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“I get it. My dad and I were close too when I left.” My poor dad. I know he was so proud when I went off to Cambridge. But that meant there’d be an ocean between us. He put on a brave face as long as he could.
Until he couldn’t anymore.
“But you came back,” Rory says.
I am suddenly very aware of how close we are, split only by the threshold of my front door, having a conversation meant only for us. “Yeah, I had to.”
“Cause of the…” His gaze follows the steps behind me. “You’re a good daughter for that.”
“It’s just what you do.”
Rory licks his lower lip, leaving it a glossy ruby color. “So what do you say?”
My head is muddled from looking at him. The sharp line of his cheekbone, the unshaven scruff on his face that must be purposeful, given how even and well-kept it is. That ring of amber around his pupils.
“Do we have a deal?” he clarifies.
I blink, resetting my brain. He came here because he wants something I have. And I guess he has something I want, too. I just got the wires crossed on what that might be for a moment. Unusual for me would be an understatement. “Um. Yes. Yes we have a deal.”
Rory’s seriousness dissipates, exchanged for a wide smile. “Really?”
I nod. “Yes, yeah, I’ll help you, if you promise I’ll have the bones for the Bicentennial.”
He sticks his hand out toward me. “You have my word.”
We didn’t shake hands when we first met. That might have been because I was under duress. Or maybe I had an inkling I wouldn’t be able to handle touching him without getting caught up in his charisma.
Just a handshake, Constance. Not a deal with the devil.
I give him a firm shake, ignoring the electric pulses that thrum through my forearm from his warm palm. “Fine. Deal.”
Rory smiles through pinched lip, eyes crinkling at the corners.
Why is my heartbeat skyrocketing?
“I’d like to get started as soon as we can,” he says, dropping my hand.
“Then you can meet me tomorrow morning at Brewed Perfection. I get there at eight-oh-three every morning.”
Rory’s head bounces backward slightly. “Eight-oh-three?”
I nod. “Yes. Unless I get stopped by a train. Then that throws off my whole morning timeline.” Thankfully, my drives are usually perfectly timed with the Union Pacific schedule.
He shakes his head. “You’re something else, Dr. Chaplin, you know that?”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” I say, though I have a sinking suspicion it’s not a good thing.
“It’s a compliment,” he says earnestly. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from audibly gasping. That would be unnecessary and embarrassing. Let him know he’s taken me off-guard, and I’m afraid if he knew that, he’d have an upper hand.
“Anyway, I’m sorry to have disturbed you while you were asleep,” Rory says, eyes flicking to my forehead.
I touch my forehead.My eye mask.I slid it up before I came down here. Should have just removed the stupid thing.
He starts down the front steps, calling over his shoulder with an easy smile, “Looking forward to working with you, Dr. Chaplin.”
I work the inside of my lip with anxious hesitation until Rory is about to get into his car. “You can call me Chaplin. If you like.”
