Page 8 of Secondhand Secrets

“I was bound to return eventually.” He brightened his expression to balance hers.

“You were?” Her lips turned flat and disbelieving, like she’d never once believed he’d come back to this town, only for the naturally mischievous glimmer to return to her eyes.

His hands ached to reach out and hug her, just as they’d done yesterday, his palms recalling the sumptuous heat of her body and the firmness of her narrow frame. But the shine had dimmed from that introduction, and her gaze held more questions today. More doubt.

Not that he blamed her. He had doubts and questions too.

He ran his attention over her again, her hair so much shorter these days, her scraggly long locks exchanged for a sharp do that skimmed her chin—a carefree look that suited what he recalled of her personality. But the color. The color shone the same, not much different to the platinum hue of sunbeams breaking through cloud.

A little shocked at that observation, as well as his desire to reach out and sweep a wayward lock from her cheek, he shifted back, saving them both from an awkward moment.

Still, her gaze flitted about his face too. A sign that she sensed the weight in his pause, her sudden turn down the sidewalk confirming his theory. “What brings you to Main Street, anyway?”

“Just wanted to visit the old stomping ground.” He fell in stride with her. “I definitely didn’t come here hoping to see you.”

Despite his frolic with sarcastic flirting, his better judgement told him to remember Sarah’s warning. Clingy and flighty. What had she meant by that?

Ally glanced at him, a child-like excitement rising in her eyes again, the equally jubilant long flow of her rainbow-colored skirt fluttering in her wake. “Really, you came to see me?”

“I figured you might let me walk you home while we got reacquainted.” He took in more details. Her hot-pink tank top under a sunset pink cardigan. The woman sure wore a lot of pink, although she wore it well. And the turquoise bangles clanging at her wrists said more about how quirky femininity had replaced the ragtag fashion of her girlhood. “Sarah mentioned you usually close for Blaine around now.”

Ally flinched at Sarah’s name, seeming to confirm the rift.

“I, ah… well…” She halted her stride, and so he did too, her focus on him erratic. “I actually drove today.”

Despite the rebuff, she held a new stillness, and a moment passed where they seemed to ponder each other.

“That’ll teach me to make assumptions.” His focus snagged on her cupid’s bow, her upper lip sitting slight fuller than her lower, followed by the pronounced set of her pout. One he now suddenly recognized as part of her “confused” look.

That look harked back to their classroom days, forever his cue to step in and help her. So just like back then, he helped her now, allowing a tension-breaking smile to run full-reign over his face.

Her head tilting back, she let out a shaky laugh. “I mean, I guess I didn’t drive when you last knew me. Maybe your brain needs a minute to disconnect from the past.”

An inescapable lightness filled him and overrode his need to harness his enthusiasm. “No. No, you didn’t. In my mind, we’re still gangly pre-teens stomping in muddy ditches and trying to soak each other on the walk home from school.”

Her laugh cut through clearer now. “All while Sarah outpaced us by about a mile up ahead.”

“Ditch stomping does eat up a bunch of time.” He shrugged, recalling the sensation of cold, damp clothes against his skin, neither set of parents happy for the extra laundry. “And you’d always start it, remember?”

She laughed again, joy seeming to backlight the blue of her eyes. “Hell yes, and I’d do it all again in a heartbeat. Remember those summer afternoons when Sarah would be too busy with her tennis practice? We’d take a forbidden detour to the river instead?”

“Yet another thing you almost always started.” He laughed, forcing his attention on her face, because his heart’s increased beat pushed him to do more than stand here and talk.

“Got you away from your books, didn’t I? Without me, you wouldn’t have any fun childhood memories.” Her focus left him, and he followed her line of sight to a small, electric blue car, the eccentric hue a big hint the vehicle was hers.

“Yah know what?” Her gaze flicked back to him, and she tugged the strap of her huge, patchwork shoulder bag higher. “This is too much fun. Let’s walk, after all.”

His jaw wavered a beat while he scrambled to recalibrate in the wake of her surprise change in plans. “W… what about your car?”

Shut up, dude. You wanted this, remember?

“I’ll get my car in the morning.” She tilted her head sideways in a gesture for him to follow. Not wanting any regrets, he did so without any further protest. “I need to walk more, anyway.”

So they fell into step, arm in arm, like old times yet somehow, not at all like then.

But just like then, he reached out, took her bag off her shoulder, and slung it over his. “This thing’s heavy. What do you keep in here?”

“Never question a woman on the contents of her purse.” She turned to him, her brow raised. “Besides if I told you, I’d have to break your legs.”

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