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Ally blinked up, her lips pursed like she held back a smile. “My guess is you’ve got lady troubles.”
He forced back an angry growl, his muscles tense from having to control his true aggravation. “That’s is none of your business, and this conversation is over.”
“Ooh. Well now, so you do have lady troubles.” She unleashed her famous mega-watt smile, leaning into the counter as she spoke. “And your personal problems are my business when you’re being all snippy, and I have to work with you. Plus, you were rude to my new friend, who also just happens to be new to this town. And you’re all about keeping people in this town, ya? You mightta at least tried to make Emilia feel welcome.”
The mention of his life’s mission, paired with Emilia’s name, along with the myriad ways her presence in town messed with his existence, brought a strain to his heart.
Just over ten years ago, he’d been an idiot teenager whose biggest worry was which party to go to or which beach to visit. He’d grown up in Harlow, but LA, with its endless opportunities, had been perfect for him. He’d had plans to live out his dreams of being a craftsman in a big city. He’d wanted a big and glossy showroom and his work to fill the homes of anybody who was anybody.
All that had changed the day he’d met Emilia.
He turned his back and worked on storming away, a dull ache taking up space in his chest. “I’m sure Emilia will recover just fine.”
And probably better than he had.
“Oh my!” Ally’s words crossed the store, and she soon chased close behind, like a small dog nipping at his heels. “You like her, dontcha?”
He stopped in his tracks but didn’t turn. “Get back to work.”
A high-pitched giggle cut through the air. “I knew it. I knew it. If you play your cards right… Oh. Oh no. But what about—”
He spun around and started marching toward her, angry heat engulfing his torso.Ally’s expression fell, eyes wide, her abrupt silence making it clear she didn’t want to finish her sentence.
“You said something to Emilia, didn’t you?”
Ally held up both hands, professing innocence. But it wasn’t enough to reassure him. “This isn’t one of your schoolyard games, Ally. What did you say?”
“I didn’t say anything. It’s all fine, only…” She took two steps back and used the counter as a barrier between them.
He growled, aware he was a jerk for scaring her but needing to know what kind of damage she’d done. “Only?”
“You won’t get angrier than you already are, will you?” She looked down and fidgeted with her papers.
“I’ll try not to.”
She nodded, though her face lost all color. “After you stormed off last night, we were all wondering what your problem was. I figured... Well... I might have mentioned Sarah.”
He slammed an open palm onto the glass countertop, and an electrified jolt tore through his arm while the whole counter shook. Ally startled, and again, guilt twisted at his gut.
He’d scared her. He hated himself for that. Regretted his reaction immediately. But goddammit, did she always have to leave a trail of destruction in her wake?
He leaned forward, digging his fingers into the counter, so he had somewhere to release the strain that was eating at him. “Tell me exactly what you said.”
He waited as her gaze darted around the room, and she bit her lower lip, stalling for time. She didn’t know a thing about the complexities of his situation with Sarah, and his not-so-trusty shop assistant here would one-hundred percent say something that would get someone hurt.
Sarah deserved more than being the focus of local gossip, especially when that gossip occurred within the walls of the very establishment her family owned. Maynard’s Tavern.
“I didn’t say much.” Ally shifted in her spot, her voice small. “Just that you were acting weird, and maybe Sarah was the reason. At first, Emilia asked for more information, but I made an excuse about needing to use the bathroom, and she seemed to get the hint after that. I mean, you’re my boss and all, and I figured I should probably watch what I say, right?”
She gave a weak smile, which dropped as quickly as it appeared.
The tension he only now noticed in his shoulders slipped, and he lowered his chin, zeroing in on what she’d just said. “Emilia asked about Sarah?”
Ally pressed her hand over her heart, the strain on her face all but gone, like she’d pick up on his shift in mood. “Yes, but I didn’t say much. I swear.”
He nodded and tapped his knuckle to the counter again to distract from her seeing any sign of his satisfaction, before he doubled back toward his workshop.
“What did I do?” Ally called out behind him. “Blaine, what just happened?”
He gave her no answer, his mind tangling with the possibility that Harlow’s newest resident wasn’t above a little jealousy. Then there was the war of emotions clashing within him. Not only that, Emilia knew at least something of Sarah. In no time at all, she’d know even more. That’s how Harlow worked. If anyone was going to tell Emilia about Sarah, then he wanted that person to be him.
Whichever way he looked at this, something had to change, and he had decisions to make, conversations to have, confessions to give. With Sarah. Maybe Emilia too. And he would have to do all of this sooner rather than later.
