Page 20 of Eligible Best Friend

“Agreed.” My parents both know excellent lawyers, ones who owe them favors, but they’ll refuse to help because Ford is an obstacle between me and Samuel. “We went to his stepsister’s wedding.” I have to get this off my chest but my heart’s racing. “And we had to pretend to kiss for the photographer. She wanted to get all the couples in love.”

He cocks a brow. “Unless you turned your back and rubbed noses, it’s kinda hard to pretend to kiss.”

“Exactly.”

“That good or that bad?”

That good. That fucking good. My face heats and Mitch gives me a knowing nod.

“Ford isn’t the type to be bad at that stuff. So now it’s awkward between you two?”

“I don’t know. Yes? I thought he was avoiding me.”

“He didn’t tell you why he couldn’t work today?”

I lift a shoulder. “I’m not his girlfriend.”

“Do you want to be?”

“No,” I answer before I can think, afraid of what I’d find if I ventured down that path. “It’s Ford.”

“We both know Ford’s a good guy, or you wouldn’t be friends with him.”

“He is a good guy. But Cass ruined him. He wants nothing to do with relationships and the last thing I need is a guy who’s tied so close to his ex.”

Understanding lights Mitch’s eyes. “Your ex cheated with his ex. I can see the issue.” He crosses his arms, his gaze boring into the floor. “Maybe you should just ask him if that kiss made it awkward.”

“Maybe.” No way in hell I was bringing that up with Ford. Getting left on the doorstep at my condo minutes after the incident dented my ego enough.

“I’m serious, Lia. My wife and I used to fight all the time. It’s one of the few things I’ve put my foot down on. One day, I told her I can’t read her mind—I’m oblivious on a good day. If she has an issue with me, she has to tell me. I can’t work on what I don’t know.”

“Makes sense,” I mumble. I told Mitch for a reason. Maybe it was because he has all the experience and therefore his advice is something I should listen to.

“Relationships have vitals, but I went to school for this job. There is no class for relationships. I guess there is, but you know what I mean. Instead of a stethoscope, we have to talk to know how stable we are. Just remember, you two work well together for a reason. Whether it’s work ethic, respect, or chemistry, it doesn’t matter. You’ll work it out.”

Chemistry. I never thought I had chemistry with Ford. I diligently kept myself from thinking about him that way, from appreciating his wide shoulders and powerful thighs. When we were first paired together, I ignored my insides tingling every time he complimented me. He’s a player. I knew that from the beginning.

Then why does it suddenly seem so hard to ignore all those things now? It’s like my mind’s rewinding and replaying every time he grinned at me, all the inside jokes we share, how he warms me to the point of intimate discomfort. The thing we had going is messed up over an amazing kiss.

Mitch glances to the door where the new team is entering and heading to the locker room. “I wanted to talk to you about something before we go.”

“Okay?”

“Did you see that the company is offering a paramedic course this fall?”

“I figured they would be. Isn’t it an every-other-year thing?” When I first moved here, I chose only to do the shorter EMT course. It was an entirely new career and I had to feel it out first.

“The pay increase would be significant.”

I’m not worried about the money. “Worried that I’ll lose the roof over my head?”

“No, but we’re talking dollars more an hour. You’re an excellent EMT, and you’d be a great paramedic. Not many places offer an accelerated program—and pay for it.”

His tone says I would be a fool to pass this up. It’s a great opportunity. So why am I so reluctant to listen to Mitch on this? Perhaps I want to decide for myself. I moved here determined to make my own way, to carve my own path in the world, and I’m doing that.

I’m doing exactly what I moved to Fargo to do. And Ford is helping me keep it that way.

When I don’t express the excitement Mitch expects of me, he says, “Is it the three-year contract?”

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