“Our town square is not going to die.” I scribbled a few more notes. Stevie’s caffeine-induced freak out had given me a great idea for a story. The town square was the lifeblood of this community, but what would that look like for the next generation?
“What?” I looked up at Stevie when she’d finally stopped talking, and she was giving me a weird look. “Do I have spinach in my teeth?”
“You said our.”
“Our what?”
“You said our town square is not going to die. You like it here, don’t you?”
“Maybe.” I grabbed my mouse and turned back to my computer, ignoring her gloating. “It doesn’t mean I’m staying, Stevie.”
“Sure it doesn’t.” She went back to the Keurig.
“No more cappuccinos for you, missy. Your mother will kill me if I send you home hopped up on caffeine and sugar, and I can’t run this place without you.”
“Darn right you can’t.” She bypassed the Keurig and went to her desk.
I made a note to remind myself to go talk to Mrs. O’Brien about her store closing. I could understand her reasons for doing so, but I wanted to help her break the news to the town in a way they could understand and support her decision. And if I could somehow salvage the shop in the process, even better.
I’d developed a habit of spending my afternoons combing through the daily gossip that came in through the anonymous tip line on our website. Most of it was just bits of random gossip about neighbors and the usual suspects, but some of our best town voyeurs happened to be great writers too. These tips came to us in the form of short articles, often with pictures and research resources to corroborate their claims. I wasn’t about to say no to free articles for my paper.
As I scanned through a batch of today’s uploads, a familiar name caught my eye.
“Carter Ashford lying near death at Superiore Bay Hospital after crashing his Ferrari.”
There was a picture with the tip. My hands shook as I tapped on the image to make it bigger. His beautiful car was a mangled mess of twisted metal and broken glass.
“Carter.” I grabbed my keys and ran for the door.
“Harper, what’s wrong?” Stevie called.
“Lock up when you’re done.” I was through the door before she could call me back. I didn’t know what I would find at the hospital, but the only thought in my mind was getting there. After everything we’d been through over the years—after how we’d left things since the kiss—I refused to believe this was where it would all end for us.
Chapter Sixteen
“How are we doing this afternoon, Mr. Ashford?” The cute nurse zoomed around my room, fluffing pillows, refilling my water, and dolling out my pain meds. She had more energy than Stevie after six cappuccinos.
“I’d be doing a lot better if you’d let me go home.” I winced as I tried to sit up in the world’s most uncomfortable bed. I’d never been in the hospital before. I was going to give it zero stars on Yelp once I was out of here.
“The doctor wants to observe you one more night. That was a terrible accident you were in, Mr. Ashford. You’re lucky you don’t have any major injuries.” She fussed with my blankets, making sure I was comfortable. Comfort wasn’t happening in this place.
“Fine, how about something to help me sleep? Just knock me out now, and wake me up when it’s time to go.”
“You have a concussion.” She stood with her hands on her hips. “You need some quiet time with lots of natural rest. No drugs.”
“I could do that so much better at home.”
“The faster you go to sleep so we can observe you, the quicker you’ll get to go home once someone shows up to take you there.”
“I’ll call an Uber.”
“No, you won’t.” She turned off my television. “No screen time, no loud music, and no going home without a caretaker.”
“You are not a very nice nurse.” I tried rolling onto my side to see if that was more comfortable. It wasn’t.
“Carter!”
I recognized her voice the second I heard it in the hall.
“I’m looking for Carter Ashford?” Harper sounded terrified.
“Are you family?” Someone just outside the room asked her.
“No, I—"
“I’m in here, Harper!” I shouted as loud as I could manage with bruised ribs.
“Carter?” She came rushing into the dim room, looking like she thought I was dead.
“Hey.” I tried smiling, but my face hurt nearly as bad as my pounding head.
“You’re okay?” She turned to the nurse. “Is he okay?”
“Harps, I’m fine. Take a breath.” She looked white as a ghost, and her eyes were huge.
“He’s got a concussion, so we’re watching him for another day,” the nurse explained. “He’s very lucky.”
“I injured my face.” I tried scowling at the nurse, but that hurt too. “It was a good face.”
“I’m sure it will be just fine. Even if it scars.”
“Scars? Nobody said anything about scars.” I sat up, immediately regretting it. My back felt like a pretzel. One car accident had turned me into an old man.
“See how we tease him?” The nurse laughed. “The cosmetic surgeon treated your injuries. It won’t scar.” She winked and made her way out to the hall with her rolling cart of drugs she wouldn’t let me have.
“How’d you know I was here?”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Harper moved to sit on the bed beside me. “You look terrible.”
“Thanks. I feel pretty crappy.”
“Someone sent in a tip to the Weekly Wine. It about gave me a heart attack. If I ever find out who sent it, I’m going to kill them. They said you were near death, and there was a picture of your car.”
“How is she?” I reached for Harper’s hand. “Is it bad? You can tell me. I can take it.”
Her lips twitched, and she tried to hide it. It was okay, I knew very well I was completely ridiculous when it came to my car. I loved that car.
