She had me pegged. I hated that it pissed me off to think about my girl giving another man the time of day.
“It’s close enough to walk if you’re all right with that.”
Willow looked down at her feet. “I’m prepared.”
“You look good in Converse.” I cracked a smile. “Classic. Timeless.”
Her cheeks turned the same shade as her hair.
“One thing before we go,” I said as I held my hand up, fingers spread, like I was waiting for a high-five. “Can I see your hand?”
She high-fived me, but I caught her hand in mine. Gently, I held her wrist steady with my free hand and pressed her palm to mine, matching our hands.
“If this is some joke about big hands meaning you have a big?—”
“It’s not,” I said with a laugh. “I mean, it’s not untrue. I’m just seeing if we’re compatible.”
Her brows knitted together. “Compatible?”
Now that she was hooked, I slid my fingers into the spaces between hers and laced our hands together. It was a comfortable hold. Her hands were slightly smaller than mine, making it easy to keep them intertwined.
“Wow,” she drew out in mocking sarcasm. “That was quite a move, Ford.”
I grinned and gave her hand a little tug as I started down the sidewalk. “Hey, I just had to test it. You know—for science.”
“What happened to you not touching me?”
“Sexually,” I clarified. “Hand-holding is platonic.” I pulled her closer as we weaved through a group of tourists who had stalled and clogged up the sidewalk. “And I’m pretty sure I said Iwouldtouch you sexually if you begged for it.” I winked as she rolled her eyes.
The sidewalk cleared up, and Willow was at my side again. I stroked the outside of her hand with my thumb. “Who were you talking to on the phone?”
“Nosey much?”
“I’m curious. You were smiling. Was it Whitney or Wander?”
That soft smile was back. It was the best accessory she wore. “Neither. It was my stepdad. He was driving through Utah and got bored.”
“Nomadic like you? Does short-term living run in the family?”
She shook her head. “He’s a truck driver. But he does tell me all the cool spots he sees or the locations of clean truck stops.”
I ran my thumb across the outside of her hand again, loving the way we felt together.
“He’s not actually my stepdad anymore,” Willow hedged. “He and my mom divorced right before I graduated from high school.”
“How long were they together?”
“I was very young when they got married. I don’t really remember it, but there are pictures of me and my sister at their wedding.”
“Is your biological dad in your life?” I asked as we waited for a crosswalk to open.
Willow shifted her grip on my hand, but didn’t let go. “Yeah. We’re not that close, but I see him when I visit.”
“Does still having a relationship with your stepdad make it awkward with your dad?”
Willow glanced up at me and arched an eyebrow. “I see what you’re doing, Ford. I’m on to you.”
I let out a loud laugh, startling the other pedestrians as we crossed the street. “Onto what? Trying to get to know you?” I let go of her hand and raised mine in surrender. “Guilty on all counts, cupcake.”
