Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
RORY
What kind of woman had I turned into? Hiding and ducking out of obligations simply as a means of avoidance. I did not avoid. I faced shit head on and dealt with whatever needed dealing with, and then I moved on.
Or…at least I did with all things excepting Nash King.
It’d been nearly two weeks since the infamous cock fiasco and subsequent kiss, and I’d managed to avoid another run-in with him. My cheeks heated at the memory of the incident. How his naked chest had felt under my questing hands. How he’d groaned into my mouth the moment our tongues had touched. How he’d clutched me to him as if he’d needed me even closer. How thick and hard he’d felt against me.
That was just about enough of that. My naughty imagination was what had gotten me into this mess in the first place.
I shook those thoughts from my head and read Nash’s latest text.
Nash:
Never took you for a coward.
The twelve before had all been some variation of, Are you bailing on me ?
Bailing? No. I wasn’t bailing. When I gave my word, I meant it. And despite having agreed to this arrangement with Nash by basically playing chicken with Mac, it was the smart thing to do.
If I had any hope of spending my days doing something other than working for my daddy, I needed to go after this dream that had lain dormant for way too long. And working beside Nash, building up my portfolio, was exactly how I was going to do it.
I just… Well, I just needed to get my damn hormones under control so I could be in the same vicinity as him and not be tempted to jump his bones. Again.
I blew out a deep breath, typed out a reply, and hit send.
Rory:
Nothing cowardly about spending the day with Gran. Work will have to wait.
With a smile, I dropped my phone into my purse. See? That bought me another day. And I wasn’t lying—Gran and I were going out today. Never mind that I had just shown up unannounced and insisted on a lunch date with the woman. Tomorrow, I’d be at town hall, so no excuse needed.
“Ready, Gran?” I asked.
Gran huffed, clutching her purse in her lap, her seat belt already buckled. “I’ve been ready since you yanked me outta my rocker and demanded we go to lunch.” She sniffed, tipping up her nose. “I’m missin’ my stories for this, so you better make it worth my while. You’re just damn lucky my cheap bastard of a son finally signed up for that streaming service.”
I snorted. Gran was never one for mincing words, even when— especially when—it came to her son. “So sorry to pull you away from The Young and the Restless , but you can get all caught up on Victor’s latest scheme soon enough. Besides, wouldn’t you rather spend some quality time with your granddaughter?”
Gran hummed, shooting me a look out of the corner of her eye as I traversed the side streets toward our favorite lunch spot. “We have lunch once a week with the rest of the girls, and that’s it. You’ve never once changed that schedule, so don’t think I don’t know there’s some ulterior motive goin’ on here.”
My smile slipped from my face as I pulled into a parking space in front of the café in the Square. While, true, I had grabbed Gran so I wouldn’t be lying to Nash about keeping my distance, that wasn’t the only reason. Ever since I was little, my gran was the one person I could talk to about anything. And I hadn’t taken advantage of that nearly as much as I should’ve in the past several years. And the truth was, I could really use it. Especially now.
“Gran,” I said, reaching out and resting my fingers on the silky-soft skin of my grandma’s forearm. “I don’t want you to?—”
Gran cackled, her eyes alight with mischief. “Damn, Rory, you folded fast as a cheap lawn chair.” She patted my cheek a little harder than necessary. “You know I’m happy to get outta that house whenever I can. And I love spendin’ time with my granddaughters…even you,” she said with a wink.
“That wasn’t very nice.”
“Maybe not, but it sure was funny.”
I tried to hold back a smile, but one slipped over my face anyhow. “Yeah, you’re a real comedian. Come on, now. Let’s get in there before the croissants are all gone for the day.”
I stepped out of the car and waited for Gran in front of the café. Gran hooked her purse in her elbow, stepped onto the sidewalk, and…walked right past me.
“Gran,” I called, glancing back at the café door before hustling after my grandmother, who was already halfway down the block. “Don’t tell me your sight’s goin’ bad. The café’s back there.” I hooked a thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the quaint place the girls all went for lunch every week.
“I’m well aware of that, sugar. But the café doesn’t serve Bloody Marys.” With a grin tossed in my direction, Gran hefted open the door to The Willow Tree and stepped inside without another word.