His hands traveled down to the hem of the loose-fitting Landsman shirt I was wearing. Ford tickled my bare thigh. "You might want to put some clothes on before I let security in," he said.
I frowned but headed to the bedroom and gathered my clothes. It only took a few moments to tug on my jeans, slip on my bra and shirt, and rake my fingers through my hair. Ford was surprised I pulled myself together so quickly.
He held out his hand and threaded his fingers through mine. "Ready?" he asked.
I thought I was, but the trembling wave I had been holding back finally broke loose. Tears overflowed and I collapsed into Ford's arms with a ragged sob. "This is all my fault. All of it. This whole big mess started because my father wanted to help me. How could I let it turn out this way?"
"You're not in control, Clarity. You can't take the blame," Ford soothed me. "You're doing the best you can to help your father, and you are doing more than a lot of people would dare."
I wrapped my arms around his waist and refused to let him go. "I'm not letting you answer the door. They can't break it down."
Ford dropped a kiss on the top of my head. "Don't be mad at the campus security."
A surge of anger propelled me out of Ford's arms. I paced around his small living room. The spilled wax from last night's candles plus our forgotten wine glasses still stood on the coffee table. We had been so hopeful, so happy.
"I can't believe the bad guy is going to get away with it," I shrieked. "How can you stand it?"
Ford caught me in his arms again. "We can only control our own actions and the information we present to others. Michael Tailor has to live with his own actions and we can't force him to feel badly about his choices."
"How about your choices? Our choices?" I asked. I gestured to the rumpled sofa and the evidence of our passionate night.
"I don't regret a single thing," Ford said. His kiss sealed my lips and I felt one layer of worry lift.
"Please don't open the door," I pleaded.
Ford slipped out of my hold and unlocked the door. He stood back and welcomed the Landsman College security guards inside. "Good morning, gentlemen. You'll have to give me a few more minutes to pull myself together. I understand we're heading to the police station."
The head of security nodded, but none of the men in the doorway moved. Ford laughed when he realized my razor-sharp glare was the cause of their hesitation.
"How do we know they're not in the pocket of rich donors too?" I snapped. "I'm sure more than one of them has looked the other way when certain students are caught bending the rules."
"I'm not gonna lie," Ford said to the guards, "she might bite. But there's fresh coffee in the kitchen and you are more than welcome to grab a cup. I'll only be a few moments."
Ford saluted them and strolled towards his bedroom. I stomped after him and fought the urge to slam the bedroom door. "What are you doing?" I hissed. "Please tell me you're going to go out the window or something."
"Why would I run when I'm not guilty?" Ford asked.
"You offered them coffee!"
Ford smiled. "Well, it is pretty early in the morning." He caught my pained look and relented. "I'm sorry, Clarity, I know this is upsetting. The men out there are only doing their jobs and I can't take out my frustration on them."
I pulled open the bedroom door a crack and eyed the security guards. They stood in the doorway with their arms crossed, looking around, but not moving. "What if they're here to plant evidence or something? I bet Michael Tailor's gotten to at least one of them."
Ford distracted me by stripping off the robe he'd been wearing. He pulled on a clean pair of black dress pants and a crisp, blue button-down shirt. "Know thy enemy," Ford said. He nodded towards the door, "and they are not it."
Ford opened his bedroom door and called to the security guards. "I suppose I shouldn't wear a belt, right? Any other jail house fashion recommendations? Shoes without laces?" Ford asked. "I'm not too sad about skipping the tie. Ties were never really my thing."
One security guard smiled, then looked at his colleagues and immediately sobered his expression. Ford walked out of the bedroom and went to his desk. "Hope you don't mind if I send a few emails, quickly."
"We're not the one the police are waiting for," the head of security said.
"Exactly," Ford agreed. "And I'm telling you, I'm no expert barista, but I'm betting my coffee tastes a hell of a lot better than the coffee at the police station."
The one security officer took a step towards the kitchen but the head guard shook his head. "We're ready as soon as you are, Mr. Bauer."
Ford leaned back in his desk chair and sighed contentedly. "Now that sounds good. The whole 'professor' title never really sat well on me."
I left him carrying on his relaxed, one-way conversation with the security guards while I slipped into the bathroom. Despite Ford's reassurances, I couldn't follow his easy-going lead. My whole chest was so contracted, I felt like I couldn't get a full breath. It seemed like months since I had had a normal day.