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They finished eating in companionable silence. Afterward, they made drinks at the beverage bar and settled back at the small table. Tendrils of steam from Vi’s hot tea wrapped around Rory, the fruity fragrance soothing his mind’s frantic pace. A twilight sky gleamed from the frosted window.
Rory took a swallow of coffee, surprised to be so content. His never-ending task list vanished. He only wanted to revel in this moment with Vi. Well, maybe not all he wanted. He was dying to find out if the kiss they shared in the hospital had been a fluke. She seemed to enjoy it. He sat up straighter. Her attraction to him seemed obvious. If only he knew the reason she kept pushing him away.
“So, tell me about the fork in the road.” Vi fiddled with her tea bag.
Wishes and unanswered questions aside, Rory focused on the remodel. “The finishing part of any house takes the longest. We can go one of two ways. We can visit a design center in San Antonio. It’s a place where you can make most of the finishing decisions in one fell swoop. I know the folks there and have used their services. They’ll do right by you and won’t stop until you’re satisfied, but we’d need to go this week. The other option means you shop here in Valiant and choose as needed.”
A knuckle pressed against one cheek, Vi considered the options. She asked a few questions to clarify, listening carefully as he answered. Faint horizontal creases lined her forehead. “Will you be mad if I don’t want to use the design center?”
Rory’s brows jutted upward. This woman continually surprised him. He’d been certain she’d want to take advantage of the one-stop shopping the design center afforded. “If local is your thing, I’m good with it.”
She shifted in her chair, clearly uncomfortable. “This is my first time to make these decisions, and I won’t do it again for a long time. I’d prefer to take it step-by-step and savor the experience. Have fun with it, instead of a big rush. And since I’m in the process of being the owner of one pet instead of several, Paige won’t mind if it takes longer.”
Vi’s logic poured oil over Rory’s weary soul. He dealt with the ins and outs of construction daily. Maybe his attitude had become a tad jaded. Her pure, untainted outlook recreated the wonder of a new home. Even if the structure had pre-existed, the changes they planned would create a totally different place. He reached for her hand and cradled it between his. “I appreciate your approach, Vi. It’s refreshing. If you need help with choices, I’m right here.”
In the dim lighting, her lips twisted to one side. “Good grief, Rory. What do I know about picking out doorknobs or bathroom faucets?” An endearing little giggle escaped, spiking his adrenaline. “I’m countin’ on you, bud.”
She wiggled her fingers through one of his hands. “Deal?”
The scent of her hair floated toward him. Rory would forever associate the sweet floral aroma with her. She used no wiles, no entrapments, yet her raw authenticity intoxicated him.
How on earth could he handle the heady mix of sweetness and fire? Her words came back to him. Step-by-step and savor the experience.
Rory gripped her hand, even as his soul quaked. “Deal.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Silas’s cramped signature curled across the time slot. Her onetime walking buddy signed up for a massage? Vi stared at the schedule book, then blew out a lengthy exhale. She should have had a text about this hours ago. Discovering an appointment on the books she hadn’t known about messed with her day. Must be a new person at the front desk.
Vi’s hands tingled as she focused on this latest twist. Silas didn’t seem the type to have the wrong idea about an MT’s job. Curtis’s awful behavior was causing her to overreact. Guarding against unprofessional overtures remained her least favorite part of the job. Vi would keep it light and ask when Silas wanted to pick up the cats.
Still wearing the boot, Vi settled for a sedate stroll to the massage room, then changed sheets on the table. The front had blown in as predicted. Temps were cold enough for snowmen, warm fires, and hot chocolate. Mm.
Vi stepped into the small reception area. Silas sat in the chair she’d come to think of as Rory’s. “Hey, bud.” She stuck out her hand.
He gripped it loosely. “I’ve heard about your hands. Thought I’d check ’em out.”
Silas’s shaggy honey-blond hair needed a trim. His hazel eyes had lightened under the fluorescent lighting. Not tall, his frame bent toward the wiry side. He never said much and kept to himself.
Vi pointed to the room and explained the procedure. “I’ll check your paperwork and return shortly.”
Minutes later, she re-entered the low-lit room and set the playlist to soothing water and rain sounds. Once the atmosphere suited her, she explained how the massage would proceed. Silas’s silence didn’t affect her. Many of her clients gave no sign they’d heard the spiel.
Vi’s hands glided across his shoulders, kneading the taut muscles. Her fingers discovered several pitted scars. Artillery wounds? Shrapnel? His skin resembled leather. Stiff at first, he slowly unwound under the pressure of her hands.
Satisfied he’d relaxed, Vi allowed happy images of Cyrus to fill her mind. The dog seemed to enjoy the lake outings as much as she did.
Silas jerked under her hands with a moan.
Her fingers stopped on the sensitive trigger point. “You need me to back off?”
“No.”
“If I continue, the sore spot will loosen up and your back will feel much better when I’m done.” She applied incremental pressure until the tightness melted.
When Vi finished, she gave Silas exit instructions. She took his groggy moan as proof he’d heard, then she left the room. A small half-smile formed as she looked forward to another blissful afternoon with Cyrus. The giant dog had utterly stolen her heart. He grew more familiar with her every day, and his misery had vanished. They’d needed the uninterrupted quiet times together. Vi wondered who was healing who. Grieving her dad’s absence had dissipated into far more manageable levels.
She’d have to tell Rory about Cyrus’s latest antic with the goose. Her phone vibrated. Mother. Glancing at the screen, Vi held in a sigh. She’d call later and tell her about Cyrus—omitting the part about the dog providing protection. Any hint of trouble would send Mom to Valiant faster than a snake after a chicken. Her appearance at the hospital proved it. A corner of Vi’s mouth turned up. Granted, the kiss with Rory should never have happened. Given the circumstances, finishing the kiss would have been a lot more fun than listening to Mom fuss.
