Every Little Thing (Hart's Boardwalk 2)

I nodded, even though I dreaded the idea of being alone with my thoughts.

The da

y was overcast so I half expected it to downpour, but I held out hope as I wandered from boutique to boutique on Main Street, attempting to relax as Aydan suggested.

Problem was I wasn’t much of a shopper. There was also the matter of my thoughts; my thoughts that kept wandering to all the crap in my life that I didn’t want to deal with. I’d been so focused on keeping my mind on work that I hadn’t really spoken to Jess and the girls. We’d checked in about wedding stuff but we hadn’t had a long, meaningful conversation in which I revealed how close to the ledge I was so they could talk me off it.

When the heavens broke and thunder clapped in the skies tourists rushed for cover into restaurants, shops, and hotels, and I hurried down the slick boards to Emery’s.

Her place was busier than I’d hoped, beachgoers having rushed inside to shelter from the weather. Emery looked a little flustered so I joined her behind the counter. “Can I help?”

She nodded gratefully, and while she dealt with coffee, I quickly got a grip on her cash register.

When the line was dealt with and everyone seemed settled in the sitting area of the bookstore Em turned to me and handed me a dish towel. “Not that I’m not glad to see you but what are you doing here?”

I dried the ends of my long hair with the towel. “Aydan made me take a day off.”

“You have been working really hard lately. What’s going on?”

I glanced around to make sure we had privacy. “I’m a little low right now. I just . . . sometimes I can’t believe this is my life at thirty-four. I always thought I’d have it all by now, you know?”

“And Vaughn? Has he finally admitted he cares about you?”

I shook my head. Over the last few weeks, with no contact from him whatsoever, I’d started to grow angrier, more frustrated by him. Any trust that might have existed between us, however small, had been obliterated by the daily turmoil I felt over my unrequited—

No, it wasn’t love. I didn’t know him well enough to truly be in love with him.

But I still felt something. Something undeniable.

And very painful.

“He’s too closed off, Em. I need someone who trusts me. Someone who will let his guard down with me. And he won’t because . . . I’m not the kind of woman he’ll ever let his guard down with. I’m not the right kind of woman.”

“Or maybe he hasn’t let his guard down with you because you haven’t let your guard down with him?”

“Of course I have. I slept with him.” I wrinkled my nose. “Plus, I’m Bailey Hartwell. I don’t even have a guard, let alone one that’s up.”

She laughed. “In general, no, you don’t. But . . . the way you’re running from him isn’t like you.”

“What? Being smart isn’t like me?”

“Well—” Whatever Emery might have said was forgotten when the bell above her door jangled and Jack Devlin walked into the store. Emery’s face turned the deepest shade of scarlet I’d ever seen it turn.

Her reaction might have had something to do with the way Jack’s gaze zeroed in on her as soon as he stepped inside the building.

I waited for Em to greet him but I could see her throat working, like she was struggling to get the words out.

Dear God.

Did Em have a crush on Jack Devlin?

“Hey, Jack.” I saved her.

He reluctantly dragged his gaze from her to me. “Bailey.”

“How’s the fist?” I grinned.

To my delight I saw the corners of his mouth twitch, like he was fighting a smile. “It’s fine.”