Page 9 of Fern’s Date with Destiny (Heart Falls Vignette and Novella Collection #4)

P etra’s November birthday party was a cheerful riot of chaos. Fairy lights were strung across the beams of the artists’ studio at High Water ranch, music spilling through open doors, with clusters of people laughing around paper plates piled high with cake and snacks.

Fern drifted between her best friend Charity, who kept stealing bites off Dustin’s plate, and a knot of her sisters’ friends near the makeshift dance floor. But her attention kept wandering. Across the room, near the corner by a tiny buffet table with spiked cider, Cody stood half in shadow.

He wasn’t looking at her—not directly. He chatted with Chance and Luke Stone, nodded at something Petra squealed about as she danced past. But every few minutes his eyes found hers, and the force of that quiet heat sent Fern’s stomach swooping in the most delicious way.

They were good at this now. The pretending.

Smothering private laughter with polite small talk, brushing too close in a crowded space and shrugging it off with an easy grin.

But tonight, Fern couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Not when he kept tipping his beer back with that lazy smirk and half-winking as if he knew exactly what she’d do if she could get him alone for ten minutes.

It would have been fun to be more explicit in the text message she’d sent him when he’d walked in the door, but she kept from spilling the beans about what she’d arranged.

Cody was fire to her soul, but he’d remained far too controlled for her liking. It was time to take matters into her own hands.

Charity elbowed her gently. “You’re staring. Spill it. What’s he done now?”

“Nothing,” Fern hissed, cheeks warming at the idea her friends might guess the direction of her thoughts. “It’s nothing.”

Dustin snorted behind his cider mug. “It’s never nothing with you two. He rope you into some wild activity again?”

Fern rolled her eyes. “Maybe.”

Before she could defend herself further, a warm hand curled around her elbow.

“Excuse me, folks,” Cody said, voice all easy charm. “Mind if I steal my partner? She owes me a rematch.”

Charity snickered. “Playing solo Ping Pong Panic again? You two are worse than kids.”

“Have fun losing, Cody,” Dustin added with a smirk.

Fern squeaked as Cody tugged her away, weaving past the buffet table and the cluster of gossipy aunts lingering by the pies. She elbowed him lightly. “A rematch? Really?”

“I panicked.” His grin was a white flash. “You said something about a view you wanted to show me?”

“Welcome to your private tour of High Water ranch,” Fern said.

They slipped out the side door, their boots crunching over the snow. Fern shivered, tugging her coat tighter, and Cody immediately slipped out of his own to drape it over her shoulders without breaking stride.

She guided him toward the old animal rescue barn at the far edge of the property.

The structure remained exactly as Fern remembered from the years of her grandmother running the shelter, with faded red siding, a big loft door, and the smell of straw and old timber.

When the family had visited, Fern used to slip away and hide in the loft, curled up in a makeshift haybale chair to read, or to stare over the fields to the mountains rising in the west.

Inside, it was quieter, though the faint strains of music drifted through the rafters from the neighbouring building where the party continued. Cody followed her up the loft ladder, then she casually paused to slip the wooden latch that would lock the trapdoor.

She didn’t want any other privacy seekers interrupting them tonight.

“Thank you for the coat, gallant knight,” she teased, shrugging out of it and spreading it over a hay bale near the big shuttered windows. She pushed them open, letting moonlight spill across the wooden floor.

“Best I could manage on short notice,” he shot back, but his eyes were soft as he settled beside her. He pulled her in, tucking her into his side, letting her burrow her cold fingers under the hem of his shirt without a flinch.

They sat like that for a while, the music a faint heartbeat beyond them, their breath puffing little clouds in the chilly air as they stared into a star-filled sky. Outside the artists’ studio to their left, someone lit a bonfire, and the scent of woodsmoke carried on the crisp winter night air.

Fern traced random patterns on Cody’s chest, feeling him shiver every time she dipped her fingers lower.

“Tell me something about little Fern,” he murmured. “Something you don’t share at family dinners.”

She laughed into his coat collar then sobered. “Okay. You remember I was adopted as a newborn, right?”

He nodded, rubbing his chin over the top of her head.

“Well, people always want to ask, but they chicken out. So no, I wasn’t put up for adoption because of my arm. My birth mom had already arranged it all with Sophie and Malachi. She wanted me to have them from day one. The arm was just fate being weird. It was never really a big deal.”

