Page 93 of Every Little Kiss
“Okay, then be more,” Harris said, as if the solution were that easy.
“How?”
“Stay,” Harris said, and he let the one word settle.
Ford shook his head. “Not an option. By coming here, I made everything worse for her.”
“And you think leaving will make it all better?” Harris said it as if Ford were dim-witted. “Because I can tell you it won’t. You’re never going to find whatever it is you’re looking for by chasing disasters. The only thing that will make this better is to stay here and face it.”
Ford looked his friend in the eye. “Since when did you become a fan of me going after Liv?”
“When I realized that you love her and you could make her happy,” Harris said. “And she can make you happy too, if you’d let her.”
“Let her? She hates me.”
“She’ll get over it—I have.” Harris smiled. “But trust me, you’ll never get over losing out on love.”
The last word fluttered around his chest and then landed like lead. He told himself it would be better for all if he just walked away before it went too far. But the truth was, he was already gone.
“Fuck.” He sat down, the weight of what he’d had and then lost too staggering to remain upright.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Harris handed him a beer. “Now you might want to figure this out before Saturday, because while single moms don’t like being blindsided, they go ballistic when some dick with a charming smile leaves a mess in her sandbox.”
The sun was high, and a gentle breeze blew off the lake. Liv stared blindly as it glided through the pine trees, stirring the white canvas of the canopy tents and the bigWELCOME TOWAGONDAYS~ THEWILDESTADVENTURE IN THEWESTsign that hung over the main strip of town.
The vendors were already set up, Lake Street was lined with the fairgoers, and the Wild West Roundup was assembled and ready to go. The seventy-fifth annual Wagon Days parade was about to kick off the festivities to the largest crowd on record, and Liv felt like she was going to be sick.
To be honest, the gnawing ache in her stomach had started when she’d told him to leave, expanded to her chest when she’d ignored his first call, and hit critical mass when she’d heard that Ford had cashed in his ticket for home. A single stopover at Canyon Ridge—no return fare. And she didn’t think the ache was going away anytime soon.
She’d always thought that if she’d had one last chance to talk to Sam, to see where things went wrong, the loss wouldn’t have cut so deeply. But she’d asked Ford his reasons, heard his explanation, and still couldn’t reconcile how things had gone so incredibly wrong.
She couldn’t, because even though the pain was so intense at times it hurt to breathe, there wasn’t a single moment over the past few weeks that she’d change.
Even now, knowing how it would end with Ford and with Sam. The ache would eventually fade, she promised herself, but changing one bit would mean changing it all. And that would be far more devastating than never experiencing it to begin with.
Liv swallowed past the lump in her throat to watch Paxton, keeping a constant vigil at the front of the alley next to Sips and Splatters, where all the floats were lined up, waiting as if Superdog were going to swoop down and be his sidekick.
“You want to practice it one more time?” Liv asked, smoothing out a nonexistent crease in Paxton’s new and improved cape. Liv had stayed up three nights in a row trying to create a costume that was so super it didn’t require a crime-fighting partner.
“Nope,” he said, bouncing on his tiptoes to look over the ready-to-go floats and down to Lake Street. “I have to practice it with Bullseye.”
Heart in her throat, Liv cupped her son’s cheek. They’d been over this a dozen times already that morning. “I don’t think he’s coming, but either way you’re going to be awesome. Plus, you’ve got Supermom by your side.”
Liv put her hands on her hips and puffed out herSUPERMOM-clad chest, in her best superhero pose.
Paxton took in her black combat boots, shiny red spandex, and floor-length cape, and then those big blue pools looked up at her—panicked. “None of the other kids brought their mommies.”
Liv looked at the dozen or so pint-size superheroes already on the float—not one of them had an adult with them. They’d either paired up with another camp friend or had a sibling.
With a smile that was so fragile it was destined to break, Liv reached into her purse and pulled out her backup. “Well then, it’s a good thing I brought Superdog Stan.”
Paxton wasn’t the only one who’d received a costume update. Liv had stayed up until the wee hours of the morning sewing him a matching costume.
“Cool,” Paxton said, taking his furry standby, but his expression said it wasn’t as cool as a living, breathing superdog. “Thanks, Mom.”
Paxton exhaled a shaky breath and leaned into Liv, wrapping his arms around her.
The protector in Liv wanted to tell him he didn’t have to get on that float, and then take him to get ice cream, but the warrior in her knew that Paxton needed to see this through.
