Page 51 of Welcome Home to Ivy Falls

Chapter Fifteen

PIPER

Muscle Memory

‘Pick an outfit before all my beautiful years are gone and I start sprouting white chin hairs!’ Maisey groaned as she fell back onto my bed.

‘I’m not going because, if you couldn’t tell, I have absolutely nothing to wear.’

‘It’s a good thing your best friend has impeccable taste. Give me a minute to put a few items together.’

She bounced up and stalked to where I was standing in the doorway to my closet. It’d taken nearly a week, but I was finally unpacked. Having all my stuff in one spot made me painfully aware that my wardrobe was lacking. I’d spent the last two years doing exactly two things: going to work and seeing my therapist once a week. My wardrobe of faded jeans and old T-shirts reflected that lifestyle.

Maisey pushed back hanger after hanger. Small, frustrated sighs filled the shoebox-sized closet. At the end of the top rack, her eyes narrowed on a fringed black skirt. She took two small jumps trying to grab it.

‘Shit, I hate being short.’

‘You’re not short. You’re fun-sized!’ I teased.

She shot me an annoyed stare. ‘Not all of us can be supermodel tall!’

I moved around her and lifted off the hanger.

‘Show off,’ she grumbled before pulling a sparkly silver T-shirt off the lower rack. With another huff she glanced at my pitiful array of shoes, selecting a short pair of black suede booties.

‘This is “Music in the Square” not “Night at the Rave”,’ I protested.

‘Put them on. You know you’re going to look great in it with those long legs and that damn glossy hair of yours. I saw Janice from the clinic at Minnie’s Market earlier today. She said Dr Hottie McHotterson will be there. Once he sees you in that outfit, he won’t be able to take his eyes off you.’

‘What are you even saying?’ I laughed. ‘Ford and I are friends.’

Even as I said the words, I knew they were a lie. When he touched me the other night before he left, I desperately wanted him to kiss me. But it was a bad idea. He was leaving, and was a tie to my past, but that didn’t still the need that coursed through my veins when he touched me.

‘Yeah, and Simone Biles is just a gymnast,’ she called me out. ‘He helped you out after your shower curtain tragedy, and how many times did he happen to need a book or an iced tea this week?’

‘A few,’ I admitted.

Since our impromptu pizza meal, Ford had made more than one appearance at the P&P. He swore it was because he wanted new books, or that the summer heat made him thirsty, but Maisey was right. He did make a few excuses to run into me.

I should have used those moments to remind him we were only friends, but the way his mouth softened, how his gaze hungrily traveled the length of me, had me swallowing all my protests.

It was nice to flirt every once in a while. To remember I was a woman who liked attention from a ridiculously attractive guy. And when he laughed, pushed those glasses up the bridge of his nose, there may have been a swoop in my belly I hadn’t felt since I had my first crush in high school.

I walked into the bathroom and shut the door so she couldn’t press the subject anymore. Having him in town, living next door, it was too much. The last thing I needed was to catch feelings for a guy who was going to turn around and leave in a few months.

I pushed Ford out of my head and tugged on the shirt Maisey picked and the skirt followed.

Dammit. The outfit looked good.

As if she could read my thoughts, she said through the door, ‘You look fantastic, right?’

I cracked open the door and the contrite look on my face made her squeal and clap her hands excitedly. She pushed her way inside the bathroom, yanking out my makeup and grabbing my flat iron from a basket next to the sink. More than once her stare moved to the spot where Ford had to spackle the wall and then to the small bandage over my eyebrow.

‘What else did you and Ford chat about the other night?’ Her smile faded. ‘Did he say anything about Old Mrs V?’

‘You know he can’t give information about a patient.’

She gave a reluctant nod and started to work on my hair, pulling back half and threading it into a fishtail braid.