18
Ford
It’s been a couple of weeks since Stormy arrived, and it’s been strangely quiet. I haven’t seen much of her, and honestly, it’s been kind of a relief. Missy mentioned she’s been busy with the building she bought, caught up in whatever mess she’d found herself in.
Missy told me which empty lot it is, and a small pang of guilt tugged at me for how I’d spoken about her bookstore at my mom’s. I hadn’t meant for any of it to come off as harsh or that I didn’t believe she had it in her to make it work. But this is a tightknit community, and I’m just not sure about how they will take it. And it was that moment at the table when I remembered why I didn’t want her here, because if I started to feel anything for this woman, it might just as easily be gone in the next instant. So, I have to keep up these walls I’ve built, because maybe I’m right to be wary … because maybe Stormy will move back to England after all.
No one else had wanted that place because of the sheer amount of work it needs, and I get it, there’s no saving that wreck without deep pockets and a lot of patience. A part of me had hoped that would be enough to makeher pack up and leave. Maybe I needed her to … before I let myself care. So far, though, she hasn’t.
Apparently, she’s been working away, tracking down people to help fix it up or researching how to do the repairs herself.
The only time I see her is in the mornings, when I have to drag Buddy away from her. Every damn day, he trots off to her garden, finds her perched on that swing seat with her nose buried in a book, his tail wagging like he’s found his new favourite person.
Now, my alarm blares at 5.30 a.m., the same as it does every day. I peel back the covers, swing my legs over the side of the bed, and get myself ready. Jeans, shirt, boots, cap … routine, predictable, familiar.
I head downstairs, open the back door, and let Buddy out and sort myself some breakfast. But instead of disappearing for ages like he usually does, he’s back within moments.
That’s strange. I glance out the window, following his usual path. Then, I spot her.
Stormy is curled up on the swing seat, asleep. Her book lies abandoned on the ground in front of her, its pages flipping lazily in the breeze.
I should look away. I should go back to my breakfast. Instead, I find myself moving, pushing open the door, stepping over the fence, and slipping into her garden like I belong there. I crouch down, picking up her book and placing it gently beside her. She shifts slightly, curling deeper into the cushions. She looks exhausted, like she hasn’t had a proper night’s sleep in weeks. Her face is peaceful, but there’s tension there, like even in her rest, something weighs her down.
The breeze shifts, carrying the chill of early morning through the air and she shivers, whimpering softly as she tucks herself closer into the cushions. The throw she brought out with her has slipped to her waist, offering no real protection against the cold.
I hesitate.
Then, before I can talk myself out of it, I carefully pull the blanket up, making sure it rests snugly around her shoulders.
Buddy watches the whole thing, his snout resting lightly against her covered leg. His tail gives the faintest wag, like he’s proud of me for following him out and tending to Stormy.
I sigh as I crouch beside him.
"You just can’t stay away, can you?" I mutter, scratching behind his ear. "Every damn morning, you come looking for her."
He lets out a soft huff, content but watchful.
The breeze shifts again, and she shivers.
I exhale heavily, scrubbing a hand through my hair.
“Fuck’s sake," I mutter, not at her, but at myself. At the way I’m tucking the blanket tighter, making sure she’s warm, comfortable, looked after. Like I haven’t been the one trying to keep his distance.
Buddy lets out a soft whine, nudging at her leg more insistently.
"Don’t," I warn, nudging his snout away. "You wake her up, and she’s gonna think we’re just standing here gawking like idiots."
He lets out another small whine, unimpressed.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it," I mutter. "You like her. But that doesn’t mean you need to drag me into it."
Buddy noses her again, wagging his tail now.
This is exactly why I wanted her gone. Because the last thing I need is to start caring.
I groan, as I push myself upright.
"Alright, we’re done. We’re leaving before she wakes up and I have to explain why I’m standing here like a creep in her garden."
