Page 11 of Nail Me Down

“It’s so wrong, Dakota. I shouldn’t have slept with him. It was too soon.”

“Don’t do that, Holly. You were hardly in a relationship with Damon. It had been months of a downward spiral. You know you were going to break up with him that night or the next day. It just…turned out differently than you expected. Better and worse in some ways. Don’t you think you deserve to be happy?”

“Not like this,” I grumble, shoving another cookie in my mouth.

“Like what? So soon after heartbreak?”

I go to nod but she cuts me off.

“What? Are you supposed to postpone your happiness for some unspoken reason for people that don’t have to live in your shoes for some indefinite period of time?”

“I don’t know—”

“No, Holly. You’re not. Love doesn’t play by a standard set of rules. It shows up, smacks you upside the head, and says, What are you going do now?”

“That sounds oddly specific—”

She throws her hands up in the air. “Just…don’t let it pass you by for something stupid. Find out what really happened that night because there’s no part of me—I mean zero, zilch, not even one tiny spec of one microscopic particle—that believes Ford was in the wrong here.”

As we leave the bakery, the bell dings, signally our departure and the door is held open by the next patron.

“Thanks,” I start to say and then look up into the face of Ford.

He looks stricken. I never knew what that look really meant, but his face is the epitome of it. Ashen skin. Sunken eyes. Loose jaw. Slumped shoulders.

Even his voice. It just croaks out, “Hey.”

Before I can reply, Dakota beats me to it.

“Good timing, Ford. You two should talk. Maybe take her to the gazebo? I hear it’s helped some other couples before.” Dakota practically shoves me at Ford, and I put out a hand to stop myself from ramming into his chest. His reflexes are fast and he reaches for me.

“Thanks, Dakota,” he says, but she’s already walking off, probably heading to Espresso Yourself bookstore to grab the latest historical romance she ordered in.

My hand is still in his, and he gives it a small squeeze. “Would you wanna talk?”

I shrug. Already blinking back some tears. “Sure.”

In a weirdly not-awkward silence, we make our way to the center of our small town and take a seat on one of the cute benches under some hanging flowers.

“I got your gifts. Thanks.” I need to say something, but I can’t look him in the eyes yet.

His voice is low and gravelly when he answers, “You’re welcome.”

“I—” I don’t know what else to say. I’m hurt. I feel betrayed. Lost. Like I can’t even trust myself anymore.

“I’m so sorry, Holly. I should have waited. I shouldn’t have pushed you to do something you didn’t want to do.”

“You didn’t push me. I-I wanted to do…that.”

“You sure? Because you seem pretty mad at me.”

“It got chaotic real fast, Ford.” Shaking my head at the memory, I go on. “I was with Damon. Then I wasn’t. Then you were there. Damon comes back and says he basically…what? Gave you permission to sleep with me? It’s so confusing. I don’t know what to believe.”

“It sounds bad, Holly. But…ugh…” He groans and leans back on the bench. “I can tell you that he’s an asshole for even suggesting something like he did. And I didn’t take him up on his offer. I’ve been into you for a long time, which he obviously picked up on. I should have left that night and just…I dunno. Waited. Waited for you to be single and take notice of me.”

“I’m glad you didn’t leave.”

“You are?” His head perks up and I finally venture to meet his gaze. He looks so forlorn. It’s like he can’t be anything but sincere.