Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
THEO
Rupert thumbs through one of many pamphlets he picked up when he was at the general store grabbing us some groceries. “You know, it’s peak whale-watching season. We should book a tour. I wouldn’t mind getting blown by a whale.”
I look up from where I’m journaling. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You know, blown.”
“Uh, I don’t know, because you’re making it seem like you’re saying you want your dick to be sucked by a whale, and I understand that you think highly of yourself, but no whale will want the crumb that’s your dick compared to their size.”
“Why are you so fucking disgusting?” he asks me, looking truly insulted.
“Me?” I point to myself, using my pen. “Why are you disgusting? You’re the one saying you want to be blown by a whale.”
“From their blow spout thing. Like I want them shooting water in my face from the inner depths of their bodies.”
“Then fucking say that.”
“I did. I said I want to be blown by a whale.”
I shake my head. “Choose different words, mate.”
“I said it the way I wanted to say it. You’re the pervert, not me.”
“Whatever you say,” I reply as I make a doodle of Rupert getting blown in the face by a whale’s blowhole.
“But we should go whale watching,” he continues. “These fucks are huge, and they deserve our attention. I mean look at this, they’re waving to the tourists with their flappers.”
I glance at the picture he’s trying to show me. “They’re not called flappers.”
“Then what are they called, genius?”
“Fins.”
“Same thing.”
“Not even close.” My phone buzzes with a text message next to me, and I nearly fall off the couch reaching for my phone.
I’ve been waiting all day for Renley to text me back after I asked her how I could get in more visitations today, but she has yet to respond.
Excited, I swipe at my screen to read the text, but I’m massively disappointed when I see that it’s actually a text from my father.
“Is it from her?” Rupert asks.
I shake my head. “No, it’s from the Lord Dickhead.”
Rupert cringes. “What the hell does he want?”
“Who knows.”
I open the text and read it to myself.
Lord Dickhead: Had an interesting conversation with Neil today. Told me that his daughter is quite available and looking to marry soon. I mentioned that you were in the same boat.
“That motherfucker,” I say out loud.
“What? What did he say?” Rupert slides in next to me and reads the text. “Oh shit, he’s applying the pressure.”
“What do you mean?”
“Perfect scare tactic. He’s trying to scare you so that you feel pressured to push harder and therefore possibly mess up the work you’ve already put into securing Renley’s hand.”
“You think so?”
“Absolutely. Classic bad father plot. He’s coming in to shake you up a bit so that you do something desperate.” Rupert shakes his head. “Not my man though, you’re better than that and you see right through him. Do not fall for it.”
“Do you really think he talked to Neil?”
“You know”—Rupert picks his pamphlet back up—“I wouldn’t put it past him. Seems like something he’d do. Shoot you a text to scare you.”
“Yeah, you’re right, that does sound like something he’d do, especially if he wants to be right in this scenario. Do you believe I should text him back?”
“You must. You don’t have an option. He’s trying to win the upper hand here and we can’t allow that.”
“What should I text him back?”
He takes my pen and circles a website on the pamphlet. “Tell him that you and your fiancée are going on walks every morning.”
“But she’s not my fiancée.”
“Then say your future wife, because that’s not lying. That’s just you being optimistic.”
“Okay, yeah.”
I pull up the text message and I start typing back.
Theo: Don’t waste your time talking to Neil. My future wife and I are walking together every morning, which has provided a nice way to get to know each other.
“There.”
“Let me read it,” Rupert says. I show him the screen and he nods. “That’s perfect. Not too aggressive, but also shows that he should be nervous that you’re about to give the family name to someone else. Someone who doesn’t have a voice that makes dogs cry.”
Not to pick on Neil’s daughter, but he’s right.
Her voice is unbearable, especially because she also tends to be a know-it-all.
There was one conversation I was having with my mates about cricket, and she kept stating the rules to the game, but the worst part was, she was completely incorrect.
If you’re going to butt into a conversation that you weren’t invited to, then at least know what you’re talking about so you sound half intelligent.
My phone buzzes with another text.
I glance down at it and it’s a picture of Neil’s daughter wearing a wedding dress that’s ill-fitting, lumpy on the sides, and far too thick at the base, which seems like it would cause her to trip.
“God.” I turn my phone away.
“What?”
I flash the screen at Rupert and he shivers from head to toe.
“Dear God in heaven, that was…that was mean,” he says.
“Yeah, that was just being rude. Going below the belt, some might say.”
“Unsure what he’s trying to prove other than that’s not the woman you’ll walk down the aisle with if I have anything to do with it.” He points toward the door. “I didn’t deface his portrait for that man to win. You’ll marry Renley Lynn Gossage if it’s the last thing I do!” Rupert shouts.
I bring my hands together to start clapping when, from the window, we hear, “That’s quite the proclamation.”
Eyes wide, Rupert and I turn to each other, panic setting in.
Whispering, I ask, “Was that Renley? Did she hear us?”
Rupert hunkers down and glances toward the window. “I think it was and I think she did.”
“What do we do now?”
“Opening the door would be job number one,” she says.
Whispering even lower, Rupert says, “She can hear us.”
