Page 24 of Welcome Home to Ivy Falls (Ivy Falls #3)

FORD

Shoot My Shot

I’d only been in one serious relationship.

Sydney was in my medical school class. We shared the same study groups.

Struggled with parts of the pharmacology curriculum.

Slowly our classmates found other places to study until it was only the two of us quizzing each other and drinking way too much coffee.

It was reassuring to have her around. To know she was tackling the same kinds of stress as me. What we had was safe. Comfortable.

When the time came to talk about where we wanted to do our residencies, she hinted that she wanted to follow me.

Thought it was time for more of a commitment.

A week before Match Day, when we’d learn about where we’d do our residencies, she asked me point-blank if I was going to marry her.

In that moment I clearly saw what a future with her would look like.

It was exactly what my parents wanted: children, a dog and a white picket fence.

Having that sobering vision freaked me out. Syd deserved more than I could give her. So instead of a ring, she got an apology and a not so suave breakup.

That cramping in my chest I’d felt with Sydney, I was convinced would happen with every woman I met, but as the music played, Piper’s hand tucked into mine, my breaths came easy. I’d even have called them light.

The band moved from a Johnny Cash song to an upbeat Luke Bryan tune.

The crowd hooted, hollered and stomped their feet.

Skirts spun in colorful chaos. Boots sashayed across the floor in thick, measured steps.

I swung Piper out and pulled her in, doing a quick cradle turn before reeling her back into my side.

‘Holy crap. You can really dance.’

‘I may have had a little practice, but it’s no “Step in Time”.’

That earned me a laugh that I swore almost shot me straight to the moon.

When Janice first told me about the ‘Music in the Square’ event it sounded small-town hokey to me. The more I thought about it though, the more I pictured seeing Piper. Asking her to dance. Chances were she’d say no, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t willing to shoot my shot.

Once I heard the music from my balcony, I walked out to the square.

Booths lined the block selling everything from beer to kettle corn to lemonade.

Rows of black smokers sat on the sidewalk, people eager to try the local brisket and barbecued pork.

Picnic tables covered in bright yellow gingham spread out across the brick-paved street.

On an elevated stage near the fountain a five-piece band played one of their first songs.

Every few steps, I got a smile or a hello from a patient. It was wild how I’d only been here five weeks and already knew so many names and faces.

My gaze flicked over the crowd and my heart sank when I couldn’t find Piper.

Earlier, I’d heard her and Maisey giggling through the walls. When the conversation stopped, and her door slammed, I waited a half an hour before I made my own exit.

I checked every booth. Scanned the dance floor. Still no Piper.

I moved outside the square and toward town hall. At first, all I heard was Dex’s voice singing out.

Man, the kid was good.

I followed the sound and was treated to Piper’s own voice a few seconds later.

Goosebumps rippled across my skin as her laughter, and encouraging words, floated out of the gazebo.

My intention was to stay in the shadows, only watch for a moment.

But then she spun straight toward the stairs, and I stepped out to make sure she didn’t take a tumble.

As I cupped her against my chest, the feel and scent of her sent me on another rollercoaster drop.

‘Dex is getting really good. He’s going to blow everyone away during the performances,’ she said.

‘That’s a credit to you.’

We followed the crowd around the floor in a quick two-step, changing positions and shifting our bodies in time to the music. The more we moved, the more eyes followed us.

From across the dance floor, Greta watched us curiously. Miss Cheri stood near the gazebo, giving me a pleased-as-punch grin. Barb and Susan passed us more than once. Their lingering and hesitant gazes saying more than they wanted.

The one stare that never wavered belonged to a guy with sandy-brown hair and a determined scowl. When I’d first met Piper’s brother in the hospital, the fear he wore made him appear much older. Now he just looked… pissed.

‘We’re drawing attention,’ I said, tipping my chin in Beck’s direction.

‘So what. Are you having fun?’

Fun. This was more than that. This was an erotic fantasy come to life. Being able to press my fingers against her skin. Hold her this close. Yeah, I’d be dreaming about it for weeks.

‘I’m having a blast,’ I said.

‘Good. Let’s ignore everyone else.’

I spun her again, never wanting to let her go.

The upbeat song blended into a quiet ballad a few beats later.

