Chapter 52 Ford
Ford
We’re washing plaster off our hands in the back room when the bell over the door jingles. I ease around the corner, expecting Missy swinging by with coffee. But it’s Marlene from the flower shop.
I freeze for half a second. She’s probably one of the last people I expected to see in here.
Stormy comes up beside me, laughing softly, her face flushed from my whispered comment about how she’s got me so undone I’d take her right here on the counter if she’d let me. Her hair’s streaked, and her cheeks are pink. We must look ridiculous covered in plaster, grinning like idiots.
Marlene pauses just inside the doorway, eyes flicking between us. And then she smiles. Not tight-lipped or polite. A real smile.
Stormy straightens, her laugh fading.
“Oh … hi,” she says, voice tentative. “Can I help you?”
I shift closer, instinctively placing a hand on the small of Stormy’s back. Ready to step in if Marlene’s about to go off again like she did at book club. Stormy doesn’t need that today. Not after the week she’s had.
But Marlene just nods, her gaze softening.
“I’m Marlene,” she says, stepping forward. “From the flower shop. I heard you’re planning writing workshops for kids?”
My mom must’ve given her two cents about the bookstore after Stormy and I left yesterday.
Stormy blinks.
“Yes,” she says slowly. “I … I’ve been thinking about it. Hoping to start something when we open.”
Marlene smiles again, this time with something like warmth.
“I’d love for my daughter to be involved. She’s shy, but she loves stories. I think this could be good for her.”
Stormy’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out. I watch her shoulders lift, then drop, like she’s bracing for something that doesn’t come.
“I know I had things to say back in book club,” Marlene continues. “And I apologise. I’ve had a bit of time to think about this little shop of yours, and … I’m starting to see it’s a good thing. Not a bad one.”
Stormy’s eyes widen, lips parting in surprise. She glances at me, and I catch the smile blooming across her face. I smile back. Then she turns that smile on Marlene.
She leads Marlene towards the counter to talk through details, and I stand back, watching.
She looks back at me, a big smile stretching across her face, and the pride that blooms in my chest is overwhelming.
She’s doing it—building something, earning trust, and making space for herself in a town that didn’t know what to do with her at first.
She’s not just holding her own, she’s changing minds.
And damn if I’m not the luckiest man alive to be standing beside her while she does.
I give her a subtle thumbs-up, hoping she can see just how amazing she is. Then I turn back to the mess we’ve made, tidying up with a grin that I can’t quite shake.
As Marlene finishes jotting down her number, Stormy thanks her with that soft, radiant smile that still knocks the breath out of me. I wait until they wrap up, then cross the room and slide an arm around her waist, pulling her close.
“You were amazing,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her temple. She leans into me, her body warm against mine, and I feel her exhale, like she’s finally letting herself believe it.
Marlene heads for the door, her purse swinging at her side. But just before she steps out, she pauses and turns.
“Oh, Ford,” she says, brows lifting. “You know John’s son, Will? I think you went to school together?”
My body goes still. Stormy stiffens.
“Well,” Marlene continues, oblivious, “I guess he’s leaving town. Heard he’s moving in with his mom across state. Finally got tired of this place, I suppose.”
Stormy’s hand tightens around mine. I feel the tension ripple through her. My jaw clenches, but I keep my arm firm around her.
“Convenient timing,” I say, voice low.
Marlene gives me a curious half puzzled, half amused look but shrugs.
“Anyway. I’m glad we talked Stormy. I’ll be in touch.”
She leaves with a bounce in her step, and the bell jingles behind her.
Stormy doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to. I can feel it in the way she’s holding herself. I brush a thumb across her cheek and press another kiss to her temple, this one slower. “He’s gone,” I whisper against her skin. “You don’t have to see him again.”
Such a goddamn coward, skipping town instead of facing the fallout … Although, I know I wouldn’t have stomached seeing him around here. Not after what he did. Stormy deserves peace. Space to build something without ghosts lurking in the corners.
So good riddance. Let him go. Let him hide behind state lines and a mother who’ll coddle his excuses.
I hope he never sets foot in this town again.
Stormy stays quiet for a beat longer and I keep my arm around her. Then she exhales and turns towards me. Her eyes are still shadowed, but there’s something else dancing there now. Something lighter.
She leans in and presses a soft kiss to my cheek.
“Will, who?” she says, voice quiet and almost playful.
But I see the way her shoulders are still tense. The way her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Stormy …” I begin, but before I can say anything, before I can tell her she doesn’t need to hide from her hurt, she speaks.
“Like you said, Ford, he’s gone.” Her voice is steady, but there’s heat in it now. Not anger. Resolve.
“I’m done spending time and energy on men like him,” she says. “This is my life. Mine. Nobody gets to control it but me.”
She presses another sweet kiss to my lips this time. Then she pulls back, hopping up onto the counter, swinging her legs like she’s trying to shake off the weight of the moment. And then her smile curves, sly and teasing.
“So,” she says, changing the subject, tilting her head. “What was it you were saying earlier? Something about being undone on this counter?”
There’s a glint in her eye— flirty, mischievous, and just a little daring. It’s the kind of look I’m never going to get used to. It’s a look that makes my breath catch and my heart kick against my ribs.
I stand there for a moment, looking at this brave, beautiful woman in front of me. She’s so much braver than she knows. Not because she’s pretending that she’s fine, but because she’s choosing to feel it, to carry the ache and still move forwards.
She’s refusing to let someone unworthy take up space in her mind.
She’s still healing. Of course she is.
And maybe one day, it’ll sneak up on her again—the memory and the sting of it all. But if it does, I’ll be here. I’ll help her hold it. Help her walk through it, piece by piece.
Because this is her life. And no one gets to take that from her.
I step closer, hands finding her knees, voice rough with affection. “I stand by every word.”
She laughs. The sound is brighter now, and I swear the whole world feels warmer for it.