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She padded over and opened the screen door for him, chest still heaving under a slew of heavy breaths. “I thought it’d be easier if I stayed out of your way.”
Once again, he forced his gaze higher, but for a whole other reason. He lowered his toolbox to her ancient counter and stepped out of Wayne and Jacob’s way, their hands cupped over their mouths in a clear attempt to hold back laughter. “That’s a noble plan, but you didn’t think I’d recognize my own stuff sitting here in your house?”
The boys disappeared outside, leaving him alone with Emilia while she switched her gaze from side to side like she tried to locate an answer to his question. This time, he was the one restraining a laugh, though unlike Wayne and Jacob, his prior negative experiences with this woman bolstered his attempt.
She let out a sigh and leaned against the far wall, probably because her table and chairs hadn’t been wheeled in yet, so sitting wasn’t an option. “Honestly, you’ve been so short with me, I only thought about how to get the furniture here without having to talk to you.”
She lifted her hands in a resigned gesture, only for silence to take over.
He hadn’t shown her much warmth during that first meeting, and then he’d stormed off at Maynard’s. Given his general frostiness, he understood her reticence now, but understanding didn’t stop the burning in his stomach. That hot and familiar sense of rejection.
She huffed out a breath, one strong enough to push a loose curl winding down the side of her face. “Look, I’m sorry about the covert shopping, okay? Wasn’t someone supposed to tell me you’d be turning up today?”
“Frank and Maureen own this house, and they’re paying for my services.” He turned his back to her, getting his tools out so he could hurry up and finish this last job for the day. “They knew, so take it up with them.”
Wayne and Jacob came back in wheeling Emilia’s new mattress. She followed them down the hall, allowing him to get on with smashing out the overhead cupboards; where he found relief in the long minutes lacking in unease, coupled with the exertion of swinging a sledgehammer. If he were lucky, he’d get through today without having to speak another word to her.
Though it took the boys some time to assemble the bed frame and set up the mattress, the time alone wasn’t nearly long enough before the trio’s voices traveled down the corridor, and everyone returned to the kitchen. Once again Wayne and Jacob ventured off to the truck, and Emilia stayed in the kitchen somewhere behind him. Maybe it was all in his head, but he could feel her eyes burning into his back.
“Blaine?”
He wrenched a loose cupboard door off with his gloved hands and contemplated not answering. But all too soon, the sound of her speaking his name worked its magic ability to pull him back to her every time.
He spun around quickly, hoping the speed in his movement would portray some kind of annoyance, even though despite all expectations, he wasn’t so annoyed at having to talk to her again. “Yep, what is it?”
Her chin was lowered, her sweet brown stare upturned and focused on him, churning his stomach anew. “I know seeing me at Maynard’s upset you. I can see how my presence would stir unwanted feelings. I guess I’m just saying I don’t want things to stay weird between us.”
His jaw clutched of its own volition, the absurdity of her request taking instant effect. He’d spent ten years wondering what had happened to her. Of course, it was weird seeing her again.
“Why are you here?” The question fell from his lips more abruptly than intended.
He swore her hands began to shake a little before she crossed her arms over her chest and tucked her hands under her armpits. “I’d rather not say.”
Right. Well if her goal had been to avoid things being awkward, she’d just shot a big fucking hole through that idea. He shook his head and turned back to his work.
He hadn’t expected to ask about her reason for being in town so soon, much less at all. He didn’t want to give the impression he cared, but he’d be lying if he said her safety didn’t concern him. She lived alone in this house. And then there was the safety of Harlow as a whole. Bad things tended to follow Emilia, and the bruises on her knuckles hinted that was still true.
The boys returned from the truck, Jacob pushing a teal couch on the trolley while Wayne followed lugging a small, four-seater table in his arms. Blaine would have a talk with him about better protecting his back, but for now, he was just hopeful Emilia might go away again.
Except, she didn’t go anywhere.
She just pointed Jacob down the hall and told him to put the couch anywhere in the living room to the left, then turned back to Blaine. “I didn’t know you lived in this town, otherwise I would have chosen anywhere else in America. Trust me.”
Her unrepentant and hissed remark crossed the space, all while Wayne positioned the table in the background. Blaine picked up his hammer, unwilling to engage in this conversation, much less in front of his employee, even if she had attempted to lower her voice. The sooner he got this job done, the better.
“Blaine?”
God, what did she want now?
His life was complicated enough. No doubt hers was too. Why couldn’t she just leave this alone?
“Blaine?”
Her voice rang out. Taut. Insistent. Like she wouldn’t let him get on with his work until he talked to her.
Fine.
He turned, acknowledging her. “I wasn’t upset with you at Maynard’s, okay? Not everything is about you.”
