“Oh, that's really nice of them,” I said. “I guess we'll just have to survive without you for a week.”
She nodded soberly. Either she hadn't caught my whiff of sarcasm, or she'd decided to ignore it. “Anyway, I think I'll go say hi to Ford real quick. Let him know how good that tux looks on him.” Her smile turned predatory. “Just between us girls, he looks even better out of it.”
I held back a frown. Had she and Ford hooked up before? Somehow I doubted that—but her attempt at bluffing annoyed me all the same. I was tired of navigating around the ten-pound hints she kept dropping. She clearly wasn't trying to make friends over a little girl talk. She wanted to get a reaction out of me. What reaction, I had no idea.
I needed to stop overanalyzing her bullshit and just get out of there. My plate was finally empty and I wasn't interested in watching Celeste hang all over Ford. “I think I'll call it a night,” I said. “See you when you get back.”
“Bye,” she replied over her shoulder, already on her way to Ford's table.
I tossed my plate in the trash and went into the darkened house. Once in the safety of my room, I stripped off my bridesmaid dress and flopped on the bed. For a minute I just stared at the rounded timbers of the ceiling.
Sleeping with my stepbrother … what the hell had I been thinking? Sure, I had wanted it, and I actually still did. I couldn't deny that. But now that I had some distance from the situation, I realized that I'd dodged a bullet. My hormones had driven me temporarily insane, that was all. It never would have happened if I'd just spent a little more private time with myself.
Speaking of which, I'll never get to sleep without some relief. I sighed and let my hand creep down. When I closed my eyes, I felt Ford's hands on my skin, the stripes around my wrists where his silk tie had dug in. I ran my tongue over my lips, still swollen from his forceful kisses.
But I froze, fingers skimming the top of my panties, at the thud of footsteps. They came up the stairs, drew closer, and then paused by my door for the briefest instant before continuing on. I guess Ford had enough of Celeste, I thought. Had he also written off our encounter as a mistake, or …
My mind filled with the image of Ford on his own bed, doing what I'd been just about to do, and the pit of my belly ached with desire.
This was going to be the longest summer of my life.
* * *
After an early, Celeste-free breakfast the next morning, our parents left for Napa Valley. They would be touring the vineyards for a week, staying at a villa near the winery where they first met. Ford and I would have the place all to ourselves.
Still picking at the last of my scrambled eggs, I wiped Mom's lipstick off my forehead where she had kissed me goodbye. This house was too big on a good day; now, with only two people rattling around its empty halls, it felt cavernous.
I sneaked a glance across the wide dining-room table at Ford. He had polished off his food, but still lingered at the table. He noticed me watching him and met my eyes with a cool, indifferent gaze of his own. I quickly looked back down at my food. Was he going to bring up last night? Did I want him to?
Without waiting to find out, I got up and went to the kitchen. I needed to stop driving myself nuts and take my mind off Ford. As I rinsed my plate and stowed it in the dishwasher, I tried to think of how I could keep busy. I didn't feel like hanging out with the ranch hands, and they had their own work to do anyway. Maybe I could take myself on a tour of the ranch. Well, not the whole thing—forty thousand acres sounded like a hell of a lot—but I could handle following a fence for a few hours. Without any better ideas, I settled for that and started rummaging through the fridge for sandwich fixings.
Footsteps approached from behind me. “What are you doing?” Ford asked.
Without turning around, I mumbled, “Making a sack lunch.” Dammit, why had I said that? Now I’d have to explain why, and he might ask where I was going.
But his only response was, “Don't use mayonnaise. It'll go bad if you're prancing around in the sun all day.”
That made me glance back to where he leaned against the doorframe. I guess he can tell that I want to be alone … or maybe he just doesn't give a shit what I'm up to. Either way, I shouldn't have expected a Mom-style third degree. “You want to come?” The words were out before I could think.
He jerked his head. “Now that the damn wedding's finally over, I can't put off work any longer.” As he walked out of the kitchen, he commented, “You should bend over more often.”
I resisted the urge to throw the jar of mustard after him.
Outside, there were no clouds, but a warm breeze carried the earthy smell of rain from just before dawn. I set out through the tall, yellowed grass for a fence I could barely glimpse. Occasionally the patter of distant hooves floated across the rolling hills, but the only creatures I saw on my walk were a few black-tailed prairie dogs. I threw them my crusts when I stopped for lunch. They inched just close enough to nab their prizes, then flashed back underground.