Chapter 19
Harper
The tree lighting was as perfect a night as I could imagine. Ford secured a spot at the front, holding me close as we waited. I leaned against him, wishing he’d make another move, yet relieved when he didn’t.
Our names are already whispered together around town, as if everyone knows something brewing between us—things I didn’t even know we were doing. At least the gossip about Asher and me has faded.
Snowflakes begin to fall again as the crowd thins out. I smile and catch a few in my mittens while he keeps his arms wrapped around me.
“You and snow,” Ford laughs, his voice reverberating against my back.
“I love it. What can I say?”
“How was the tree lighting this year?”
As he turns, he has to let me go, but I press my front against him. “The best year yet.”
“Really?”
I nod and smile up at him. My answer seems to brighten his mood, and I enjoy this side of him. He had been so brooding before. Happy Ford feels lighter.
“We should get you home,” he says, his mouth mere inches from mine.
As much as I want to kiss him again, this wasn’t the right place—not with people watching. “Good plan.”
He opens the pickup door for me, and I take his hand to step inside. As he shuts the door and walk around to his side, he nearly slips, and I can’t help but laugh.
“It’s slick out,” he warn.
“Well, it is winter,” I reply.
“Funny girl.”
His hand crosses the center console, wool-covered fingers sliding between mine.
The truck’s heater blasts against my face, but my cheeks burn from something else entirely.
My pulse quickens beneath the layers of yarn, our palms pressed together like two snow angels merging into one.
I stare at our joined hands, wondering if he can feel my heartbeat through the knitted barrier.
“Do you like living in Pittsburgh?” he asks.
“It’s nice having more areas for backdrops, but I miss being home. I only moved because of Asher.”
“Really?”
I nod as he pulls up to the curb outside my house. “Yeah. It was his idea. I would’ve been happy here, but he needed to network.”
“Didn’t do him a lick of good, did it?”
“You can’t hustle when you’re lazy,” I says. “He liked making money while it lasted, but he hated how much work it took. Then it tapered off, and he didn’t like being broke anymore. But he never did anything to change it.”
“Did I tell you he did my first website for me?”
I turn in my seat, shaking my head. “No, he never mentioned that.”
“It was terrible.”
I laugh. “I know. He’s still mad I wouldn’t let him build mine. There has to be a certain aesthetic for my job, and he just doesn’t have that.”
“He wouldn’t speak to me for six months after I hired someone else. All he does is edit Wix templates and calls them his own.”
“You noticed that too, huh?”
“Well, if you decide to move back, the town misses you. We’d love to have you home.”
I raise an eyebrow. “The town?”
“Yes, the town. It doesn’t feel like home without you.”
All I can do is shake my head. “Maybe if I’d been home more often, I’d still be engaged. Asher wouldn’t have found a reason to cheat on me.”
“Asher would have done it anyway. You were thriving in your career and earning more than he ever did. You didn’t rely on him. Kenzie does, though. For what reason, I can’t quite grasp, but that’s what a guy like Asher craves. Feeling superior.”
“Well, it’s hard to believe he can feel that way with Kenzie. She always wants to be on top.” I wince and laugh at my words. “Which takes on a whole new meaning now.”
Ford sighs, shaking his head. “Don’t you see? Kenzie only wants Asher because he was yours. Her entire life has revolved around competing with you, Harper.”
“That’s not true. We were great friends once,” I insist, but doubt creeps in. This isn’t the direction I expected our conversation to take. I had hoped for another kiss now that we’re at my house, away from the bustling town.
“Who won prom queen?” he asks.
I shrug. “It’s not like I campaigned for it.”
“No, but Kenzie did. And what about homecoming queen?”
“I didn’t nominate myself.”
He laughs, rubbing his thumb over the top of my mitten. “No, but Kenzie did. You were nominated by others.”
“She can’t really think that’s my fault, can she?” Even as I say it, I know it sounds absurd. Of course, she blames me.
“And what about your sixteenth birthday party? It was a huge bash. Almost everyone from school showed up.”
I frown. “What about it?”
“Kenzie’s birthday was two weeks earlier, and hardly anyone came.”
I know he’s mistaken. “That’s because she wanted something intimate with just her friends. She told us that when we arrived for the sleepover.”
“No, she invited the whole school, and no one showed up. That’s her own doing because she always acted superior. But in her mind, it’s another slight against you.”
“That’s kind of sad, actually.”
He lifts his hand to cup my face. “And that’s why everyone likes you and not her. Kenzie competes with you out of insecurity. Now that she has something she took from you, she believes she’s truly the queen.”
“And what? Asher’s the king?”
It’s a wild thought. Asher is far from king material, and I’m relieved I recognized that before I committed myself to him for life.
Ford chuckles. “I suppose so. Or maybe he’s just the prize. The crown.”
“She can have it,” I reply.
“Let’s get you inside.”
He rushes to open my door, helping me step out. The snow-covered ground is slick beneath my feet, and I begin to slip. Instinctively, I grab onto Ford, and soon we’re tumbling together.
He twists, landing flat on his back in the yard while I land on top of him. I freeze, wide-eyed, as he holds me close, worried I might have hurt him.
“Oh my God, Ford, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
The world around us is quiet, the evening illuminated by falling snow and twinkling Christmas lights. It feels surprisingly romantic.
“I’m fine. Are you okay?” Ford asks, his hand finding my face again.
“Me? You broke my fall.”
“Yeah, that was kind of the plan, baby,” he smirks. “I can handle a lot.”
His eyes catch the Christmas lights, turning them into constellations. He caught me. He actually caught me. My mittens press against his chest as I lower my face to his, our breath clouding between us before disappearing as our lips meet.
His mouth is soft, then hungry. One strong hand slides up my neck, fingers tangling in my hair.
The wool of his coat scratches my palms through my mittens as I press closer, tasting bitter coffee and sweet cider on his tongue.
Snow melts against my knees, seeping through my jeans, but I barely notice the cold with his warmth beneath me.
The sudden flood of yellow light makes me gasp. My knee jerks up instinctively as I twist toward the house. Ford’s sharp intake of breath turns into a strangled “Hnnngh” as his hands fly from my hair to between his legs, his face contorting.
Smooth move, Harper. Real smooth.