“When I saw it … I thought you died.” Harper shook her head. “I don’t know how you came out of that in one piece.”
“So, it’s not good for my car then?”
“’Fraid not.” She held my hand.
It was like the kiss never happened. Like the awkwardness I was expecting just vanished in light of my accident. I dreaded what would happen once the shock wore off.
Harper moved closer, smoothing a hand over my forehead. I had twenty-eight meticulous stitches down the side of my face. If it did scar, it would probably be a sexy scar. I could work with that.
“That looks like it hurts.” She smiled. “Can I get you anything?”
“You can get me out of here.” I made to move out of the bed, but my back didn’t want to cooperate.
“We’ll give that a shot when you can get out of bed on your own.” She pushed me back on the mattress.
“You’re as mean as that nurse,” I grumbled, fully aware I sounded like a grumpy four-year-old.
“You mean the super sweet girl that was just here?”
“She’s got a mean streak, I’m telling you. She wouldn’t even get me an extra Jell-O this morning.”
“Poor Carter.” She moved away, and I could see the shock wearing off. She was thinking about that stupid kiss.
I rubbed my head. “The pounding headache doesn’t help.”
“Did you hit your head?” She moved back, checking me over for more injuries. “Wow, that’s a major bump.” She found the huge boulder on the back of my head. The source of my misery at the moment.
“It’s pretty awful, Harps. I know it could be a lot worse, but I seriously don’t like this place.”
“How’s your memory? Did they test you? Have you seen a neurologist?”
“I did. They cleared me with a concussion. Things are a little hazy.” I couldn’t remember exactly how the accident even happened. One minute, I was desperate to get back to Harper and fix the mess I’d mad
e. The next, I was in an ambulance and had no idea what happened.
“I’ve heard some more severe concussions can cause short-term memory loss.” She looked so worried.
I shouldn’t have done it.
I was a monster for even thinking of it.
But I needed to give her an out.
“I talked to the neurologist about that. I don’t remember the last couple days at all. It’s super hazy, but she said things would come back to me. That’s part of why they want to observe me for another night before they let me go home.”
I was a dirt bag for lying, but the relief in her eyes was worth it. I’d come clean about it later.
“That’s awful. I’m so sorry this happened.” She moved to sit on the bed beside me, and I made a monumental effort to scoot over so she could lay back with me.
“I’ll go get you something good for dinner. No more Jell-O for you.” She reached for the remote. “We’ll find a good movie and hang out like old times.”
“Too bad that remote doesn’t work. I’m not allowed to look at screens, so I’m bored out of my mind here, Harps. That’s why I say we make a break for it.”
“We are not making a break for it. I’d never get you out of this room without a wheelchair, and I’m not stealing one.”
“Fine. I guess you can go get me food, and I will try to take a nap like I’m supposed to.”
“Okay, but try not to get into any more trouble while I’m gone.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Are you sure I’m not hurting you?” I leaned up on my elbow and looked down at Carter. Crawling into bed with him had felt natural, even after all these years. But I needed to touch him, to feel him, and make myself believe he was still here.
And he didn’t remember our kiss. Part of me was disappointed, but mostly I was relieved. I didn’t want him to think of the way I pulled away from him, the way I said no, denying to myself how much I needed him.
It hit me the moment I saw the email tip about his accident. I could have lost him forever, and the thought of never seeing him again, that charming smile, the easy laugh … it was incomprehensible.
It had been so easy to walk away from Garret, to give up everything we had, yet there was no way I could make myself leave Carter right now if I tried.
And I didn’t want to try.
Even his eyes were smiling as he gazed up at me, and he tried to mask a wince as he laughed.
“Oh gosh, I am, aren’t I?” I tried to roll off the bed, but Carter grabbed my arm.
“No, don’t go anywhere.”
Our eyes clashed and held as he tried to communicate something in a language only I would understand. He needed me. Here, right now. After everything he’d been through, I was the person he wanted.
I relaxed against the pillows, making sure not to put pressure on any part of him. I imagined he was one giant bruise. He was lucky. I knew that. He knew it. The whole world would once they saw his car.
It was a miracle Carter got out of that accident with just a concussion, a few bruised ribs, and twenty-eight stitches. It was a miracle he was alive.
I turned onto my side to gaze at him and drew a line with my finger across his forehead, pushing his hair away from his skin. There was a second cut along his hairline that had been glued shut, and blood stained his beautiful skin.
“I was scared,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper, “when I got the email. I don’t think I’ve ever been that terrified in my entire life.”
His lips curved into a sad smile. “Me too. Not during the crash, that happened too quickly for me to feel much of anything, but after. When I woke up in the hospital alone. I was scared then.”
“Where’s your family? Shouldn’t they be here?”
He shook his head, and pain flashed across his face at the movement. “I don’t want … no. Don’t call them. Please.”
I reached down and threaded my fingers through his. “Well, it’s a good thing they don’t need to be here then because I’m not leaving you.”
“You don’t have to stay. They won’t let me go until tomorrow, which is stupid. The accident was yesterday. One night here is enough.”
