for the way out?
she wondered, her heart aching at the thought. She needed to tell him the rest, before she lost her opportunity.

“But even though I’m through wishing over things I can’t change, I haven’t given up wishing on the future.”

And yeah, now she had his attention again. Those deep, dark eyes were locked with hers, still too closed off to read—but he was listening.

“What are you wishing for, Brynn?” he asked slowly, his deep voice so low she could feel it rumbling through her.

“I’m wishing for all of it, Ford,” she whispered, emotion making the words hard to come by. “You and me. The happily-ever-after you were talking about. The one I didn’t believe in, but I do now.”

She reached for his arm, feeling the muscle tense beneath her hold. “I know because of what I did, you don’t, but—”

“Brynn,” he started, trying to cut her off, but she couldn’t let him.

“I’m willing to put in the time to prove it to you. You’re worried I’ll run, that fundamentally, I’ll never change. But Ford, I’m changing already.”

He took a step closer, well into her personal space. His brows were drawn forward, his eyes darker than she’d ever seen them. “Don’t.”

“Don’t freak out—I’m not changing
for
you,” she rushed on. “I’m changing for me. Because I want roots. I want people in my life and a home and knickknacks. I want the late nights and lazy mornings and pushing the cart through the grocery store together. I want to host barbeques where all your nutty friends and family come over, and then I want to get in on the furniture assembly Olympics and I want to win. I want a pet, even though having one scares the life out of me, but I know if you had it with me we’d be able to make it happy. And someday, I want a top-of-the-growth-chart, beautiful dark-haired sports nut to call me Mommy. I want us to protect each other. To face the challenges life throws our way and, because I believe in us, know we’ll come out stronger. I want all of that—and I want it with you, Ford.”