Chapter 10
Ford
Harper stands frozen on the sidewalk, clutching a box in her hands as I pull up to the curb. Snowflakes swirl around her, framing her like a winter angel. “Hop in. I’ll give you a ride home,” I call out after rolling down the passenger side window.
I half-expect her to resist, but she simply climbs in, the box settling in her lap, and fastens her seatbelt. Something’s off, and I dread that it might relate to last night. The thought of her regretting it gnaws at me.
“What’s wrong?”
It’s tough to keep my eyes on the road when I want to read her expression, but the snow makes driving tricky. Everyone in town seems to lose their wits with the first snowfall.
“I got cornered,” Harper replies.
“Cornered?”
“I basically agreed to attend every event Kenzie has planned before the wedding. She painted me as the villain for not being a bridesmaid.”
No wonder she looks so shaken. Why would she want to attend the wedding of her ex and former best friend? It’s baffling anyone would think she’d want to witness the marriage of the two people who betrayed her the most.
“Sounds like Kenzie,” I say as I pull into her driveway.
I wish her parents lived further from Main Street, giving us more time together in this confined space, but the town is small enough that it takes only about fifteen minutes to drive from one end to the other and around the perimeter.
I can’t figure out how to stretch this moment without leaving Frosthaven Falls.
Harper unbuckles her seatbelt and turns to face me, placing the box on the dashboard. “Be honest. Has Kenzie always been this way? This… manipulative?”
I scrunch my nose and nod. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“How could I not see it?”
“Because you see the best in people. Kenzie, on the other hand, is selfish and jealous.”
Her laughter surprises me. “Of what? She has Asher. She stole him. She wins.”
“It’s not really about Asher. He’s just a piece of the puzzle. What she craves is feeling superior to you.”
Her eyebrows lift in disbelief. “And this doesn’t make her superior? She’s getting everything I had or was about to have. I don’t see how she can get any higher.”
“Everyone in town likes you. They…” I hesitate, searching for a way to phrase it without sounding harsh.
“…tolerate Kenzie. Her engagement announcement barely made a ripple. Even the outrage she anticipated didn’t materialize.
But when you got engaged, it was all anyone talked about for weeks. Trust me on that.”
“It’s about attention?”
“Kind of. Kenzie has always been jealous of you. She doesn’t quite grasp that how she got Asher shocked no one but you. The lack of reaction from everyone convinces her that you’ve outshone her.”
Resting her head against the headrest, she shakes it slowly, staring at my chest. “She won’t be satisfied until she’s completely humiliated me, will she?”
“Probably not. But you can fight back easily. It’s not hard to throw Kenzie off her game.”
Her smile sparks a deep yearning in me to reach out, to kiss her, to hold her close forever. The way Asher walked away from Harper for Kenzie remains a puzzle I’ll never grasp. “How?”
“Don’t let her embarrass you. Let everything she says roll off your shoulders. Don’t show her any emotion. Kenzie will spiral pretty damn fast if she doesn’t get a rise out of you.”
She looks up and locks eyes with me. “I don’t know if I can do that.”
“It’ll get easier the more you try.”
She smiles softly. “I hope so. It’s tough right now. Then again, I’m still hungover.”
“Feeling any better?”
“Yeah. And, Ford, I’m sorry about the kiss last night—”
“Don’t,” I interrupt, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Her gaze searches mine, and I hope she sees the truth I’ve kept hidden since the day we met: how much I care for her and desire her.
We lean closer until our lips meet. Her cheeks warm beneath my palms as I trace my thumb along her jawline. The faint scent of her shampoo—something floral and sweet—fills my senses.
Her lips part slightly, hesitant at first, then more certain. The truck’s heater hums in the background, fogging the windows around us into our own private world.
My heart hammers against my ribs as her hand finds my collar, fingers curling into the fabric. The taste of coffee lingers on her tongue—stronger, more deliberate than last night’s whiskey-tinged kiss. This is Harper fully here, fully choosing this.
She pulls back suddenly. Her pupils are wide, darkening her blue eyes as she stares at me. Her fingertips hover over her mouth, trembling slightly. The rapid rise and fall of her chest matches the pulse pounding in my ears. I wait, watching her swallow hard, the silence stretching between us.
“I did it again.”
“No, you didn’t. I did.”
I can feel her panic, and it frustrates me. “Ford—”
“I want to clarify, Harper. What happened last night was exactly what I wanted. Just like now.”
Her panic lingers, and I see it reflected in her wide blue eyes, still tracing her fingers along her lips.
“Better get inside before the wind picks up. You might get lost between the driveway and the house,” I joke lightly.
Her smile flashes quick relief, and something twists inside my chest. She tucks her hair behind her ear, eyes darting to her lap, then the door handle.
My fingers grip the steering wheel tighter, knuckles whitening.
The heater keeps humming, but the air between us has cooled.
I force myself to nod, to return her smile, even as I notice how she’s shifted her body slightly toward the passenger door, creating just enough distance.
“Thank you, Ford. For the ride. And for everything else.”
I watch as she climbs out of the pickup, her boots crunching in the fresh snow. My hand twitches on the gearshift, body leaning forward slightly before I force myself back against the seat.
The porch light catches in her hair as she fumbles with her keys. Three steps to her door. Four seconds of restraint. My knuckles whiten on the steering wheel as memories of Asher’s arm around her shoulders flash through my mind. How easily he discarded what I’d give anything to have.
My hand hovers over the door handle. One quick movement and I could follow her, catch her before she disappears inside. My throat tightens watching her silhouette against the porch light.
I force my fingers back to the steering wheel, exhaling slowly as frost forms with each breath. The engine idles beneath me while I count her footsteps away.
Five years I’ve watched her smile at someone else. Five seconds now to let her go inside alone. The truck remains in park until her door closes, until the yellow rectangle of light vanishes, until the ache in my chest subsides enough to drive away.