Chapter Sixteen #2
Startled, Rory flinched but didn’t drop the candle he held in his hand. Strange how he didn’t recall picking it up. So much for mindfulness. He made a big show of looking around the store. “Old lady? Where?”
Hope swatted his arm playfully. “Charmer.” She stood up on her tiptoes so she could kiss his cheek, and Rory leaned toward her to make it easier. “Do you have time for lunch?”
Rory quirked a brow. “Why don’t you tell me since my presence in the yoga studio is something you and Harry cooked up together. Am I right?”
Hope batted her eyes innocently, but her impish grin ruined the effort. “Busted,” she admitted when it became clear Rory wasn’t falling for that act either. “Did you benefit from the class, though?”
He thought of the overall experience and her instruction.
The studio was bright and airy. There were groupings of plants and flowers throughout the space.
The wall mirrors allowed her students to check their form as they moved through the poses while making the room look bigger.
Hope had lit tranquil-smelling candles prior to class and softly played waves crashing against a shore during the lesson.
Rory had closed his eyes a few times and imagined himself doing the poses on the beach until he lost his footing and reality intruded.
As for Hope’s instruction, she was fantastic.
Her voice was low and melodic without being monotone or somniferous, and she displayed both her patience and sense of humor throughout the lesson.
Rory enjoyed the moments he’d spent in tune with his body and his sense of pride upon completing the session.
“I absolutely loved it,” he admitted. “I’m really grateful Harry conned me into coming to your class.”
Hope clapped her hands. “I’m so happy to hear that. Can I please treat you to lunch?”
“I don’t suppose you’d let me do the treating?” Rory asked.
“No way,” Hope said. “My kids are head over heels in love, and I don’t get to spoil them much anymore. Please let me have this little, tiny thing.” She held up her hand to show her thumb and forefinger an inch apart.
Rory released a heavy sigh. “Playing the mom card, huh? Fine. You can treat me to lunch this time. I’ll pick up the tab next time.” Rory set the candle down when he noticed the name of the product line on the promotional sign. “The Fuck All, huh?”
Hope laughed and picked up a pale pink candle. “Let’s just say I was feeling a certain way when I came up with the names for the candles.”
Smiling, he checked the name of the lilac-colored candle in his hand. “Zen as Fuck. What exactly does that even smell like?”
“One way to find out,” Hope suggested.
Rory pulled the silver lid off the top and lifted it to his nose. “Vanilla with a hint of lavender. Even I know lavender is a calming aroma.” He smelled it again. “I would’ve named it Calm the Fuck Down.”
“I’m making a mental note in case Zen doesn’t sell. Sometimes a simple rebranding can take something from no profit to a best seller.”
“So I’ve heard.” Rory replaced the lid and set the candle down to look at the pastel orange candle next to it called Positive as Fuck. He opened the lid and inhaled. “Oh, this smells like happiness in a jar. What’s in here?”
“Jasmine and orange blossom,” Hope said. She handed him the pale pink candle she’d named Focused as Fuck. “Peppermint.”
Rory sniffed the candle, impressed with the quality.
Too much peppermint smelled like toothpaste, but this one was refreshing.
He could see how it would inspire clarity and focus.
There was one last candle. It was ivory, and he expected something serene.
Rory read the name and jerked his gaze up to meet her mischievous gaze.
“Really?” She’d named the candle Ready to Fuck.
“It’s my favorite.”
“Fragrance?” Rory pressed.
One corner of Hope’s mouth curved up. “If you say so.”
Rory chuckled, pulled the lid off, and got a good whiff. “I recognize vanilla and sandalwood, but the third note is new to me.”
“Ylang ylang,” Hope replied. “Isn’t it dreamy?”
“Gorgeous.” He wasn’t sure what Ivan thought about candles, but he was about to find out. Rory replaced the lid and extended the candle to Hope. “I’m going to buy this one.” He could tell she was going to protest, but he cut her off. “I insist.”
“Fine. We’ll do the transaction after lunch.”
They locked up the shop and headed toward the diner.
He noticed that religious sect had picked up two more reporting crews at their protests.
He kept his head down as they walked past and refused to let their presence ruin his bliss.
Rory expected Harry to magically appear out of thin air now that the yoga session was over, but she still hadn’t joined them by the time they sat down.
They’d fixed a large breakfast for the crew, and he didn’t imagine he’d be hungry again until dinner, but his stomach growled as he read over the menu.
“I know damn well you eat good on the ranch.”
Rory laughed. “Too good. Another week and I’ll need to go up a pants size.” He expected Hope to laugh or comment. When she didn’t, Rory looked up to find her watching him. Was she like him and wondering if he’d still be there in another week? “What?”
Hope reached across the table, covered both Rory’s hands, and said, “I can tell something is bothering you, though you conceal it well behind that pretty smile. You don’t know me well enough to trust me yet, but you will. And I’m a damn good listener if you ever want to talk.”
“You’re wrong,” Rory said.
Hope rolled her eyes. “Don’t listen to whatever my husband said about my alleged selective hearing.
Tuning out one another’s nonsense is how we’ve stayed happily married.
I compare it to picking my battles and using a filter before I speak.
” Hope waggled her finger and said, “Yes, I have a filter. I just don’t use it as often as I should. ”
Rory laughed and shook his head. “I wasn’t referring to either of those things. You’re wrong about me not knowing you. I’ve spent enough time around your kids to know the person you are.”
Hope patted his hands and smiled. “That’s very sweet of you to say. Everything we discuss stays between you and me,” Hope told him.
Rory looked out the window while considering his options.
He could continue rehashing the same thoughts in his head over and over or he could talk to an intelligent, objective woman with incredible insight.
When framed like that, it was a simple decision.