I waited for her to pull away. Make some excuse to step out of my arms, especially now with the crowd’s attention on us.

Instead, she wound her hands around my neck and laid her head against my shoulder.

I couldn’t explain the sweep of relief that passed through my body at that moment, but I knew one thing to be true.

I’d never felt this way about another woman.

While the fiddle played a gentle melody, I folded her in closer.

Her coffee and vanilla scent was hypnotic.

The brush of her silver shirt against my hands unleashed an undeniable want.

We’d almost kissed the other night in her apartment, and I’d been thinking about it ever since, wanting it even more.

She pulled back and stared into my eyes. I slid my hands down her arms and my fingers skidded over the tattoo on her wrist. ‘I’ve been meaning to tell you how much I like your hummingbird.’

A small smile pulled up the corners of her lips. ‘Thank you. It’s special.’

There was an ache to her voice that said it had meaning.

‘Tell me about it. More than once, I’ve seen you trace its edges when you’re nervous.’

She worried her full bottom lip and paused like she was weighing if she could trust me.

‘When I was in rehab there were a lot of outdoor spaces for patients. A community garden became a favorite spot of mine. Every time I took a walk there, a pair of hummingbirds flitted in between the wildflowers. The first few times it happened, I sat and watched them in wonder, thinking that they nested close by. That the garden must be their favorite spot. One day I asked one of my nurses about them. She said she’d worked there for nearly ten years, spent a ton of time in the garden, and had never once seen a pair of hummingbirds.

That it was rare because they were usually singular creatures.

’ She pulled in a shaky breath. ‘It felt weird that they only appeared for me, and I took it as a sign.’

‘What kind of sign?’ I couldn’t help but ask, curious for her to share more of herself.

‘This may sound ridiculous, but I started thinking they were a symbol of my parents. That they were there watching over me. Letting me know I was going to be okay.’ She shook her head, her gaze going to the ground.

‘As soon as I started getting better, I wanted that bird tattooed on me as a reminder that my parents are always in my heart. That I want to make them proud.’

She’d mentioned that she and her brother were bonded by trauma, and from town gossip, whispered to me in pieces, I knew her parents had died tragically in a fire. I’d never asked for more details because it felt too much like invading her privacy.

‘I don’t think it’s ridiculous. We have lots of touchstones in our lives.

Ways we want to remember what’s important to us.

’ Softly, I traced over the bird’s head and down over its wings and she shivered under my touch.

‘I like that you want to feel close to them. Not all of us have that special bond with our parents.’

Her arms tightened around my neck like she wanted me closer. ‘I still don’t understand your folks. What is it about your choices that bothers them so much? Most people would be proud to have a son who is selfless. Who wants to use his skills and education to help a community in need.’

I pressed my lips together. My parents were not my favorite topic, but the way she watched me with interest, cocking her head slightly, said she wanted to know more. Know me.

‘There’s a sort of unwritten code, a legacy, that is expected of every kid born into the Harpeth Manor world.’

‘What kind of code?’

‘You’re born there. You’re educated there. You return to work and raise a family with other people from that world. If you veer from that path, make your own choices, you’re seen as two things: a rebel or a weirdo.’

‘And which one are you?’

‘Definitely a little of both.’

Her glossy dark hair swayed against her shoulders. The hoops in the tops of her ears glittered in the moonlight. She gave a little smirk and said, ‘Funny, I like that combination.’

‘Do you?’ I inched her closer, hungry for the heat of her.

‘Yes, and to be honest, that life sounds boring and sort of incestuous,’ she said with a hint of contempt.

God, I liked this woman. She didn’t pull any punches. Told it like it was. I needed more people like her in my life.

‘I guess it is, and my parents, well, they like the Stepford lifestyle. Their parents accepted it. As did their parents before. Gray and I have broken that mold, and they’re not pleased about it.’

‘Raising two successful men. Men who are choosing their own path. That is something to be proud of, not to scoff at.’ Her eyes went hard. ‘Don’t ever introduce me to your folks. I might not be pleasant.’

I laughed again and it felt damn good.

‘No worries. I promise to keep you far from the lion’s den.’

The song ended and the band announced they were taking a fifteen-minute break.

‘Want a drink?’ I asked.

‘Sure.’