Page 68 of What I Should Have Felt

He didn’t turn toward me or say anything in response, though he briefly paused, then finally exited the car. At least I could give him that much. I was so grateful for his understanding and his patience. And for how forward he was being with me.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I quickly dug it out as I turned the engine off. A message from Azelie stating where she was flashed on my screen. Time to go find our daughter.

Once I was out of the car, Ford pushed my door closed, having quickly dashed around the front to meet me, and wiggled his brows. I clicked the lock button on my key fob and glared at him. “You can’t do that shit here. Not yet. Not until after the father/daughter dance, and you know it,” I chastised and threw my hands on my hips.

“Or what?” He narrowed his eyes in a flirtatious glare.

“Or I’ll stab you. Again.”

“You’ve already tried that and failed.”

“Not the first time.” I flicked the tip of my braid over my shoulder and strutted past him.

“Have you ever considered that I let that happen?” His shadow fell over my body as he silently jogged up beside me.

“Don’t lie to yourself; it’s not a good look.” I glanced up at him and caught a smirk on his face. He totally knew I was right. “Oh, by the way, you know you can’t interfere with anything going on between Cory and Becca and Azelie, right?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, and the lines deepened on his face. “Yeah, I know.”

“I hate it too, Ford, but Azelie has to handle this on her own,” I quietly added as we wandered toward the high school field that wasn’t just an empty, grassy patch anymore. We weaved through vehicles that overflowed the parking lot and walked closer to the hustle and bustle of the chattering crowd. Faint music bumped on speakers behind the conversation that danced on the breeze louder than a buzz saw. The scent of every style of Cajun food permeated the atmosphere, and I was grateful that we managed to keep our parents’ booths on opposite ends of what looked more like a town fair and local festival than a high school fundraiser.

News had carried fast, and every high school sports team and club had become involved. A teachers versus students game of most of the sports was scheduled throughout the day, starting with tennis. Football was right before the dance and had sold the most tickets—not surprising since everyone and their dog grew up watching Friday night football.

I paused right before we passed between the first row of canvas tents and grabbed Ford’s arm. A quiet whimper brushed past his lips, and every muscle in me stiffened. Whatever I’d been about to say to him fled my mind as his skin beneath my hand turned warm. My touch, something so simple, had elicited an involuntary and sensual sound from him.

My eyes cautiously raised to his face, where his gaze remained locked on my hand that still held onto his arm. His chest heaved as everything in my body softened. It no longer mattered what I was going to say, as words weren’t needed. Not as we stood here, sheltered from the crowd by the canvas tents, wrapped up in a moment that only existed between him and me.

A faint whiff of regret simmered within my soul as all the cruelty that I’d given to him swam through my memories. Yet, here he was, whimpering at my nonchalant touch. What more could a girl ask for?

Goosebumps prickled upon his skin, and the ink upon his arm seemed to come alive, dancing with the ripple effect. It was beautiful, and a reminder that despite everything, he’d never given up hope that one day, he’d have me. That one day, he’d be able to call me his. He’d let me go, given me a chance to live my life while spending his with a broken heart as I loved someone new. Secrets and lies had fueled the path that we once tread, but they also brought us back together.

Freedom whispered upon the breeze. A forward movement with no baggage, no past pain, and it was as if Liam rested his hand upon mine, then he let me go. That fear that held me so tightly wrapped in armor wrestled away as I opened my heart to the love that Ford offered me. All hesitationwas gone. Everything that had fractured us all those years ago was no longer a part of this current chapter in our story.

Everything from here on out was new, fresh, and unburdened from the pain of others’ doing—and some of our own.

“Just… I’ll see you this evening,” I whispered and peeled my hand from his skin.

He slowly nodded, the lines on his forehead deepening as a chill swept beneath my palm. “Do you trust me?” he suddenly asked quietly.

Stitching my brows together, I tipped my head. “Yes, of course. Why?”

His hands balled up into fists as silence briefly swept between us. The fates seemed to shift with a simple question that came from nowhere, yet held unexplainable weight.

“Don’t get into too much trouble,” he replied with a wink and then silently slipped between the two nearest tents and faded into the passing crowd.

I remained frozen in place for half a second longer, wondering why he asked that and then didn’t provide me with an actual answer. But, when no answer whispered in my head, eventually my feet carried me after the ghost of Ford’s figure. I searched every corner of my mind but failed to come up with any reasoning as to why he’d ask that out of nowhere. Unless he had something stupid planned at some point? But Ford wasn’t stupid. He was anything but that.

The scent of funnel cakes and typical fair foods wafted into the air, melding with the chattering crowds that pushed past me, eager to see what freebies might be offered at the next booth. Children laughed, bubblesdanced into the atmosphere as frequently as excited shrieks of groups reuniting with each other.

As my gaze scanned the passing booths, I caught sight of a waving hand paired with bright red curls at the far end of the row I wandered down.

“Mom!” Azelie shouted and jogged over toward me. She slung an arm around my waist; her grin stretched from ear to ear and didn’t disappear as she guided me around the trodden grass. Sweat coated my lower back, making my chambray shirt stick to my skin, but I didn’t mind. Her excitement as she explained what different booths were and how her idea had helped with all of this kept me going.

As we rounded another corner, cheering grew louder and louder, as if someone were competing for something. Azelie’s brows inched together, and she left my side, quickening her pace just enough to weave through the forming crowd before I reached the edge.

Where I immediately stopped walking. My feet slunk into the ground, as if lodged into muck as sticky and heavy as wet concrete hardening by the second. Azelie was visible from here, even with the masses forming a half circle around the JROTC’s booth, as the curls on her head bobbed withevery step.

But it wasn’t my daughter and the sun’s heat that had me sweating; it was the man standing at the base of one of the pull-up bars with his arms crossed over his chest. Two recruiters from the Army stood on either side of the stand, leading the crowd in the chant to get Ford to step up. His cheeks were bright red as he shook his head, slicing a glare toward Turk, who smirked in the shade of the canvas tent.

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