Smooth move, Harper. Real smooth.
Chapter 20
Ford
Getting a knee to the balls after making out with the woman I’ve loved since high school feels like karma has a twisted sense of humor. But Harper’s laughter as she asks if I’m okay, then tumbles into the snow beside me, makes it all worthwhile.
I’ve heard her laugh since returning to town, but not like this in ages. It never really happened around Asher—only when we were alone, deep in conversation.
I stand up and take her hand, pulling her to her feet. “Good thing we landed in the snow. Built-in ice pack for that bony knee of yours.”
“I’m sorry,” Harper replies, erupting into another fit of laughter.
She bends forward, clutching her sides. I’ve always loved watching her like this—those rare moments when she’s free to beherself. This, along with seeing her behind the camera, are my favorite views of her. So far.
We move to the front porch and sit down, the snow swirling around us. My groin throbs, but oddly, I don’t mind as much as I probably should. Others would call me whipped, and they’d likely be right.
“What’s going on out here?” Gina asks, poking her head through the front door.
Harper bursts into laughter again, wiping tears from her eyes.
“We’re fine,” I assure her.
“What happened? I haven’t heard her laugh like this in ages.”
This confirms it. Asher dulled Harper’s shine, even when they weren’t surrounded by others. He wanted her to shrink down to his size.
“We slipped on the ice,” Harper manages to say, “or rather, I slipped and took Ford down with me. And then I kind of hurt him getting up.”
“Hurt him?”
Her finger points first at her right knee and then at my lap. Another wave of laughter escapes her, and I can only shake my head, smiling.
Gina gasps. “Are you okay? We can’t have you getting hurt like that. Special equipment and all.”
“Goodnight, Gina,” Harper says, leaving me to process what she just said.
Did she just call my junk special equipment? A knowing look passes between the sisters before Gina retreats inside and shuts the porch lights.
We’re left in the warm glow of the Christmas lights strung along the porch railing, their multicolored reflections dancing across the pristine snow that continues to fall in fat, lazy flakes around us. The air smells of pine, and our breath forms little clouds that dissipate into the night. I finally understandHarper’s affection for this time of year—this perfect stillness where everything feels possible.
“You haven’t laughed like that in a while, huh?” I ask.
Harper gives a small, wistful smile. “I never really laughed with Asher. Not truly. If I did…”
“If you did, what?” I prompt, reaching over to take her hand.
“I don’t know how to explain it. I always felt like I was… too much.”
The more I learn about how Asher treated her, the more my hatred for him grows—a slow-burning fire that spreads through my chest whenever I picture him dimming her light. When Harper laughs like she just did, I can almost see the invisible threads connecting us, silver in the moonlight, stretching between her heart and mine.
Yes, I see Harper as mine in a way I’ve never felt about anyone else. She already owns my heart. Has since that day I met her.
“How are you really feeling about everything that’s happened?” I ask. “Being here, Asher and Kenzie, the weddings.”
“I’m okay. When it all first happened, I didn’t think I could ever say that, but I am. Not to say I’m not still bruised from it, though.”
I lift an eyebrow and smirk. “You’re not the one who’ll be bruised in the morning.”
