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“Rory! You’re going to call your dad back, or worse yet, someone is going to think I’m actually trying to eat you!”
Burying her face in my chest, she started crying. “I feel ants on me, and I think a bird pooped in my hair! Pigeons hate me, Finn. They always have!” she sobbed.
Laughing, I picked up the pace, leaving the ants and the pigeons behind with the peanuts.
My chest squeezed as she sobbed into my neck, holding on to me like I was the only thing that could protect her. I cherished every second of it. “I promise I won’t let them get you.”
—
Rory slowly walked into the kitchen and flashed me a shy smile.
“I think I got all the ants off me.”
I lifted a brow. “Bird poop?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t see any.”
Her body shuddered.
“So what was that all about back there? The whole pigeons-hate-me thing.”
Her face turned white, and I really had to work hard at not laughing. “They do. All birds hate me. It’s like I have some weird energy field that they don’t like. They tend to leave me alone, but if I have any food in my hand they are all over me trying to take what’s theirs. It all started when I was five. All I wanted to do was feed the pigeons some bread. They swarmed me and separated me from my mom. I was pretty sure if there had been enough of them they would have picked me up and taken me back to their lair.”
I chuckled. “I believe that’s where dragons live.”
“Well, they would have taken me to wherever pigeons live and lived off my flesh for days.”
Was it possible to fall even harder for this woman?
Sitting down at the counter, she rested her hand on her chin. “So. Is our date over?”
“Do you want it to be over?”
Her teeth sunk into her lip. “No.”
“Then it’s not. How do you feel about roller skating?”
She laughed and then looked at me with a serious face. “Wait. You’re serious?”
“Hell yes I’m serious.”
With a half shrug, she answered, “Well, I haven’t done it since I was probably ten or so. I probably forgot how.”
Making my way over to her, I lifted her off the stool and brought her flush against my body.
“It’s like riding a bike, baby. Once you’ve done it, you pick it right back up.”
I watched as she swallowed hard. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not talking about skating anymore?”
Smiling, I leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose. “Let me put Flash in his crate and we’ll leave.”
My phone started ringing as we made our way out the door. Turning once more to Flash, I pointed to him and said, “Behave, beast!”
He barked from his crate, circled twice, and lay down while I pulled my phone out and closed the door behind Rory and me.
“It’s Preston,” I stated. “Hey, man, what’s up?”
“It’s time.”
