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

her friends. And she enjoyed being around others. But intimacy with a man had been a struggle. Until him.

He thought back to the times he’d seen her at the Celtic Cock, sitting at the bar with her fingers wrapped around her glass, never realizing that it was her way of keeping tabs on her drink. She was so beautiful, with bright eyes and a friendly smile, naturally drawing men’s attention. Now that he thought back on it, she was never the pursuer. She was generally sitting at the bar, and men would flock to her.

Shame snuck through him as he thought about his sisters or the King girls. There’s nothing wrong with a woman having a drink in a bar, laughing and talking with people, enjoying herself. And there’s nothing wrong with a woman turning down a man for any reason. But oh, how the rumors can fly when a man feels like he was owed something just for having enjoyed being in her presence for a little while.

The shame that coursed through him grew, but as much as he wanted to be angry at some of the other men who talked about her being a tease, he had to face being angry at himself for having listened.

She shifted again as her body twitched slightly, and he hoped their conversation had not opened up nightmares to invade her dreams. With their naked bodies pressed together, he tucked the covers around her tightly to ensure she was warm and snug.

He knew he could not change the past, but as sleep began to claim him, he vowed to change her future.

Sleep had only claimed him for a few hours before he found it hard to breathe. Opening his eyes, he stared into the scraggly face of Ocee standing on his stomach. As Sandy turned over and snuggled her back into his front, the sight of a disapproving orange cat kept him from taking her from behind. Instead, he wanted her to keep sleeping, and after dislodging Ocee, he slipped from the bed, tucking the covers carefully around Sandy’s still-sleeping form.

Once downstairs, he poured food into the cat dish. “Here you go, buddy. If I keep feeding you, then you’ll approve of me, right?”

He scrounged around her kitchen to see what he could fix for breakfast. It didn’t take long for enough eggs, bacon, and jelly toast for both of them to be placed on the same platter she’d used the other night. She was just stirring as he walked into the bedroom. She blinked open her eyes, then widened them in surprise.

“Breakfast? In bed?”

He set the platter on the nightstand and bent to scoop his t-shirt from the previous night off the floor. Handing it to her, she pulled it on. He hated losing the sight of her topless but loved seeing her in his shirt. It might be a claiming statement, but he didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, she could wear his t-shirt anytime. He settled next to her on the bed as she pushed up and leaned against the pillows. “I thought you deserved some pampering.”

Her face softened as her warm gaze landed on him. “Oh, Rory, you didn’t have to do this.” She took a bite of a piece of bacon and grinned. “Although, this is good.”

He kissed her lightly, loving the smokey, salty taste of her lips. “Can I ask you something?”

“Honey, you can ask anything you want.”

He sucked in a deep breath, hesitated, then blurted, “Did you get counseling after what happened?”

Her gaze dropped to the plate of food resting on the bed between them. Her voice was small as she replied. “No.” She looked up at him and said, “Honey, really, I’m fine. I work. I enjoy my friends. I’m not some hermit afraid to go out into public. I’m good.”

“Babe, you almost shut down over what you witnessed at the Cock. I think that you’re a survivor and doing great, but I think that you could benefit from talking to a professional about the experience.”

She didn’t deny his suggestion but held his gaze for a long moment. “Harper used to beg me to see someone. I just didn’t want anyone else to know.”

“And now?”

Sighing heavily, she nodded slowly. “Seeing the other woman… it did bring back memories.” She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and shuddered. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should.”

He leaned forward and kissed her again. “I think that’s a great idea. And if you want support, I’ll be right there with you.”

“Just having you here is all I could need,” she said, smiling.

His gaze dropped to her crooked smile beaming at him, and he decided he’d do whatever he could to keep that smile on her face.

19

Sixty-two-D-one. Sixty-five-D-one. Fifty-eight-B-two.

Jumping into the ambulance, Rory pulled out of the station after the ladder truck. Shania checked the GPS and radioed their ETA.

“Police are at an apartment building on Sanderson and Thirty-First Street. There’s a report of a small child alone on a third-floor balcony.”

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath. “Where are the parents?”

“Your momma keep up with you every second of the day? You and that big-ass family?” she asked. “Hell, I’m not making excuses, but I’m telling you kids can get in weird-ass predicaments in the blink of an eye.” She sighed. “God, I hope this isn’t a neglect case. I hate those. They pull at my heart.”

He tossed his tough-as-nails partner a sympathetic gaze before carefully moving through an intersection. She was right. With six kids in his family and five in the King family next door, the eleven kids were hardly watched every second of the day. Probably why Sean and Tara are so responsible. They had to be.

“Oh, Christ.” He parked just behind one of the police vehicles, his gaze sweeping the scene. A multi-storied brick apartment building filled the entire city block. The outside was dotted with small, metal-railed balconies. Upon closer examination, he could see they were more of a place to set a plant,