Free Letting Go by Bridie Hall Page A

news twice already, particularly as there seemed to be no good news at all. She skipped country station after country station, until she heard a good song. “There,” she said more to herself than to Harper.
    “Tell me,” he said, “do you ever let go?”
    “Huh?” She was still concentrating on the lyrics of the song and wasn’t listening to him. She wasn’t aware that he’d watched her closely the entire time, until she looked up and was met with his stare.
    “Did you ever do something wild or stupid just for the fuck of it?”
    “No,” she said. “Why would I?”
    “ Because it’s fun?” He raised his eyebrows.
    “And dangerous? And like you said yourself—stupid? It can have consequences?”
    “And sometimes, Isabelle, believe it or not, it can be pure unadulterated fun.”
    “Doubt that.”
    “Can I prove it to you?”
    “How?” she frowned. She wondered what he was up to now.
    “Do you trust me?”
    “With this? No, absolutely not,” she said, and Harper laughed. She rolled her eyes and ignored him. It started raining again.
    “Come on, give me , say, an hour? I promise to bring you home alive and well,” he said, still chuckling.
    “No.”
    “It’ll be fun, I promise. We won’t break any laws.”
    At that, she yielded enough to look at him, and for a second even considered agreeing. “I don’t believe you.”
    “Have I ever lied to you?” he asked.
    She tried thinking of an example, but his dark gaze was distracting. He was doing it on purpose, she knew, the soulful eyes, the promises. Anything to get her to agree to something that would undoubtedly make her look like a fool, or worse.
    As if he’d read her mind, he counted off on his fingers, “I won’t force you to get naked—unless you’ll want to—you won’t have to drink alcohol, hurt any kittens in the process, or do anything dangerous.”
    She narrowed her eyes. This sounded too legal and safe to be true.
    “Let me make a call,” he said, pulling the leather jacket on before he opened the door and stepped out of the car.
    Who was he calling that he couldn’t do it in the car? When he returned, she asked him.
    “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, would it? You in?” He pressed his palms together like in a prayer, and pouted.
    “ I swear I’ll kill you if I get arrested,” she threatened.
    “You got that backwards —you’ll get arrested if you kill me. Plus, who’ll make you laugh when I’m dead?”
    She couldn’t help herself, the laugh came out, and she was helpless to stop it.
    “See?” he smirked and started the car.
    In twenty minutes , they stopped in a small town she’d never heard of. Harper parked the car on the curb across from a restaurant. Isabelle looked around to see where there was anything fun to do around here. If anything, the street looked dull, unadventurous. Her kind of street.
    “ Coming?” Harper asked, crossing the street towards the restaurant, where a woman came out onto the sidewalk and waved at Harper.
    Confused and cautious, Isabelle caught up with him and whispered, “I thought you said you wouldn’t get me drunk?”
    “Relax. Be patient.”
    Be patient? She had been antsy the entire ride here, thinking this was the biggest mistake ever. God knew what he’d get her into. How could she have been so stupid to agree to this? Good thing Dad wasn’t very temperamental. And Jamie either, for that matter. That way she would avoid punishment and fighting if she found herself in trouble.
    “ Harper,” the woman said when they came up to her. Isabelle noticed she was younger than she’d guessed from across the street, though older than Harper. Late twenties, early thirties maybe. She was pretty, dark haired, petite, and she nearly jumped in Harper’s lap when she hugged him. God, what was with the PDA, Isabelle thought, horrified.
    “Hey, Missy. Long time no see,” Harper said with a sweet voice at which Isabelle balked.
    “Too long,” Missy cooed.
    “Thanks for