Missy rolls her eyes.
“Yes, brother, I’m galloping there as we speak! Don’t panic.”
She pushes off the wall and gives us a theatrical wink, and a slow suggestive eyebrow raise.
“Have fun, kids,” she sings. Then, before closing the door softly behind her, she whispers to me, “Told you he’d love it.”
My cheeks turn warm, and I look up at Ford, my smile caught between nerves and a new sense of comfort. For a moment, the world hushes, and it’s just us suspended in this moment of tenderness.
He reaches for my hand with a gentle, reassuring touch.
“You ready?” he asks, voice quiet.
I nod, heart thudding.
His smile is soft, and somehow, it steadies me.
41
Ford
Stormy grabs herself something warm to put on for the cool evening breeze that’s beginning to stir outside, and then I guide her to my truck, where Buddy waits patiently. As soon as he notices us coming, he perks up, tail wagging and then hops into the back—apparently, it’s his new favourite spot whenever Stormy’s around.
“You don’t mind Buddy tagging along, do you?” I ask, opening the door for her, and hoping she’s okay with it. “I think he’d be a little jealous if I went out with you without him.”
She laughs, making that endearing little sound that I’ve grown so fond of. “Of course I don’t.” She reaches out to where his head rests between the seats, giving him a gentle scratch as she climbs in. “Hey, little buddy.”
I close the door behind her and pause for a breath, trying to steady my heart because it’s been racing since she opened that door. She looks breathtaking tonight. She always does, but tonight, there’s something about her that feels almost unreal. Maybe it’s the way the evening light catches in hereyes, or maybe it’s just the simple truth that she’s here, with me. Whatever it is, I can’t take my eyes off her
That dress, pink and delicate, is just like her. And I don’t mean that in a way that makes her seem fragile, but in a way that makes her feel precious. She’s someone you hold close, and someone you never take for granted.
Those soft blonde waves … the way they frame her face. And that barely-there makeup … She doesn’t need anything extra to impress me. She already has. I like her for who she is, no filters, no performance. Just Stormy
I slide into the driver’s seat and pull the door until it clicks shut behind me. Suddenly, the cab feels full with her in here. She’s everywhere, with her soft cardigan, floaty dress, and the faint scent of coconut and vanilla emanating from her shampoo. Everything in me aches to reach for her and to pull her close and kiss her, slowly, endlessly, across her lips, down the curve of her neck, and over the delicate line of her collarbone.
But I catch myself before the thought runs too far. Before she notices the heat rising on my neck and the way my breath’s gone uneven.
I glance at the dashboard instead.
6.00 p.m.
Perfect.
I glance over at Stormy with a smile.
“I’ve got a little surprise for you before our date,” I say, starting the engine. “We’ll just make it in time before the place closes.”
Her eyes widen, smile blooming like sunlight breaking through clouds.
“You planned a surprise?” she asks, voice laced with disbelief and delight. I know she’s not used to being the one surprised, and God, the way she says it makes me want to do it a hundred times over.
I just smile and nod, keeping the rest to myself.
She’ll know soon enough, and I can’t wait to see her face.
She twists in her seat, glancing back at Buddy, who’s now sitting tall in the back, tail thumping against the upholstery. Then she looks at me, then back to Buddy again, eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Buddy,” she mouths, mock serious. “Do you know what the surprise is? Come on, tell me. Whisper it in my ear.”
