Page 81 of Secondhand Secrets

“Now, you know he’s still holding a place for you there in case the Argyle thing doesn’t flourish. And it being my job to make sure you’re okay, I’m one hundred percent in agreement with the man insisting on your rest.”

Her mom stood at her side, as though looming might get her to pack away all the paints and do as told. Ally pitched forth a half-hearted side glare. “I love you, Momma, but I’m twenty-three now, and it’s past time we transitioned to me taking full care of myself.”

“Ally.” Her mother’s brows drew together, and she gave a warning shake of her head. “Everyone needs some help some of the time.”

“I know.” Ally reached out and patted her mother’s hand resting on the tabletop, being sure to soften her scowl in the process. “But could you trust me on this one? I’m where I need to be and doing what I need to do. I’ll be just fine.”

None of that was a lie, she was light years closer to where she wanted to be. The real shame was that it took her experience with Chip to show her the way. To show her who she really was. That she loved Harlow. That there was nothing wrong with being a small-town girl. Not for her.

Maybe the Argyle deal would provide enough money to travel, but she’d always find her way back here. Even then, Emilia wanted to line up more clients for Ally’s work, so making a consistent income from her art maybe wasn’t as far-fetched as she’d once thought.

Maybe she’d move into her own place somewhere closer to Main Street. She’d put more pieces into the local boutiques and build toward opening Harlow’s first art gallery.

Other small towns had them, so why not this one?

Dreams and direction. For the first time ever, she had both.

And still, some of her literal dreams included Chip.

Dreams where she awoke alone, feeling a piece of her missing.

Because a piece of her was missing.

But sometimes growth was about losing things too, right? Like how trees lost their leaves or children lost their baby teeth, all in the throes of moving from one stage of life to the next.

So she’d made the right choice, even if “right” didn’t stop the persistent gnawing sensation in her tummy through every waking hour. The pain remained. As did the tears. As well as the urge to call him and beg for another chance.

Warmth touched her cheek. More precisely, her mother’s hand turned Ally’s face, so she looked directly into those familiar golden-brown eyes. “I never wanted to be the reason any child of mine held back.”

Ally’s chest muscles constricted, halting her breath while intensifying the existing pain around her heart.

“Mom…you never were—” A laugh broke from her, and she shook her head, her voice husky and her eyes prickling. “Okay, maybe you were a tiny part of why I chose Harlow, but only because you and Dad did too good a job creating a loving home, yah know? What woman in her right mind would abandon a life that essentially feels like one, big, long, warm hug?”

“Oh, you.” Her mother’s eyes brightened, and she leaned in, pulling Ally into an actual hug. “The big, long, warm hugs aren’t going anywhere, but we’re not the only ones who’ll ever have them for you, my little one.”

Ally chuckled against her mother’s neck despite the reference to her dating life or, more pointedly, Chip.

Thankfully, her mother knew better than to push too hard when it came to love, so as much as her fondness for Chip remained, not once had she tried to push Ally his way.

Soft and predictable comfort seeped down to her bones, the release of tension working gentle tears free from her eyes. Even in the safety of this embrace, she wasn’t totally safe.

Harlow hosted a larger police presence, and all residents had orders to stay vigilant and report anything suspicious. The chance of new Syndicate activity kept her on edge, and the constant thoughts of Chip doubly so.

But she’d asked for this, hadn’t she? Well, not exactly this. Not the Syndicate. Not the heartbreak. But change.

And the universe had delivered that in spades.

Forty

Chip pushed another cardboard moving box into the trunk of the borrowed Hyundai Tucson parked outside his father’s house. With an hour left to return the small SUV to Jamie, he didn’t have much time to stop and think, and still, he did—uncharacteristic rage continuing to churn within.

His thoughts caught on the day Ally fled from Boston. More precisely, his dad’s refusal to stop her. That he could have at least woken Chip so he could catch up to her. Or even just not lie about her going sightseeing. Then again, all those options would have hampered Chip’s success, and his dad simply could not have that.

Get real, none of that would have stopped her from leaving.

He growled to himself and slammed the trunk closed with a firm thunk, then turned for the house again in pursuit of more boxes. For the first time in his life, emotion took over while daily bitterness and ruminating overrode basic sense.

Even though his dad viewed Chip’s packing endeavors from his favorite armchair in the living room, Chip ignored him and strolled on by.

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