Over lunch, he opened up to Hope in ways he never had before, not even with Ivan.
Something about Hope reminded him of his mother, even though they were nothing alike.
It was the way she leaned into the conversation and gave him her undivided attention.
She reached over and squeezed his hand. “Fear is a powerful thing, Rory. You’ll know the right time to have a conversation with your dad.
I hope he’s open to listening when you do approach him.
If not, that’s his problem and you should make peace with that.
” She released him to take a bite of banana pudding, and Rory did the same with his chocolate cream pie.
“I’ve got a spare bedroom with your name on it if you ever decide to move on from the ranch and need a place to stay. ”
“I appreciate you saying that, and I can’t thank you enough for letting me vent.” She waved him off with her fork before digging back into her dessert.
Rory forked up another bite of pie. It was rich, silky perfection with the perfect balance of chocolate and cream. He knew a certain conqueror who’d love to sink his fork into it. “Do they sell whole pies here?”
“They do,” Hope said with a smile.
They lingered over a second cup of coffee after the waitress took away their dirty dishes and Rory secured a pie for Ivan.
Harry was waiting for them back at the shop when they returned.
Hope lived up to her agreement and allowed Rory to buy the candle.
When she told him the amount due, he looked at her with narrowed eyes.
Twelve dollars? Had she slashed the price because he’d insisted on paying?
“Too much?” Hope asked.
“Too little,” Rory replied. “Three-wick candles like these sell for a lot more.”
“Told ya, Mama,” Harry chimed in.
Hope rolled her eyes at them. “I’m not trying to get rich. I just want to help people.”
She was another person Rory had found almost too good to be true.
He’d never been so glad to be wrong. He hugged her tightly when they parted and promised to attend her next Saturday class too.
As soon as he and Harry cleared her shop, Rory hooked his arm through Harry’s and said, “Thanks for setting me up. It was exactly what I needed.”
“I didn’t intend it when I suggested the pedicures,” Hope replied. “I could just tell you had a lot going on and could use a reset. My mama’s classes are excellent for that. I would’ve stayed too, but I wanted you to have some alone time with her. Hope has a way of seeing to the heart of an issue.”
“Yes, she does.” Rory glanced over and saw a display of suncatchers hanging in a shop window. One caught his eye and made him stop in his tracks. It reminded him of someone special, and he wanted to buy it for him. “Do you mind if I make a quick stop in there?”
Harry followed his line of sight and smiled when she saw the honeycomb suncatcher made from multiple shades of amber glass. “He’ll love it.”
By the time they arrived back at the ranch, it was almost time for poker night.
Ivan had volunteered to order food at breakfast, which had resulted in a round of boos.
Apparently, his menu lacked creativity. Finley had spoiled the guys away from the standard fare Ivan provided.
Harry and Rory had taken the baton from Finley the previous week and had driven the expectations even higher.
Cash took pity on everyone and said he’d arrange the food and would host poker night at the big ranch since it was getting pretty crowded at the old homestead.
“See you guys tonight,” Harry called out after they parked and exited her zippy red car.
“Whatcha got in that pie box, Rory?” Owen asked.
Hell-bent on getting to Ivan, Rory hadn’t even seen Owen and Tyler standing near the barn. “Nothing for you to worry about,” he quipped.
“Poker night is at the big ranch house,” Tyler called out when Rory continued toward the old homestead.
“I know.”
“Must be something incredible if he’s making a beeline straight for Ivan,” Owen said.
“Beeline,” Tyler replied. “I like what you did there.”
“I think we should get him,” Owen added.
Rory picked up the pace, even though there was no real threat in Owen’s voice. Gravel crunched under rapidly approaching boots, and Rory broke into a run toward the old homestead.
“What’s going on?” Rueben asked, though Rory wasn’t sure where he’d come from.
“Rory bought a special dessert for Ivan,” Tyler said. “Pretty sure I smell chocolate.”
“I want some,” Rue called out moments before another pair of boots joined the stampede.
Rory dug deep and churned his legs faster but worried they’d fail him after his yoga session.
“Ivan!” Rory shouted like a madman. “Help!”
The back door flew open moments later, and Ivan stepped out onto the porch. Relief washed over him, though Rory doubted very much that any of them would’ve stolen their foreman’s pie.
“What the hell is going on?” Ivan bellowed.
Rory didn’t spend any time trying to explain; he just kept his legs pumping. He didn’t take an easy breath until he darted up the porch steps and ran into Ivan’s open arms. “They’re trying to get your pie,” he managed between jagged pants. Fuck, he was really out of shape.
“What kind of pie?”
“Chocolate cream from the diner,” Rory panted out.
Ivan narrowed his eyes and took the box from Rory’s outstretched hand.
He flipped the lid open and hoisted the pie out of the box.
He didn’t quite strike the proud daddy lion pose from The Lion King, but it was very close.
The three men that had been chasing Rory like it was the last pie on earth skidded to a halt at the bottom of the stairs.
Owen placed a hand on the porch railing and panted. “You wouldn’t.”
Ivan quirked a brow. “Wouldn’t I?” He lowered his head to the pie and licked a stripe through the mound of cream while the three ruffians groaned in defeat.
“Licked it, so it’s mine.” Ivan looked at Rory with a wicked gleam in his eyes that made Rory’s heart race harder than it had during his mad sprint.
Ivan hooked his free arm around Rory’s waist and pulled him close.
Then he lowered his head and licked a path up Rory’s neck with a possessive growl that made his knees weak.
“Gross,” Owen teased. “You guys should stay home tonight and skip poker.”
Ivan looked from the pie to Rory and grinned wickedly. “Good idea.” He backed Rory through the door and tossed a, “Good night, fellas,” over his shoulder before closing it behind them.