“They’re looking out for you. And of course I’m staying, you dingbat. We’re friends. No matter what else we’ve been to each other, we’ve always been friends.”
His hand squeezed mine. “Okay, fine.”
We were silent for a long moment after that, both of us lying still, our shoulders touching.
“Do you want to talk about the accident?” I stared at the ceiling, trying to bring us back to the comfortable way we’d always had with each other, where we could say anything.
“No.”
“Oh, okay.”
His chest rose and fell as he sighed. “Harper, it’s not because I don’t want to talk to you. I just don’t really remember much.”
“Right.” I was such an idiot. “You’d said you had memory loss. Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”
His hand was heavy in mine, and it was all I could focus on. A sudden surge of doubt hit me. “I never even questioned if you want me here. You probably would rather have Lena. You two are each other’s people now. I’m not really part of that anymore and—"
“Harper?” Carter cut me off.
“Yeah?”
“Shut up.”
I turned my head again and caught a smile playing on his lips. “That’s not nice.” I was smiling now too.
He laughed. “Now, we feel like us. See?” He lifted our hands a fraction of an inch off the bed. “You never stopped being part of what we all had. Sure, Lena is my best friend, she’s like my sister, but you were too.”
“Like your sister?”
He rolled his eyes. “No.”
Tucking my head against his shoulder, I hid the smile I couldn’t wipe off my face. “Well, that’s good. Or else you were a creepy teenager.”
His laugh rumbled low in his chest. “You really need to stop making me laugh. It hurts.”
I leaned away from him. “Oh, I should let you rest. You’re right, we shouldn’t be talking.”
Still he didn’t let go of me. “I said not to make me laugh, not that I wanted you to go anywhere. Can you just stop being cute for a few hours?”
My face flushed, and I wasn’t sure what to say to that.
“I can hear you thinking too much.” Carter slid his eyes to me. “Just stop thinking for one night. Please.”
“Not all of us find that as easy as you.” I lowered myself again, wedged between Carter’s solid form and the guard rail.
“Yeah, yeah, Carter doesn’t have a brain. I’ve heard it all before.” There was a smile mixed with the sarcasm in his voice.
I played with the hair that fell over his ear, remembering how jealous I’d been as a teenage girl that he had these perfect curls without even trying. “One of the best things about you, Carter, is that you don’t overthink everything. It’s not that you don’t have a brain—and I’ll punch anyone who doesn’t realize how smart you are—it’s just that you use it differently than other people.”
He stared at me, his eyes darkening. “Harper, I … thank you.”
Something drew tight within me as I realized how similar the years since high school had been for both of us. He lived in a world that told him he wasn’t good enough, that he’d never be good enough, no matter how hard he tried.
So had I.
Always striving to meet impossible expectations could beat a person down until they no longer believed in themselves. When I’d driven into Superiore Bay weeks ago, I wasn’t sure I believed in anything. And that was wrong.
Carter and I … we should be able to set our own goals, celebrate our own accomplishments.
After a while, Carter drifted off to sleep and I climbed over the railing to slide from the bed. A nurse entered to check his vitals as I tiptoed into the hall to make a few phone calls.
First, there was Carter’s boss at the wine bar. She answered on the sec
ond ring. “Vic here.”
“Hey, Vic. You don’t know me, but this is Harper Chapman, Carter Ashford’s friend.”
“Harper, hi. Where is he?” There was worry in her voice. “He didn’t show for his shift last night, and I’ve been trying to reach him all day.”
It warmed me to hear she didn’t just assume he’d skipped out on his shift. “I’ll tell you, but only after you promise not to tell any of the Ashfords.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Promise.”
“Yeah, sure. What’s going on?”
“Carter is in the hospital. He was in a car accident. I don’t think he’ll be able to work for at least a few days.”
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. Please tell him to take as much time as he needs.”
“He’ll appreciate that, thanks.”
We hung up, and I dialed the one number Carter would kill me for. But whatever he said, Lena was his person, and she needed to know what happened.
“Hey, Harps,” she answered. “I’m a bit busy right now with paperwork, but—"
“Lena—"
“We could chat later. Or maybe meet up for dinner. Conner is out of town on wine business for a day or two, so I thought we could call Carter and—"
“Selena Contreras,” I snapped, shutting her up. “Carter is in the hospital.”
She was silent for a moment before jumping in with her many questions. “Is he okay? What happened? How long has he been there? What can I do? I’ll come right away.” She was near tears by the time she ran out of questions.
“Lena, calm down.” I drew in a deep breath, realizing I had panicked the same way. “He’s okay. He was in a car accident and has a concussion, so they’re keeping him until tomorrow. He’s asleep now, so there’s no point in you coming here, but—"
“But what?”
“He doesn’t want his family to know.”
The breath rushed out of her. “Okay, I get that. I can’t keep this from Conner once he’s home, but I don’t need to tell him until then.”
“That works. I just thought you’d want to know since you guys …”
“He’s family, Harps.” Her voice thickened. “I hate not jumping in my car right now and speeding over there.”
The Second Chance Page 10