Hello Quarterback (Hello #8)

35. Ford

35

FORD

I had no right to be as nervous as I felt watching the couple rounding the corner to Mia’s foyer. Mia’s parents were older than my dad by at least ten years, but you could still see the family resemblance. Mia had her mom’s build, her dad’s face, and a smile that was a mix of them both.

Her dad extended his hand, saying, “Nice to meet you. I’m Hugh. This is my wife, Joanne.”

I shook his hand firmly like my dad had taught me, then accepted Joanne’s quick hug.

“Well,” Mia said, speaking too quickly, “We’d better be going.”

Her mother’s face fell. “Oh, I was hoping we could have some coffee with Ford. Is that okay?”

That’s when I realized her eyes were the same shade of blue as Mia’s. I couldn’t say no to her. “We have time for coffee,” I said warmly.

She perked right up, smiling. “Great. Mia, would you be a dear and get him a mug?”

Mia threw her hands up in defeat. “Sure. Anything else? Perhaps a hot stone massage?”

Her mom ignored the sarcasm. “Why not some glasses of water too? Need to stay hydrated.”

“Okay,” Mia said, walking toward the kitchen. Damn, she looked good in her travel outfit—all soft green material that clung to her curves. But I shouldn’t be checking her out so much in front of her parents.

Her mom looped her arm through mine as we followed Mia. “And some of those chocolate-covered biscuits if you have them,” she said.

Mia chuckled. “You know I do.”

We went into Mia’s kitchen. I tried not to be obvious about staring around her space and trying to get a deeper sense of who she was. But her home was minimalistic and efficient, giving little away. I could see more of her in her interactions with her parents. Right now, she wasn’t a boss—she was a daughter.

As we settled in at the island, I said, “I’m impressed. I think that’s the only time I’ve seen Mia taking orders instead of giving them.”

Her dad laughed. “So you do know her.”

“ Dad ,” Mia griped as she handed me a mug of coffee. Then she whispered, “Ignore them,” a playful smile on her lips.

Something about the exchange endeared me to her more. She wasn’t just a strong, forceful leader. She was someone’s daughter, and it was clear how much they loved her.

Joanne said, “Ford, what do you have planned for the weekend in Cottonwood Falls?”

I took a sip of coffee and answered, “I’d love to show Mia around the ranch where I grew up. We have horses and cattle. A few pigs. And then all my family lives there. I’d like for her to meet them.”

Mia dropped a package of cookies on the floor. “Sorry... clumsy,” she muttered.

“That sounds lovely,” Joanne replied. “Does all your family work on the ranch?”

I shook my head. “It’s really just enough for my dad to manage, but they help him out when they can.” I told them about Fletcher’s and Hayes’s businesses, Knox’s job as an officer, and how well Bryce had been doing in college.

Her dad said, “Your parents must be proud.”

I nodded. I hoped my mom would be proud of me, but I knew my dad sure was. “You must be proud of Mia here,” I countered as Mia set the cookies on the counter, a few to a plate for each of us. She kept the broken ones for herself.

“Of course we are,” her dad said, giving her a warm smile. “But we always knew she’d do big things. I knew it when she was thirteen months old and handed me her diaper then laid down on the pad, like ‘I’m waiting.’”

Mia covered her face, but I could still see the tips of her ears reddening.

Joanne chuckled as she dunked a cookie in her cream-colored coffee. “Mia, I’m sure between a dad and four brothers, there will be plenty of stories about Ford too.”

My stomach dropped. I hadn’t thought of that. Why hadn’t I thought of that?

Like he sensed my inner turmoil, Hugh patted my shoulder. “Good luck.”

Mia shook her head at us.

Her mom gave us a thoughtful look, like she was comparing Mia and me as a couple. “Are your parents supportive of the age difference?”

Mia and I glanced at each other, and I could feel her nerves as she waited for my answer. “My family’s very much a ‘live and let live’ kind of bunch. They’re happy for me if I’m happy...” I reached across the counter for Mia’s hand and squeezed it. “And I am... happy.”

She smiled at me. “I am too,” she almost whispered.

For the next fifteen minutes or so, we held hands as we all sat at the Carrera marble island, chatting and getting to know each other. But then Joanne and Hugh excused themselves, saying they better let us get on the road. Mia and I went with them down the elevator, her bags in tow.

When we reached the ground floor, she hugged them both, long and hard. And then they surprised me by hugging me too.

“Drive safe with my girl,” her mom said.

“I will,” I promised.

They got into their silver sedan, and Mia and I both waved as they backed out of the parking garage and drove away. When they were gone, Mia immediately said, “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to spring that on you. I know meeting the parents is a big deal and?—”

“Whoa,” I said, running my hands down her arms. She looked adorable in green, her hair pulled into a knot at the nape of her neck. “You’re meeting my dad, my whole family. I think it’s more than fair.”

She tilted her head. “Is it though? They even asked about our age difference. And the diaper story...” She winced.

“And I like your parents. Your dad’s a card. And your mom is trouble.”

She tossed her head back and laughed. “True. Thank you for being so kind to them. They’re going to tell all their friends how they know a famous person now.”

I dropped the tailgate of my pickup and lifted the shell to put her bags inside. “Maybe we should drop by and visit them, give them more to talk about.”

Her expression was unreadable as she studied me. “You’d do that?”

After I finished loading her bags in the truck bed, I went to her, kissing her forehead. “For you? Of course. If you can’t tell, Mia, I kinda like you.”

“I kinda like you too.” She reached around my waist, holding on to me for a moment. Then she looked up at me and said, “Have I mentioned how hot you are in cowboy boots?” Her hand wound down to my backside, giving it a squeeze.

She might have meant it playfully, but after two weeks apart, I was desperate for her. It took all I had not to pick her up and take her right in the garage.

I leaned closer, whispering in her ear, “I’ll wear them for you every day if that’s what you want.”

“Might be hard to play football in them,” she breathed.

“I was thinking of other activities,” I countered, nipping at her ear.

“Keep talking like that and we’re not going to make it to Cottonwood Falls.”

I was about to agree, wholeheartedly, when a car came into the garage. She jumped, surprised by the visitor, and I chuckled low, reaching for the truck door to open it for her.

Her cheeks were flushed with color as she got in, and I shut it for her. We were going to Cottonwood Falls. Even if we had to stop along the way to... stretch our legs.

As I started the familiar path out of Dallas, my adrenaline hummed like it always did before a game. But this time, I didn’t have defenders looking to take me out or a win on the line.

I had a beautiful woman in the seat beside me and a decision to make.

We hadn’t defined what we had, and I knew I couldn’t stall forever. Could I give up on all my rules to have a relationship with her? A real one? I looked over at her, and when she caught me looking, she smiled.

It was as natural as breathing to extend my hand for her, to hold it as I drove with one hand on the wheel. She smiled over at me again.

“What?” I asked.

“I was just thinking about how good you’d look in a cowboy hat.”