Page 24 of There’s Trouble Brewing

“Here I am, doing what I forgot I loved…thanks to you.”

The heartfelt exchange faded, leaving a peaceful atmosphere between them. Mark couldn’t help staring at her lips and noticed she was doing the same to him. He pondered whether kissing her would match what he imagined all those times they were interrupted.

“We should be careful,” she whispered, half warning, half plea.

Mark moved closer, close enough to know she was breathing harder now. “Not my style.”

“Not mine either,” Emily whispered as she licked her lips.

It was the invitation he’d been waiting for, letting go ofthe logic that had kept him guarded. His lips found hers with an intensity he couldn’t hold back. His mouth moved slow yet deliberate, as if he were memorizing her lips. She responded with equal passion, letting the kiss deepen.

His hand brushed her cheek softly, and she leaned into his touch, the warmth of her body radiating against his own. The world seemed to fall away, with only the stars as witnesses to this stolen moment.

Then, out of nowhere, there was a beep. His watch. Reality breaking through like a crash, jarring, pulling them apart.

“Sorry,” Mark murmured against her lips, his voice low and raspy.

Emily smiled, a flicker of nerves and something new in her eyes as she gently pulled back. “Hate that thing.”

“I’ll get rid of it.” He ran a hand through his hair, the same hand that had been on her back a moment ago. “But maybe we should call it a night. We have more to do for the inspection.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” She stood, leaving him to feel suddenly cold in the absence of her warmth. “It’s late anyway.”

As they walked to their bikes, the silence wasn’t awkward, but it was thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. Emily mounted her motorcycle, glancing over at Mark, who was watching her with barely checked desire.

“Drive safe,” he told her with a smile.

“You too.” She kicked the engine to life, the rumble vibrating between them.

As she pulled away, Mark couldn't help but replay the kiss in his mind, each detail vivid and electrifying. The way her lips had felt on his seemed to burn a permanent imprinton his senses. He felt both thrilled and terrified. What did this mean for tomorrow? For the shop? For them? He didn’t know, but he was willing to do whatever it took to find out.

Even before hehit the lights, Mark knew from the whispers he’d heard at J, that someone had seen Mark and Emily kissing at the overlook. He knew that people had been talking since the sun came up and that it was only a matter of time before Emily found out. By the time he opened the door for shipments, locals were passing by looking in the window, hoping to catch sight of the rumored new couple.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, a reminder of the warning he’d gotten from a friend that morning. People were talking, saying things they had no business saying. Mark hoped it would blow over, hoped he could somehow keep it separate. Professional. He ran a hand through his hair, wondering if that kiss would cost more than he thought.

By the time the first orders came in, he could feel the pressure like a too-tight shirt. Everyone’s eyes were on him. Or worse, on the door, waiting for her to arrive.

When Emily walked in, the room seemed to hold its breath. She looked different, though Mark couldn’t say why. Maybe he was the one who’d changed. Maybe he saw too much of her now. Or maybe he saw what the others saw—how smitten he was with her—and didn't like it one bit.

Her head was high, but her eyes told another story. The whispers turned to full-on stares, delivery workers and staff both. Everyone seemed to know, and they were judging.This wasn’t just a small town. It was a fishbowl, and they were right in the center.

“Morning,” he said, trying for casual. His voice came out stiffer than he wanted.

Emily shot him a glance, then focused on tying her apron. “Morning.”

Mark felt the shift, the energy changing like the charge before a storm. He knew how to handle storms, or thought he knew, but this felt different. Like trouble was just around the corner, and he couldn’t stop it.

A group of women, all sharp eyes with louder-than-they-thought voices, watched them through the window. He caught pieces of their conversation. Fraternizing. Pleasure at the expense of business. Inappropriate.

Then Birdie swooped in, silver hair and a wide smile, chatting up the girls like it was an Olympic sport. “I hear she likes to travel,” the older woman said, conspiratorial. “Not the kind to settle. He should know better.”

Emily’s face tightened as she moved through the shop, taking orders and ignoring the looks. Mark felt a pang. Not guilt. Something else.

“I heard about you two last night,” Birdie yelled through the open door. “Hope you didn’t catch cold.”

Mark didn’t like what was going on but fought the urge to step in and make it worse. Emily could handle it. He had to trust that. Trust her. Trust himself.

Emily worked behind the counter, moving fast. She was focused but far away. The stares kept coming, relentless as Birdie. Mark tried to concentrate on preparing for the inspection, on anything but Emily and the way the whole room seemed to orbit around her.

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