These are things I’m learning to see more clearly. And that scares me. Because I’m starting to like this man.
Not just the way he looks at me, or the way he kissed the scar on my lip like it mattered.
But the way he is as a person.
And if Missy isn’t okay with this, if she saw us tonight and felt hurt or betrayed, then none of it can go anywhere.
I can’t be the reason this family breaks.
Even if part of me wants to believe Ford is the one who could help me heal.
“Hey,” he says, voice low. “Are you okay?”
I worry my bottom lip between my teeth, staring out at the dark stretch of road ahead. Ford’s hand still rests gently on my knee, but I don’t look at him. Not yet.
“I’m just …” The words stick in my throat, but I force them out. “I’m worried about Missy.”
His hand doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak. Just waits.
“She must have seen that,” I say, turning my head towards the passenger window, watching the fields blur past in the dusky glow. “And if she did … I don’t want her to be upset. She’s my friend, and I care about her. I don’t want things to get weird between us.”
I pause, releasing a heavy sigh. “You’re her brother, Ford. It’s not right.”
My fingers twist in my lap and my chest tightens. “I just … I don’t want to cause a problem … or to lose her over this.”
Ford squeezes my knee gently, and I finally look at him. “Stormy,” he says, voice low and sure, “you don’t have to worry about Missy. Trust me, she’ll be more than fine with it.”
I search his face, trying to believe him.
“She’ll be over the moon,” he adds, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “Like, borderline annoying about it, actually. She’s been rooting for this since before I even knew I felt anything for you.”
He pauses, like the words surprised him. His smile falters slightly, and he glances away, just for a second, like he’s trying to reel it back in.
“I mean,” he starts, clearing his throat, “I didn’t mean to make it sound like I’ve been … I don’t know. Planning this or something.”
But the admission is already out there, and it tentatively sits between us.
My brows lift as I’m caught off guard. Something flutters in my chest—something hopeful. But it’s also tangled with anxiety. With the memories of everything I’ve been through. With the way relationships have always turned out for me.
“You really think she won’t be upset?” I ask, needing to hear it again.
“I know she won’t,” he says. “She loves you. And she’s been waiting for me to stop being an idiot about you for weeks.”
I exhale, the tension loosening in my shoulders. My fingers relax in my lap, and I nod slowly. But I must still look uneasy, because Ford glances over at me again, his brow creasing.
“Is that all it is?” he asks gently. “Just Missy?”
I hesitate. My throat feels tight again.
My eyes drift to the rearview mirror, catching the soft sway of the pendant hanging there. The small silver charm swings gently with the motion of the truck. Back and forth. Back and forth. A metronome ticking through the silence. And something about it makes me feel like I can’t keep this in. If I don’t say it now, I’ll lose the moment—or worse, let him believe that everything is okay.
I take a breath, slow and shaky.
“No,” I admit, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not just that.” I look down at my hands, then back out the window. “I didn’t come here looking for anything like this. I didn’t expect it. And now that it’s here … now that we’ve … kissed.” I swallow. “It scares me a little.”
Ford doesn’t speak right away. His hand stays on my knee like an anchor.
“I’ve been hurt before,” I say quietly. “And I know you’re not Sam. I know that. But it’s hard not to feel like maybe I’m just … waiting for something, at some point to happen.” I glance at him, then away again. “I believe you’re a good man, Ford. I really do. I see it, in your compassion, the way you show up. I see the good in you.”
