Page 6 of One Night Rendezvous

“Trouble?”

“Won’t start. Won’t even do anything,” I tell him.

“Pop the hood.”

I do. He disappears under it for a couple of minutes then comes back, his expression grim.

“Your alternator is shot. I can probably give you a jump that would get you home, but it’ll be dead again in the morning. How about I give you a jump, you drive it to the shop. Then I’ll take you home,” he offers.

“I can’t afford to have this thing fixed right now, Ford. I’ll just have to hoof it until I get paid again.”

His eyes lock with mine, that intense stare making me squirm a little. Then he says, “I didn’t ask if you could afford it. I owe you for all the free hairstyling lessons for Felicity.”

Forty-five minutes later, Ford is pulling up in front of my trailer. His SUV isn’t any newer than my car is, but it’s definitely in better condition. He takes care of it that same way he takes care of his house and his little girl.

“Thanks for this,” I tell him. “I feel like a total mess … like I’m always asking people to rescue me.”

“You’re not. I mean, yeah, maybe you need help from time to time, but we all do … This morning, I had to work early, and Felicity needed to get to school. So Mabel helped me out.”

I smile at that. “I love Mabel. I’d let her take care of me if she would.”

He laughs at that. “Ask her. She probably will. Mabel likes to take care of people.”

“And you. You seem to like taking care of people too,” I point out.

Ford shakes his head, clearly uncomfortable with something that—depending on perspective—could be praise or criticism. “Listen … this isn’t an easy life. Dixie Plaza is a world unto itself. Sometimes that’s a good thing and sometimes it’s not. But the good people here have to look out for one another. That’s how we survive it.”

I’m looking out the window of his car into the bright afternoon sun. It’s sifting through the trees and leaving a lacy pattern on everything it touches. Even a busted down trailer looks pretty in the right light. “Do you ever want to just run? To just get in a car and drive somewhere that nobody knows your name and all the baggage attached to it?”

He sighs, then sinks back in his seat a little. Like he’s got all day to sit here and talk to me and not a million and one things he needs to do or for his kid before she gets home from school. Ford is giving me his time, and I know how precious that is.

“All the time, Ashley. Every day. And every day I look at my daughter who is finally starting to feel safe again and I know that I can’t take that from her. This might be a shit hole, but it’s the first place no one was hitting her, or locking her in closets, or god only knows what else. My biggest fear is that one day she’s going to tell me all of it and I won’t be able to take it.”

Bitching about a crappy job, trailer, car or even my dad when Ford is dealing with that kind of burden? “You’re a good dad, Ford. The best. And that little girl is going to be fine. She’s going to be fine because she’s got you.”

“Who do you have?”

I shrug. “I had my Mamaw. I’ve got Lizzie.”

“Who now has Troy,” he replies. “Not that I don’t like Troy. As cops go, he and Cam are about as stand up as they come. But still, it changes things when your ride or die is suddenly someone else’s ride or die.”

Truer words have never been spoken. “I’ll be alright. I’ve got friends. I’ve got a great neighbor who saves me from raging mammals.”

“Rodent. Groundhogs are rodents,” he corrects me with a smile.

It’s an impulse—likely triggered by that smile—but I unclip my seat belt and lean across the console. My face is inches from his and I pause. His gaze drops to my mouth, and I know he wants it as much as I do. So I lean in a little more, until I can brush my lips against his.

It’s the simplest of touches. Just a casual kiss between friends. So why does it feel like I just dropped a match into a puddle of gasoline?

SIX

Ford

My grease-stained hands sink into her silky locks, pulling her closer. I hold her right where I want her as I take this kiss. She moans in the back of her throat, her fingers flexing in my shirt, either trying to yank me closer, or push me further away. My tongue coaxes her mouth open, sneaking in, stealing a taste.

It's just as sweet as I thought it would be.

I have to bring us down before this gets even more out of control than it already is. It's the middle of the evening, we're in the driveway of her trailer, and anyone walking by can see us. This doesn't bother me, but it might bother her. Slowly, I try to end the kiss, but we keep going back for small pecks, until my eyes are closed, and our foreheads are pressed together.

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