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Twenty-Three
“Welcome to Harlow.” Ally stood on Dean’s doorstep, her usual exuberant smile and chipper tone crossing the landing.
“I’ve been here over a week.” He frowned and squinted against the bright spring sun, the harsh rays hitting his bare torso above his gray pajama pants. “Aren’t we past the introduction phase?”
He held a hand over his brow and tried not to smile too hard. Not because of Ally, exactly, but because he’d never had so many chances to sleep in as he did in Harlow. Speaking of Ally, the woman’s face was a few shades rosier now, her wide-eyed stare frozen on his chest and her lips slightly parted.
“I… ahh…” She shook her head and blinked up at him, raising the woven basket in her hand. “I… I brought breakfast… You know, since I extended the same courtesy to Emilia when she first moved in. It’s only fair I do the same for you.”
He glared into her bright blue eyes, her rapid blinks changing to a more intentional and less innocent flutter.
Ally, as smooth as she thought she was, seemed to attempt to make herself at home in his life; but then, maybe that wasn’t it. Sarah had mentioned that Harlow people didn’t believe in privacy or personal space, so this little intrusion could be just the way things were done around here.
Ally’s sunny yellow dress seemed to conspire toward that logic. The young woman was like Mary Poppins and a ball of sunshine rolled into one. Not exactly his kind of woman, but pretty nonetheless.
His empty stomach growled for him to step aside and handle whatever Miss Sunshine here threw at him, so she and her basket could make good on the promise of breakfast.
“Thank you.” Ally skipped past the second he moved aside.
He closed the door and trailed after her into the living room. “Has anyone told you it’s not a good idea to invite yourself into strange men’s homes?”
“You saved Aggie’s nursery and my plant pots. Those aren’t the actions of a bad guy.” She plonked the basket down on his coffee table and swanned into his kitchen. “Besides, as you said, we’re hardly strangers now, are we?”
He frowned and sat in his armchair, tugging on a sweater he’d tossed there last night. Meanwhile, she set his kettle to boil and then rummaged through one cupboard after another in a probable search for cups.
Yep, definitely making herself at home…
“I have a few things to get through today.” He kept his voice flat and non-emotive, not wanting to lead her into thinking this interaction meant any more than it did.
“Oh, no worries.” She dug around in his fridge now, two cups waiting on his counter, while she pulled out a carton of milk. “We’ll make this quick.”
So, for the sake of “quickness,” he added, “There’s a jar of instant coffee in the cupboard above the stove.”
Ally scrunched her nose, as if he’d told her his cupboard contained a human head. “It’s okay, I brought my own grinds.”
She strolled over to the coffee table, deposited the carton of milk, and then pulled out a tall, glass coffee plunger and a metal tin from her basket.
He shook his head but kept his mouth shut while she popped the metal tin open at his counter and scooped the contents out with one of his spoons, the grinds going into the plunger. “So, what are your plans for today, anyhoo?”
“The sheriff hired me to do some odd jobs over at the station, though it’s hard to tell if he trusts me or just wants to suss me out some more.”
“Pfft.” She swatted her hand in a dismissive gesture, still focusing down at her coffee making. “Old Marlin is like that with everyone he doesn’t know yet. Besides, I saw your advert up at the general store, and it’s great that you already have some interest. Aggie sounded eager to have you help at the nursery too, yah?”
He waited for the kettle’s burble to die down before he answered, the mention of Aggie’s work offer adding a sharp prickle to his skin since he had something to do with Emilia not being around.
His cellphone gave a loud buzzing sound over the glass of his coffee table, the glowing screen showing a concealed number. The only people he knew who used those were telemarketers and anyone from the syndicate. Even though he’d changed phones since leaving, only giving his new number to Ramos, he sure wasn’t about to pick up any concealed call.
Rudolph Manzinni, Luciano’s boss, the one who oversaw all syndicate branches from East Coast to West, would be riding Luciano for answers. Luciano would be sweating buckets looking for news on Dean.
With any luck, the syndicate would realize he wasn’t causing them any trouble. They would get distracted with some bigger drama and leave him alone.
“Not going to answer that?” Ally navigated her way around the couch, placing two mugs of coffee down while nodding to his phone.
“Probably nothing important.” He snatched up the phone and shut it off completely, distracting Ally by jutting his chin out toward the contents of her basket, open and also on the coffee table. Strawberries, a plate of homemade biscuits, even a small vase of wild flowers… “You’ve gone to a lot of effort there.”
She went about pulling everything out, wild flowers included. “It’s no trouble.”
But a deep blush ran up her neck and into her cheeks, telling him otherwise.
