No White Knight

“Yeah, but look at the other side,” he says. “More people noticing the Potter place. Maybe hiring out for lessons or rentals, so she gets a bigger steady income and doesn’t fall back in the hole.”

He’s got a point.

Too bad emotions and common sense don’t get along too well.

I’ll try again, though.

There’s got to be some way to work through this.

Because Libby’s not the only one who stands to lose everything right now.

“Hey,” Blake says, kicking me under the table, just enough to get my attention. “No moping on my watch. C’mon. You finished The Menagerie today, right? This is a celebratory beer.”

“Sorry,” I say with a dry smile. “Head stuck in the business.”

“It’s creeping me out, honestly.” He smirks. “Where the hell’s Mr. Playboy? You’re always thinking about supplies and invoices and construction codes…must be a lot of lonely beds in Heart’s Edge lately.”

I snort. “Not you, too. Does everyone think I’m still the biggest man-whore in town?”

“Honest answer or nice answer?” Blake looks at me with his dark-blue eyes twinkling.

“Honest answer.”

Blake’s smirk widens into a grin. “Yyyep.”

“Goddammit!”

“Don’t sweat it, bro.” He’s enjoying this. I can tell. But he’s also sincere when he says, “Look, I was surprised as hell when you said you wanted to stay here. But look now—you fit right in. Fixing up the town and all, helping Doc and Ember back up and running. We’re getting along like gangbusters. Andrea loves you. You ain’t doing half bad, Holt. If people wanna gossip about you and the ladies, well…keeps ’em from getting bored. And as long as you got your reputation, you can always get laid. Bet a whole pack of girls want to know what the fuss is all about.”

Shame I’m not interested in just getting laid anymore.

New York City took care of that.

My mind tries to push an image of angry blue eyes in front of me, but I shove it away just as hard.

Nope.

Fuck no.

Mixing business with pleasure already screwed me over once.

I’m not messing with that ever again.

So I’m happy to change the subject, talking about how my niece is doing in school, that punk Clark she’s still hung up on, Blake’s new marriage to his cute little hippie girl, how things have finally quieted down.

Blake says he might even come help out on my crew just to keep busy. In between keeping an eye out for brush fire season to kick into high gear, of course.

Everything else is always a side gig for the town’s fire chief.

But as we talk, my gaze roves over the bar.

I don’t recognize a lot of the new faces here. I’ve been away for a good long while.

Some people have grown up and look so different they’re like strangers. Others are just people who moved to Heart’s Edge for whatever reasons, or folks who stayed here as leftovers once Galentron skipped town.

It’s not the same place I grew up in.

But one guy in particular catches my eye.

I don’t know him from Adam, but there’s something about him that just looks out of place.

He’s stiff, wearing a waistcoat and tie in a bar like Brody’s, his suit coat draped on a barstool next to him and his slacks so neatly creased they could cut.

Not one strand of black hair is out of place, his face smooth and empty with a brooding touch to it.

The biggest red flag? He’s drinking alone.

Everyone else is on their third to fifth beer of the night, but this guy’s got wine.

Wine—at Brody’s.

“Blake.” I cut off his rant about people being stupid with their propane grills every summer and jerk my chin toward the guy. “Who’s that? Never seen him around.”

“Huh?” Blake cranes to peer over his shoulder, blinking slowly from his buzz. “Oh, him. Can’t remember the name, but he works at the new bank. Y’know, Confederated something or other? They’re buying all sorts of shit around town. Saw him talking to somebody on the council outside that old theater that burned a while back.”

Interesting. My hand tightens on my mug.

As far as I know, there’s only one man from Confederated Bank buying out properties in Heart’s Edge. That cold-eyed Declan fuck I’d met with Sierra.

Maybe Confederated Bank is hiring since it’s new.

Maybe.

Something about it just weirds me out, though.

I can’t really dwell on it too long, and it’s only halfway my business because I’m making it my business.

Blake starts blabbing away, I have another beer, and time blurs by while we talk and wait for the buzz to die down so we can drive.

Soon, it’s time to hit the hay.

I clap my brother on the shoulder as I stand and head for the exit, only to pause as he calls out to me.

“Holt, wait,” he says. “The guest bedroom is still open if you ever want something fancier than the inn.”

I smirk. “What, you mean ever since your wife moved into your bed?”