Page 48 of Secondhand Secrets

“Big things are coming your way, Ally Bear.” She paused while her chin gave a perceptible wobble. “I can just feel it.”

Ally moved to stand, to get closer to her mom and extend some comfort, but her mom shot a hand out, once more shutting down an offer of help.

Instead, her mother pushed out of her seat, a wet tear rolling down her cheek and over the light makeup she’d bothered to wear that day while she choked out a broken, “Excuse me.”

Twenty-Three

Chip raised the beer in his hand high in the air and stumbled back just as a child from the party crashed through the huddle he had going with Blaine, Dean, and Gordon at the barbecue.

“So much for a quiet family thing.” Dean fixed his attention on Chip with a shrug. “You should start worrying this event is less about welcoming you back and more about convincing you to stay.”

Dean’s suggestion had Chip slipping his gaze to Ally seated with her mother and sister, his heart shifting as she waved. He waved back and forced an easy smile, the other guys figuring it would be funny to do the same.

Their chuckles surrounded him, as his thoughts clung to how less complicated life was around here. These people, his first home and community, so quick to welcome him back like a much-loved family member. The pace was slower with less pressure to tie himself into knots trying to impress.

“If that’s the plan, I’m sure to sorely disappoint everyone.” He snapped his focus back to Dean and took a quick swig of his beer. “I have too much to return to in Boston.”

That much was true. He did have things to achieve and a skillset and career that needed exploring. He would never be happy without seeing that part of his life through. But then Ally—the woman he fast envisioned his future with—well, she lived here in Harlow and perhaps always would.

“You mean, like that grant everyone keeps talking about?” Blaine pointed his bottle at Chip before retracting it. “I hear you’ll be outta here in about nine days, ready to collect your prize.”

Chip’s quick chuckle faded to a silent frown. Everyone’s talking about this grant. Maybe the pressure to impress wasn’t so removed from Harlow after all, although the people here would likely give him less flack if he failed to win.

His father’s voice whispered in his ear, “Mediocrity is not an option. You have to be flawless.” Physically. Intellectually. Professionally. But right now, Stonewall had flaws. The security components weren’t fully stable yet, and being a security program, that was a huge deal.

But Encode doesn’t expect a finished product.

But if Stonewall was imperfect, then so was Chip, and imperfection opened him to failure and scrutiny soon after.

He took another sip of his beer, his focus pinned to the meat sizzling on the grill ahead. As much as he rebelled against his dad’s thinking, his fear of failure was so ingrained that incessant doubts left Chip something to prove. To himself. To his father. As though proving himself would heal him or set him free.

Perhaps financially, but not in the ways I’d like.

“It’s nice not to be the one cooking for a change.” Gordon nodded to the grill Chip stared at, as if the man assumed Chip’s line of sight meant he’d been thinking about food.

“Here’s hoping Ally’s dad can level up to a Gordon O’Dwyer steak.” Blaine gave Gordon a friendly slap on the back. “Otherwise, you and the rest of us might be heading back to Maynard’s for a meal after all.”

“I think I’m morally obliged to stay.” Chip shrugged and gave a mock sigh. “But Sarah tells me Gordon’s pies net Maynard’s a healthy stream of positive online reviews, so save one for me if things don’t work out here.”

“Uff-dah.” Gordon gave a light-hearted chuckle and nudged Chip with an elbow, his pale cheeks sporting a distinct flush. “Thanks for giving me a reason to hit Sarah up for a pay raise, but I’m sure Mr. Egan is more than passable on the grill. I’m also sure he, like the rest of us, is just glad to see Ally Egan happy for a change.”

Chip took a few moments to stare down at his beer bottle, pretending the red and white label held far more interest than it actually did. “For now, anyway.”

“I don’t know, Chip.” This time Blaine spoke, the jovial spark in his green eyes expressing hopefulness. “You’ve brought a new spark to her eye. Maybe you’ll both figure out a way to make things work.”

Though Chip opened his mouth to express his doubts, Gordon cut in first. “Not as though we haven’t seen more unlikely couples end up together.”

He, Blaine, and then Dean gave a unified and knowing nod.

“Oh, yeah?” Never one to admit defeat, Chip jutted his chin in Gordon’s direction. “And what about you? Have you ended up with anyone lately?”

“Ha!” Dean threw his head back before returning his focus to the group. “The man’s caught in a perpetual loop of hiding in Maynard’s kitchen or sleeping off a late shift. I’d be surprised if any woman here even remembers what he looks like.”

“Hey!” Gordon sent Dean a mock glare. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

A flurry of activity exploded from Ally’s general direction, and Dean’s chance to reply died.

Chip twisted around to see Ally’s mother hurrying toward the back porch, her hand pressed over her cheek in a gesture of despair. Laila ran close behind, her daughter Whitney, joining the train of Egan women disappearing into the house.

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