She went super still. "What's there to talk about? Like you said before, we should just ignore him."
"Are you sure? Because that guy's been sniffing around town all week, asking questions. And every time his name comes up, you look like you want to run."
"I just don't like him being in town.” Her tone sounded defensive. “He twists everything around just so he can get good ratings."
I sat up, gently moving her so I could look at her head-on. "Hey. Look at me."
Reluctantly, she met my eyes. What I saw there made my chest ache—guilt and fear and something that looked almost like grief.
"Whatever you're worried about, we can handle it," I said. "Together. But you have to talk to me. We can't go back to keeping secrets from each other."
For a moment, I thought she might open up. Her lips parted like she was about to say something important. But then she shook her head and forced a smile. "There's nothing to worry about. I promise."
It was a lie. I could see it in the way her eyes wouldn't quite meet mine, in the tension that had crept into her shoulders. But I didn't push. Maybe I should have, but I was too afraid of scaring her away when we were just finding our way back to each other.
So, I kissed her forehead and tried to ignore the knot tightening in my gut. "Okay. But you know you can tell me anything, right?"
"I know."
The rest of the morning passed. We made coffee together in my kitchen, Sabrina stealing pieces of the bacon I was frying while I pretended not to notice. She wore one of my flannel shirts over her underwear, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and looked so much like she belonged there that my chest ached with how right it all was.
But even as we laughed and teased each other, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were playing house, pretending everything was fine when something fundamental was wrong.
When she left for work, I stood on the porch watching her truck disappear down the drive. The morning was crisp and clear, the kind of fall day that usually made me want to grab my hiking gear and disappear into the mountains for a few hours. Instead, I thought about the careful way Sabrina had avoided my eyes when she said goodbye, and the quick kiss that felt more like an apology than affection.
I stopped in at the Hard & Handy and spent the rest of the day at the Inn, putting finishing touches on the wedding preparations. The photographer's assistant had arrived the day before and wanted to test different lighting setups, which meant moving half the furniture around and then moving it back. By the time I was done, my back ached and my patience was shot.
But the physical work gave me time to think, and the more I thought, the more convinced I was that Sabrina was hiding something big.
Nico had been making the rounds all week, interviewing locals he hadn’t talked to yet about the Ex-List and the upcoming wedding. I'd managed to avoid him so far, but I'd heard he was particularly interested in talking to anyone who knew the "real story" behind the list. A few people had mentioned seeing him at Morning Wood, chatting with customers, asking casual questions that probably weren't casual at all.
What if he'd pressured Sabrina somehow? What if he knew something that could hurt her, or the coffee shop, or both?
The thought had my hands clench tight around the hammer I was holding. If that bastard was threatening her in any way?—
"Easy there, tiger." Aunt Marla's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. "That poor nail never did anything to you."
I looked down to find I'd been hammering the same spot for the better part of a minute, driving the nail so deep into the wood it had disappeared entirely.
“I’m just focused," I muttered, setting the hammer aside.
"Focused on demolishing my deck, maybe." She studied my face with an expression that meant she was about to start meddling. "What's bothering you?"
"Nothing. I just want to get this finished in plenty of time before the wedding."
"Uh-huh." She didn't sound convinced. "This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain coffee shop owner who's been looking stressed out all week, would it?"
I should have known Marla would notice. Nothing happened in Hard Timber without her hearing about it, and she'd always had a soft spot for Sabrina.
"She's fine," I said.
"Is she? Because Nellie mentioned she's been as jumpy as a cat in a thunderstorm. And that podcaster fellow was asking an awful lot of questions about her the other day."
The knot in my stomach tightened. "What kind of questions?"
"Oh, you know. How long she's lived here, what she was like growing up, whether she knew anything about how that Ex-List got started." Marla's eyes sharpened. "Seemed mighty interested in her connection to you, too."
Fuck. I'd known this was coming, but I'd hoped the bastard would give up and move on to easier targets. "What did you tell him?"
