Rory: Hope City, Book 7 by Maryann Jordan (golden son ebook TXT) 📗

door, not ensure her safety and stay while she cleaned up. Incredulity speared through her at the knowledge that he’d fed her cat and made her a cup of tea.

But now, she had no idea what was causing his handsome face to contort with such a grimace. He appeared to be in distress, and she reached out to place her hand on his arm then hesitated, her hand dropping back to her side. “Rory… I don’t understand. What are you apologizing for?”

“I was an ass.”

Not expecting those words, she was unable to keep the bark of laughter from erupting. Her emotions from earlier were still churning, as was her stomach. Her body was still dealing with the aftereffects of the adrenaline rush and subsequent fainting. The absurdity of the situation was overwhelming, and laughter continued to pour forth. Tears streamed down her face as she doubled over, one hand holding onto the counter and the other one clutching her stomach. “I’m sorry… I can’t help it.”

Barely able to catch her breath, she looked up and watched Rory’s expression morph from remorse to surprise to laughter. For a long moment, the two of them stood in her kitchen allowing the cleansing relief of shared mirth to flow over them.

As she finally gained control of herself, she shook her head. “I know what I was laughing about, but what had you going?”

“You. When you smile you can light up a room, but damn, Sandy, when you laugh like that, you make everyone want to laugh along with you.”

She held his gaze and viewed nothing but sincerity. “I think that might be one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.” Cocking her head to the side, she asked, “But was that one of your lines? And if so, why use it on me?”

Shaking his head slowly back and forth, he stepped closer. “That was no line. That was straight from me to you.”

They remained silent for a moment, each staring into the other’s eyes as though weighing the unspoken words. “Wow,” she breathed. “I’m not sure what to do with that.”

“Can we talk? We could… um… order some food and sit for a while. Just talk… if you feel up to it?”

Uncertain as to what he wanted to talk about, he was being so nice, she didn’t want to fight. “I still feel a little queasy, so I think I’ll pass on ordering some food.” She turned and opened the refrigerator door, peering inside. “If you’re okay with eating light, I can fix a tray of deli meats and cheese, some grapes and apple slices, and crackers.”

When he didn’t respond, she twisted around and looked over her shoulder, finding him staring at her. Standing, her body still in front of the open refrigerator, she asked, “We can order something for you if you’d like.”

Jerking, he shook his head quickly. “No, no, what you suggested is fine. I’m just surprised that you're letting me stay. Letting me talk. It seems more than I deserve.”

She sucked in her lips and pressed them tightly, her mind in turmoil. “My grandmother used to say that a lady always accepts someone’s heartfelt apology. Granted, I’m not quite sure what the apology is for, but that’s why we can talk.” She turned back to the refrigerator and began pulling out food items. Soon, the two of them stood side-by-side, filling a large platter with a variety of finger foods.

She picked up her cup of tea and the water he asked for and led the way into the living room as he carried the tray. Sitting on the sofa, she sat in one corner, her legs crisscrossed as she faced him. For several minutes, they munched on the food, letting the silence peacefully settle over the room. Ocee meowed loudly, breaking the spell.

Rory looked down and fussed at the interrupting feline. “Don’t tell her lies. I did feed you.”

A crooked smile spread across Sandy’s face, and she waved her hand dismissively. “I believe you, but Ocee loves attention.” She patted the cushion beside her, and the cat jumped up and curled into a tight ball next to her leg.

After eating her fill, glad that her stomach was less queasy, she sipped on her tea and looked toward Rory. Sitting on the other side of the sofa facing her, their eyes met. “So, um… you wanted to talk?”

“I did. I mean, I do. It’s just that this is nice. Sitting here like this.” Her brow crinkled as he struggled to get his thoughts together. Finally, he sighed heavily, glancing around her home. “I like what you’ve done here. It seems inviting… homey.”

“And that surprises you.”

His gaze snapped back to hers. “Yeah, when I first saw it, it did. Now, it just seems like you.”

“Does this have anything to do with your apology?”

He set his water bottle on the coffee table, leaned back, and scrubbed his hand over his face, nodding slowly. “Yeah, actually it does. I was really interested in getting to know you better when we first met. I probably made that pretty obvious. And it seemed like you were interested, too.”

If he was expecting her to agree or make the conversation easy on him, he was going to be disappointed. Her grandmother might have insisted she accept an apology, but she was not above making him work for it. Continuing to sip her tea, she remained silent.

“I let other things get in the way. Some of it probably necessary. Other things were me just being stupid.”

She leaned forward and set her cup on the coffee table before pinning him with a hard stare. “Rory, I get that you’re trying to tell me something, but you’re also talking all around the subject. It would be a lot easier if you’d just speak plainly.”

He chuckled deeply, and she wished the sound didn’t affect her quite so much.

“You’re right. I guess I’m just embarrassed and so it’s easier to beat around the bush. So, here goes. I listened to