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“That’s insane,” I say but some of that rings true, and it feels good to hear someone else say them out loud. Sara Lynn’s husbanddoesdrink too much sometimes, and she does have a lot of nannies, and she is always chatting with her friends about stupid and inane gossip, and what if the perfection is all an act?
“Believe it or not but not everything you see online is real. But this right here? This is real. I really do need a wife.”
“Why are you doing this right now? Seriously Ford. We don’t know each other. My familyhatesyou. Why would I ever, ever,evermarry you, even as an arrangement?”
“Because,” he says, leaning closer, “you want to.”
Before I can argue, before I can tell him that he’s lost his damn mind, and this whole dirty text thing is a really terrible way to flirt, and this whole thing is a totally crazy mistake, he leans forward and kisses me.
I’m so taken aback that I press my lips tighter against his and let his hands grip my legs.
I’m so surprised that I open my mouth.
So shocked, honestly, totally shocked, which is why I release the tiniest little whimper as the taste of warm whiskey and mint graces my tongue.
I’m appalled as my own tongue enters his mouth and I kiss him back with a groan.
Aghast, truly aghast, as the kiss sends jolts of electrified desire into my skin and down my spine, and this is crazy, this is strange and random and crazy. Yet his tongue and lips taste like sugar and wintergreen, and there’s a stunning buzz between my legs, growing in my core, and it takes me a wild second to realize that I’m actually getting wet.
Which is what finally snaps me back into reality.
I shove him away and break off the kiss. I don’t know if we were just making out for twenty minutes or two seconds, but it feels like his mouth was on mine for an eternity. The second it’s gone, I want it again, right now, gnawing on my tongue.
“Absolutely not,” I say sharply. “What is the matter with you, Ford? You can’t just—just—kiss me.”
“And yet you kissed me back, and I’m pretty sure I heard at least one moan.”
“I did not moan! Oh my god! It was a yelp of pure astonishment at most.”
“You whimpered like you were enjoying yourself. You groaned into my mouth, you dirty—”
“Ford!”
He laughs and leans forward toward where the cabbie’s sitting stone silent and staring straight ahead like this isn’t happening. “Drop me off at the corner.”
“Sure thing,” the cabbie says and whips the wheel around.
“Think about what I said.” Ford takes a pile of twenties from his pocket and drops them onto the passenger seat. I get a quick glimpse of a few hundred dollars before it disappears into the cabbie’s pocket. “You need a husband. I need a wife. Use that number.”
“Ford. Wait. Hold on. You can’t just—”
He shoves open the door, steps out, and disappears onto the sidewalk. I shift and shimmy, trying to get out and go after him, but he’s already rounding the corner and disappearing.
“You want me to, uh—” the cabbie says.
I slam the door with a frustrated growl. “Take me home,” I say and rattle off the address. “He already paid for it.”
“Lady, I’ll take you to the moon for what he just gave me.” The cabbie laughs at his own joke and starts driving.
I sit there with lips tingling, the ghost of Ford still on my tongue, and stare out the window.
Ford Arc just barged into my cab, flirted with me, kissed me, and said we should get married.
Well, not that last part exactly—but more or less.
This has to be a sick game. It’s got to be some intricate prank. Sara Lynn’s going to jump out from the trunk any second now to take pictures and laugh in my face. She’s going to know how excited I am, how aroused I feel over that kiss, how I’m already planning to go back home to take avery long shower, how much I want to taste Ford’s tongue again—and how deeply, deeply,deeplyangry it makes me.
The bastard just walked off.
