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Laughter lurked in Paige’s melodic accent. “Aside from co-owning Peeps with Jesse and his dad, Rory is a contractor. If anyone in Valiant knows what to do and has the right contacts, it’s him. Want me to set up a meeting?”
CHAPTER FIVE
The aroma from the diffuser streamed a light lavender scent into the small, dim room. Vi used deep, kneading petrissage strokes to roll and release the knots on the upper back of a woman lying on the massage table. Sweet lady with neck and shoulder muscles that resembled the stretchy part of a straw. Vi could empathize. Her foot, encased in a walking boot all day, felt cramped. She longed to rub her aching instep.
Vi’s conscience smarted right along with the pain in her foot. She’d deliberately scheduled a last-minute massage over her appointment with Rory. A face-to-face meeting would be embarrassing, considering their kiss in the hospital. What a dreadful mistake. The client flinched, and Vi realized her fingers had tightened into weapons. “Sorry,” she murmured.
Stepping back, Vi slathered her hands with oil for one last round of circular stroking movements, forcing her mind away from a certain handsome redhead. When she finished, Vi bid the woman goodbye in a low unhurried voice, then slipped out the adjoining door to the women’s dressing room. Clients deserved an unrushed feeling to complete the massage experience. Vi couldn’t control what happened once they left—most of them trotted back to their stressful lives—but a restful hour of tension relief helped.
Vi glanced at the white bandages on her arms and grimaced. When Paige had filled in the gaps of what had happened on Thanksgiving Day, she’d not minced words. Rory saved your life. How did a person deal with that?
She moved to the sink and washed her hands carefully, drying every bit of excess moisture with paper towels. Germs remained an occupational hazard. She licked dry lips and headed back to change the massage table linens, beyond ready for this day to end. Her body ached as if someone knocked her stuffing loose.
The perky, upbeat music floating through the speakers signaled Peeps’ evening environment, making Vi more than ready to leave the energetic pace. A yoga class might soothe her weariness, but the mental picture of striking a warrior pose with the cumbersome boot eliminated the idea. Thankful her injuries never encompassed more than a sprained ankle and a few scrapes, she finished with the linens and trudged from the women’s dressing room.
Oh, no.
The absolute, no-holds-barred, last person on earth she wanted to see sat in the nearby waiting area. Rory thumbed through a magazine, one ankle crossed over a knee as if he had all the time in the world. Her face burned.
His gaze caught hers. He flicked the magazine aside and stood, then closed the short distance between them. His lips formed a no-nonsense line. “We had an appointment.”
“I had a massage.” Her insides cringed. Then, as if tattling on her half-truth, the infernal boot snagged on the carpet, and she stumbled.
Fast as a whip, Rory grasped her upper arms and steadied her. “No more tumbles, Vi.”
The compassionate words robbed Vi of her last defenses. “I’m sorry.” She choked out. To her dismay, her eyes filled. She sniffed, blinking back the tears.
Rory’s eyes softened, as if he recognized her exhaustion. He took her elbow gently. “The deli’s closed, but we can still talk in there.” Vi let him guide her across the lobby, since her steps compared to putty.
Was it wise to meet with him now? Probably most unwise. With Vi’s emotions running so high, no telling what she’d do or say. Her head turned toward the double doors leading to the parking lot. His grip firmed around her elbow as if he’d guessed her thoughts. As they walked lockstep across the carpeted area, Vi felt the slight hitch in his gait. The close way they covered ground, an onlooker would have assumed … She forced her mind away from the obvious conclusion. Her brain rattled with annoyance over the boot and questions about their non-relationship. But what about Rory? His lifestyle included a boot of sorts—forever.
He opened a deli side door most members didn’t know existed and led her to a table. The roll-down metal curtain kept them out of sight from the brightly lit lobby—Peeps’ public eye. He pulled out a chair for her, then took one across the table. Vi sank into the chair, relieved to be off her feet. Rory’s drawn features suggested he’d had a long, busy day. However, a steely determination still seeped through. She hadn’t noticed that attribute before. Pulling a tiny orange from a pocket of her scrubs, she stuck her thumb in the top and separated the peeling from the soft fruit.
The silence stretched. The dim room helped to shield Vi’s observation of him. Broad shoulders and muscled biceps pulled his white dress shirt taut. Brick-red hair spiked in wavy tufts. Firm jaw. Nice lips between mustache and beard. Don’t look at his lips, girl.
Rory shifted. “Vi.” His tone held no judgment.
Music sounded in the distance. Weights thudded and exercise machines clattered from upstairs. She had no idea what to say. Sorry I blew off our appointment? Sorry I got focused on my foot and forgot you lost one? Hey, loved the kiss. Can we do it again without Mother? Cheeks warm, she stared at the peeled orange in her hands, picking at the white membrane.
He cleared his throat. Even in the weak lighting, she could have sworn his eyes twinkled. “Um. Paige mentioned you’re looking to remodel a house and need consulting advice. Is that the gist of it?”
She nodded, unable to trust her voice. Rory made it sound so reasonable. The truth smacked her in the face. Her preconceived opinions of him were causing her to doubt his skill. Paige had made it abundantly clear Rory’s sharp business acumen rated a consult at the very least, though Vi had tried to forget the expansive list of adjectives that had flowed forth—Integrity. Professional to the bone. Excellent communicator. Yada, yada, yada … Would it be so terrible to ask him a few questions?
Transparency had never been easy for her, but if he could be determined, so could she. She looked him square in the eye. Oh, dear. Big mistake. “Sorry. Emotions have been getting the best of me lately. And I haven’t thanked you. Paige says you saved my life.”
When he didn’t answer, she rushed on, “Daddy left me a house and property. I haven’t known what to do with it.” His interested expression encouraged her to continue. “When I went to the house on Thanksgiving, um, before the bees …” She laughed shakily and set the orange atop the peelings in a neat pile. “I got the idea to remodel. I lived there as a child.” Good. She’d said it, even though she swiped at a tear.
Rory didn’t seem perturbed with her emotions leaking like a drippy faucet. “I heard about your dad’s passing a few months back. I’m sorry for your sake he’s gone.” His eyes shone with compassion. “We lost Mom when I was a teen. Don’t deny your emotions. Grief can be unpredictable. One minute you’re fine. Then, almost in the same breath, you’re crying and mad at the world.”
Vi’s brows raised. He’d described the rollercoaster she’d ridden the last few months with scary accuracy. “You’re on the other side,” she whispered around the lump in her throat.
He nodded. “The heartache will heal eventually. Doesn’t mean you won’t miss him. It’s been fourteen years, and I still miss Mom.” He paused a moment. “Vi, are you sure you’re ready to move forward with a project as extensive as a remodel? Fixing up your childhood home may prove more difficult than you think.”
The slender fingers of his hands clasped together easily, and he still didn’t appear in a hurry. Neither did he seem reluctant to help. He wanted to make certain the remodel path fit her needs. As if he cared not only in a professional sense but for her overall well-being. Wow. This perspective of Rory boggled her mind. A far cry from the flirty guy she’d kept at arm’s length. Even though he’d always been an integral part of their friend group, they’d never had a serious conversation. She’d been too busy avoiding him.
Rory continued as if he hadn’t shattered her preconceptions of him. “The remodel itself isn’t an issue. I know and use the best subcontractors in my line of work. I can help you through the bidding process for supplies and labor, guide you through the financials, and let you know what it will cost versus how much you want to spend. That’s the easy part.”
“What’s the hard part?” Vi’s hands twisted in her lap.
