“You’re not getting it. How you love a woman is different than how you love a family.”
“No, it’s not. The sex is different, but the love is the same. It’s giving of yourself, wanting them to be happy. It’s doing the right thing and showing up every day. If you can love one person, you can love Isabel.”
Ford wanted to believe him. If only it were that easy. “I haven’t had a serious relationship since Maeve,” he admitted. “There have been plenty of women, but I haven’t wanted to be with any of them more than a few days, maybe a couple of weeks. They tried to convince me, but I wouldn’t have it. I walked away every time.”
Leonard patted him on the shoulder. “That’s because you were falling for someone else. The letters. Isabel’s letters. You couldn’t fall for those women because you were already in love with Isabel. All this time, she’s been the one. You came home for her. That’s why you picked her to have a fake relationship with. You figured it was the closest you could come to the real thing, and you wanted that with her. It’s been Isabel the whole time.”
Ford’s first instinct was to crush Leonard like a bug. His second was to take a deep breath and figure out if he could be telling the truth.
Was it really that simple?
* * *
ISABEL FINISHED CLEANING the kitchen. Sadly, that was what her Sunday afternoon had been reduced to. She knew she could call one of her friends and go do something, but she wasn’t in the mood for company.
The party Friday night had helped a lot. The hangover had been a distraction, too, but mostly she’d been reminded of the love and support she had in town.
She started the dishwasher, then sat down at the kitchen table with a pad of paper. Now that she was staying, she needed to make a list of all the things she had to do. For one thing, her parents were due back in a few weeks. She adored them but seriously wanted her own place. She’d already mentioned taking over the store during their last conversation and they’d been thrilled. Which meant she needed to move forward with getting an estimate on what the renovations would cost.
There was a meeting with a lawyer to draw up partnership papers with Taryn and contracting with all her designers. Maybe even find a few new ones. A thousand things to keep her busy. Unfortunately, none of them kept her from missing Ford.
“Hello, Isabel.”
She jumped in the chair, then sprang to her feet. Ford stood in the living room, unshaven, slightly mussed and as gorgeous as ever.
“I know I locked the door,” she said. It was something she’d started doing yesterday.
He shrugged. “Locks aren’t a real problem with me. I need to show you something.”
He walked down the hall and into her bedroom. Once there, he pulled open his duffel and withdrew the letters.
She paused in the doorway, not sure why he’d shown up but determined not to let him know how much he’d hurt her. She would be fine, she told herself. She would get through this, and eventually she would heal.
He flipped through the letters, then held up one. “I got this the day a buddy of mine was killed. I was right next to him when it happened. If the bullet had gone ten inches to the left, I would have been the one who died.”
He tossed that envelope on the bed and picked up another one. “Three nights in a frozen shit hole with no food or water. You’d discovered Billy and surfing, and reading your letter took me away to L.A. and something good.”
He fanned out the letters, then dropped them all onto the bed. “The reason I don’t talk about what happened is I already did. To you. You were there with me, every step of the way. You kept me company when I was lonely. You reminded me what I was fighting for, and in the end, you brought me home.”
She didn’t know what to think, what to say.
“I watched you grow up, Isabel,” he continued. “I know you better than I know anyone. It took your skinny accountant brother-in-law to get me to see the truth, but the reason I’ve never fallen in love with anyone before now is that I’ve always been in love with you. I don’t know if it happened with the first letter, or the second, but I can tell you by the time you kicked Warren in the balls after the prom, I was yours. I was just too stupid to figure it out for myself.”
He shrugged. “If you’re still in love with me, I’d like that a lot, because I’m sure in love with you.”
She didn’t remember moving, but suddenly she was in his arms. He held her so tight, she didn’t think she could breathe, but that was okay. She had Ford and he loved her.
She started to laugh, and laughter turned to tears; then he was kissing her, and she was kissing him back.
“I do love you,” he murmured, his lips moving against hers.
“I love you, too.”
Three Little Words (Fool's Gold #12)
Susan Mallery's books
- A Christmas Bride
- Just One Kiss
- Chasing Perfect (Fool's Gold #1)
- Almost Perfect (Fool's Gold #2)
- Sister of the Bride (Fool's Gold #2.5)
- Finding Perfect (Fool's Gold #3)
- Only Mine (Fool's Gold #4)
- Only Yours (Fool's Gold #5)
- Only His (Fool's Gold #6)
- Only Us (Fool's Gold #6.1)
- Almost Summer (Fool's Gold #6.2)