“Still hard though, I bet,” Cody said softly, nose brushing her temple. “People suck sometimes.”

“They do.” Fern tipped her head and caught his lips in a slow, lingering kiss that chased the chill away.

“But it’s not the missing hand that’s hard.

Like, tonight I’m not even wearing my prothesis, and it’s fine.

It’s the constant fight to exist how I am.

No explanations, no edits to make strangers comfortable.

Just Fern. Every day, every minute. Some days I wish I could wake up, do the right thing, and never feel as if it’s a battle. ”

“I think you do it brilliantly,” he murmured, his mouth sliding along her jaw. “You wake up and you’re you . And you’re... Christ, you’re perfect, you know that?”

She snorted, pressing her forehead to his. “Flatterer. Now it’s your turn. Tell me a terrible teenage Cody story.”

“All right,” Cody said, a smile already tugging at his lips.

“When I was thirteen, Chance was eighteen, and he’d just gotten his first real car.

He told Mom and Dad he was heading out for a late movie at a classic drive-in with the guys, so I figured, perfect.

I’ll sneak in the back and tag along. Didn’t want to ask ’cause I knew he’d say no.

So I hid under an old blanket and waited him out like a little stalker. ”

Fern was already snickering. “You did not.”

“Swear to God. I thought we were going to hit a drive-in, eat popcorn, maybe even hit a second show. Turned out his ‘guys’ were just him and a girl he’d been dying to impress. They pull up to the drive-in lot, I pop out all triumphant. Surprise! Third wheel right here!”

She laughed so hard she snorted, burying her face in his neck.

“Poor Chance,” Cody chuckled, nuzzling her hair.

“He paid for my ticket, bought me a bucket of popcorn bigger than my head, and then had to watch Spider-Man with his little brother perched right behind him while his date glared knives at me for the rest of the night. He didn’t talk to me for a week. ”

She doubled over laughing, half muffled against his shirt. “You little menace.”

“Only for him. Always for him.” Cody sighed contentedly, brushing her hair back. “We both got good families, huh?”

“The best.” She stretched up and kissed him again, deeper this time. Beneath them, a few new voices drifted near the bonfire outside, but Cody’s hand curved over her hip, grounding her.

It was time.

“Got something to show you,” she murmured, tugging him back into the shadows of the loft. There, tucked between hay bales, she’d spread a thick quilt and stashed two lantern-style flashlights.

“Fern?” There was a question in his eyes along with heat.

“I helped my sister set up food for the party and took advantage of the time to slip up here,” she whispered. “I want you.”

She’d thought he might hesitate, but he didn’t. Her breath caught as he guided her onto the blankets, covering her with his warmth.

“It’s cold,” she warned, even as she tugged at his shirt hem.

“I’ll keep you warm.”

She laughed, soft and wild. When he kissed her this time, she let the November chill be chased away, bit by heated bit.

She laughed into his mouth, soft and wicked, and the sound vibrated down every nerve in his body like a spark struck too close to dry grass.

Cody kissed her deeper, muffling her amusement, his hands already under her sweater, skating warm palms over bare skin that felt like satin gone molten under his fingertips.

Outside, muffled music and laughter from the bonfire drifted up, but inside the hayloft, it was just them and the hush of winter wind.

He’d been content being patient, but he was glad the wait was over.

He tugged her sweater higher, groaning when she wriggled to help, and then her bra too, simple, soft cotton and lace, and her breath caught when the cool air licked over her flushed skin.

“God, look at you,” he rasped, brushing his thumbs over her tight peaks. Fern arched her back, pushing into his palms, and the sound she made nearly snapped every thread of restraint left in him.

She tugged at his shirt in retaliation, nails scraping across his ribs as she shoved the fabric up and off.

They broke the kiss long enough to untangle sleeves and dump it on the quilt, then he was on her again, pinning her forearms above her head for a heartbeat just to watch her eyes flare wide with heat.

“Bossy,” she whispered.

“You like me bossy,” he shot back, dipping his mouth to her throat, then lower, dragging his tongue across the soft swell of her breast.

Fern gasped, her legs shifting restlessly under him, thighs brushing his hips in silent invitation.

“Say it,” he murmured, teeth grazing her nipple. “Tell me.”

“I like you bossy,” she panted, hips tilting up as if she could pull him deeper already. “Cody— God, please ?—”