Chapter 2
Harper
Idon’t head straight home. I also haven’t informed anyone of my arrival. If I’m going to be here for a month, I need to make one crucial stop before I settle into my childhood bedroom for weeks: the liquor store.
As I walk along the sidewalk toward Main Street Liquors, the familiarity washes over me. Almost forgotten, but not quite. The whispers follow me as I pass. Couples and people on their phones mention my name, or Asher’s, or Kenzie’s. Some even say all three.
I place six bottles of red wine on the counter, resigning myself to the fact that tomorrow’s headlines will likely read: HARPER WALLACE COMES HOME AND BUYS OUT THE LIQUOR STORE.
But can anyone really blame me? I’m back in town to help plan my sister’s wedding after my failed engagement, while my ex-fiancé is now engaged to my ex-best friend. If anyone deserves to indulge in nightly drinks, it’s definitely me.
Besides, it’s just six bottles of wine. It could be six bottles of vodka. Or ten bottles of tequila.
Now I’m justifying my choices. This must be how alcoholism starts. Fantastic.
“Back home for the—” Tommy begins, but his eyes widen when who I am dawns on him.
He was about to ask about Asher and Kenzie.
“Holidays?” I suggest instead, smiling at him. “Actually, I’m here because of Gina.”
He relaxes, and I’m puzzled by why he expected an outburst. We’ve known each other since elementary school, and I’ve never been one for scenes.
In fact, I despise them. I’m basically like Jennifer Connelly’s character in He’s Just Not That Into You when Bradley Cooper confesses to cheating on her in Home Depot.
She assumes he chose to do it then because she hates drama and creating a scene.
That’s me, right there.
“Oh, right. She got engaged. Why such a quick engagement?” His tone carries the unspoken question that everyone has: Is Gina Wallace pregnant?
“You know my sister. She’s always done things her own way. Traditional isn’t in her vocabulary. I wonder if she wants her married name on her doctorate diploma she’ll earn in a few months. It would make it easier to be married by then.”
This makes him laugh. “That’s true. Gina can find a reason for anything, can’t she?”
“Can’t we all?” I reply, taking the bag he hands me.
Most bottles are nestled in paper sacks to minimize clinking, and I realize that maybe six bottles wasn’t the best idea after all.
As I step outside, I freeze when I spot Asher’s mom getting out of her car across the street. Dorothy is a drunk—a fact we all choose to ignore—and she’s heading straight for me. I can’t let her see me.
Turning right, I dart into the nearest door, keeping my back to the glass to avoid being recognized.
The last person I want to talk to is Asher’s mom. I can only imagine what Dorothy might say.
“Harper?”
I whip my head up and lock eyes with Crawford Stokes, Asher’s best friend. Great.
“Ford. Hi.”
He glances at the window and chuckles. “Avoiding her?”
“I’m not ready for that confrontation yet,” I admit.
Wow, Ford looks good. I haven’t seen him since we moved to Pittsburgh, and I’m amazed at how much he’s changed. The short dark beard he now sports accentuates his already chiseled jaw—the kind that looks like it was carved from marble by a Renaissance sculptor with something to prove.
His once shaggy hair is trimmed close on the sides, drawing attention to eyes the color of chocolate.
The sleeves of his flannel shirt strain against biceps that I don’t think were there three years ago, and when he reaches across the counter, the fabric pulls taut across broad shoulders dusted with sawdust. The buttons of his shirt fight a losing battle against what must be a washboard stomach underneath.
Wow.
“I don’t blame you. I’ve been avoiding her too. I’m conveniently busy whenever she reaches out for help.”
I take a moment to look around and realize where I am. “Wait, you work for Mr. Miller? I thought he was selling TrueCut.”
“He did. I bought it, and you’re now standing in Heartwood & Home.”
Ford was always handy, but I didn’t know he loved carpentry enough to buy Mr. Miller’s business. “Good for you.”
“And you’re doing great with your photography,” he says. “I’ve seen your work. Honestly, I don’t know how you manage it.”
This makes me blush, and I glance down. “Most people think it’s crazy because all you have to do these days is point your phone and click. But there’s so much more to it.”
“I believe that. You’ve always had a great eye, though, Kenzie. You’ve never taken a bad picture.”
“That’s not true.”
“It doesn’t count if the subjects aren’t photogenic.”
I laugh, leaning against the counter with a sigh. “I wasn’t planning on coming home anytime soon, especially not after Kenzie’s Instagram post.”
“Don’t go on Facebook.”
Groaning, I shake my head. “I did.”
“Why would you do that?”
“To torture myself?” I shrug, unsure.
“I still can’t believe he moved on with Kenzie. That’s a dick move, even for Asher. A man doesn’t move in on his ex’s best friend.”
“Ex-best friend,” I correct him.
The truth is, I can’t fathom how they could do this. I’m pretty sure they started dating before Asher ended our engagement. I don’t want to know for certain. It might break me.
“Here for Gina’s wedding?”
I look up at Ford, grateful he’s shifted the conversation. “Yep. Heading to the house now. How’d you hear about it?”
Ford Stokes has always been the quiet type. He and Asher are best friends—still are, as far as I know—but he never chats with people around town just for the sake of it.
“Your dad. He asked me to help with the wedding arch Gina and Lance plan to use. There are a few broken and chipped pieces.”
“I think my parents are just relieved that Gina’s finally doing something in the right order. None of us ever thought she’d get married, so there’s that.”
“It was a bit of a shock. Word around town is that she’s knocked up. Is that true?”
I shrug again. “Not that I know of. I just found out about the engagement yesterday.”
He frowns, and there’s something endearing about the way his forehead creases. “You weren’t there for it? Lance got down on one knee during dinner. At least, that’s what the town reported.”
Maybe it’s not just his looks that have changed. “I didn’t come home. Trust me, that would have overshadowed Gina’s engagement.”
“That’s true.”
“So, Asher and Kenzie are getting married on Christmas Eve?” I ask, disbelief creeping into my voice.
“I can’t believe he’s planning to do it at Starlight Manor, too.”
My jaw drops. “What?”
“You didn’t know?”
Silence fills the space between us. I can’t articulate how much I want to strangle both Asher and Kenzie. She took the man I thought I’d marry. She stole my wedding date. And now he’s using the venue?
The worst part? I’m pretty sure I paid for it. Asher claimed we couldn’t get any of my money back when he canceled, but I wouldn’t put it past him to keep it and use my money to marry another woman.
“Harper? Are you okay?”
“I have to go,” I say, forcing a smile as I head toward the door. Dorothy’s car is gone, so I know I’m in the clear. “It was really good to see you, Ford.”
“You, too. You really are a sight for sore eyes, Harper.”
If I weren’t in such a whirlwind, I might read more into that than there is, but I need to get home. I need to lock myself in my room and scream into a pillow.
Damn it, Gina. Why did you have to get married now?