Page 10 of Fern's Date with Destiny
“Don’t care.”He shifted them sideways as people fumbled for phones.“Stay close.”
She did.Too close.Perfectly close.
His hand found hers as they navigated the dance floor through the press of bodies as confused laughter rang out.In the soft glow from his phone flashlight, he caught a flash of her face.Reckless, trusting, lit from inside.
Outside the pub, the night was a wash of cool air and scattered stars.The sudden hush after the music and loud noises made his pulse roar in his ears.
Fern squeezed his hand once, her lips parting as if to say something clever.
Destiny…
He didn’t let her finish.
Cody cupped her cheek with his free hand, brushed his thumb against her warm skin, and kissed her.
Softly first.So soft.A question and a confession all in one.She sighed into him, and that tiny sound broke whatever restraint he had left.He slanted his mouth harder, deeper, tasting her laugh, her quiet gasp, her everything.
They staggered sideways to the edge of the back alley, half-shielded by the pub’s shadowed siding, lost in the kind of kiss that made ignoring the world easy.Her right hand fisted his shirt, tugging him closer, closer, until all his carefully built walls gave way.
His brain spun in useless circles.Apologies, excuses, plans, but none of it mattered.Fern’s mouth was warm and sweet, and she was right there, kissing him as if she’d waited an entire year for this as well.
Friends, huh?
Destiny, that patient witch, had finally had another idea.
He kissedher as if she was the only thing tethering him to the earth.
And Fern...
Well, hell.She wasn’t about to stop him.
Her mind, usually so quick to sort and categorize and plan, went deliciously blank.All she knew was the warmth of his hands, the rough brush of stubble when he angled closer.The taste of him with hints of beer and the fresh air he always carried with him, like wide-open prairie and safety.
When he finally pulled back, both of them breathless, she stayed right there.His forehead rested lightly on hers, and his smile was broad, the feel of his kiss echoing through her.
“Hi,” she whispered, inanely giddy.
“Hey yourself,” he murmured back, brushing her cheekbone again.
God, she’d wanted this, wantedhim, for so long…
And yet not at all.
Because she’d meant what she’d told him all that time ago.She hadn’t wanted a boyfriend just to fill a space.She’d needed to build the rest of her life first, to stand on ground that was solidly hers.
Now she thought she had.
Her job at the art gallery wasn’t just because of a favour being done by a doting sweetheart for a family member.It washers.The high-tech wings, the digital showcases, the community events and full-to-the-brim calendar.She’d dreamed them up and made them real.
Chance might be the artist with the worldwide connections, but Fern Fields had become his secret weapon, the glue behind every successful show.
She was twenty-three, nearly the age she’d scribbled on her childhood goal chart under ‘Find my forever person’.She’d laughed when she found the old tattered journal last month, the one filled with her childish and not so childish dreams all laid out in multicoloured glitter pen glory.
Deep down, wanting this now felt right.
Her friends were moving forward too.Charity was engaged to Dustin, planning a wedding full of family celebrations and laughter.Fern was so happy for them it made her chest ache.
Yet sometimes being the last Fields sister at home felt exactly like being last picked at recess.