Rolling my eyes, I stand and say, “Of course she can, the window’s open.”
I move toward the front door and open it wide, plastering on a smile. “Renley, wow, so wonderful to see you. I thought I’d have to search you out myself for visitation, but here you are, at my front door. What a pleasant surprise.”
“Care to explain yourself?”
I scratch my chest, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. “Whatever do you mean?”
“You’ll marry me if it’s the last thing you do?”
Okay, so she did hear.
Not a big deal.
I can handle this.
“Technically, that was Rupert that said that. Right, Ruuuu—” I look around the living room, and he’s nowhere to be found.
That motherfucker.
“Looks like he doesn’t want to confess his wrongdoings, but I will for him. He just really wants to see me happy and married, so I think that conversation had energy he never expected you to witness.”
“Mm-hmm, I see.”
“Yeah, but, you know, you’re your own woman and you make your own choices, so whatever you decide is obviously best for you, even if that means you marry a sandbox. If that’s the case, I’ll be sure to send a gift to you and the sandbox, perhaps a shovel or two.”
“You’re rambling.”
“And sweating,” I add, easing the anger in her expression. “Any chance you want to tell me why you’re here so we can move past this?”
“Fine, I came here because I needed some help lifting something and thought that you and Rupert could assist.”
“Of course,” I say with way too much enthusiasm. “Let me slip on my trainers and I’ll be right there. Is it over at your house?”
“No, it’s at the candy store.”
“Oh, and you came all the way over here to ask me? You know, you could have just answered my text that I sent you.”
“I had to come back to the house for some supplies so figured I could just ask you here.”
“Do you mean that, or are you attempting to avoid having a cyber repartee with me? Are you nervous I’ll break the rules?”
“You most likely will, but I’m not nervous about that in the slightest because I’ll just block you.”
“Ouch, without a warning?”
“Follow the rules.” She lifts her chin.
“I will.”
“You won’t.”
“I shall try.”
“I’m sure. Anyway, are you coming?” Not for quite some time, it seems.
“Any time I can spend with you is time well spent.”
“Dear God, don’t say that shit to me,” she says as she moves off the porch. “Meet me outside in five. Grab your friend, we’re going to need him.”
“Sure.” She heads down the porch stairs. “Wait until you see my muscles, you’re going to be quite impressed with how I can use them,” I call out as she walks toward her house. “I can come shirtless. Want me to be shirtless?”
“No.” Then her front door slams shut.
Guess I’ll be keeping the shirt on then.
“It’s a work in progress, so don’t judge anything. This is the first time I’ve been in it since it shut its doors.”
Renley actually looks worried, as if she’s expecting me to tell her that her sweets store sucks.
Which, for the record, I’d never do. I’m trying to win this girl’s hand—the last thing I’d do is make fun of something that she really cares about.
Also, I’m not a dick, so that’s something I wouldn’t do anyway.
“Just open the door, I can’t wait to see it.”
She doesn’t open it yet but lets out a deep breath. “And I don’t think we discussed this, but when I get the chance and the ability to do so, I will pay you back the money that you gave me. Might take some time, but I will.”
“I’d say consider it a gift, but something tells me you’d never let that happen.”
“Nope,” she says and then pushes the door to the store open.
When we walk in, I’m immediately thrust into an old memory of a store I used to visit with my mother when I was young.
It was located in the Cotswolds. Dark wood shelves line the perimeter, a matching rolling ladder is attached to the shelves, making it easier to pull chocolate down, and a beautiful quartz countertop shines under the bulb lighting.
There are rows and rows of shelves scattered throughout the space, clear canisters are haphazardly placed everywhere, and silver scoops are in a pile together off to the side.
Despite the disarray, I find the entire thing to be incredibly—
“I know it’s not much, but we’re working on it.”
“Enchanting,” I say, finishing my thought.
“What?” she asks.
“The store. It’s enchanting.” I place my hands on the quartz counter, taking it all in. “Rupert, doesn’t it remind you of Constantine’s?”
He snaps his fingers at me. “That’s the name of the store I couldn’t think of. Constantine’s. Almost identical.”
“What’s Constantine’s?” Renley asks.
“A sweets store in the Cotswolds.” I move behind the bar. “It looked just like this with the ladder and the shelves, but the floor wasn’t wood, it was black and white squares, which almost made you feel dizzy when you were walking around.”
“And the shop owner gave out brown paper bags with twin handles, which you could fill with whatever you wanted,” Rupert adds. “I used to fill mine to the brim. Remember how if you could walk around with it filled to the brim and not have anything fall out, you’d receive a free giant lollipop?”
“That’s right,” I say, smiling. “I often received a free lollipop.”
“Same.” Rupert smiles with pride. “Shit, this place looks just like it.”
“It does.” I let my eyes wander. “I love it.”
“Oh…thank you,” Renley says with a shy smile. “I love it too.”
“It’s everything I’d want in a store like this. Please tell me you’re not changing much.”
“Umm, no, we don’t plan on it,” she says. “I want to preserve the store for what it is but give it a good cleanup. But I won’t be painting any shelves or ruining the integrity. More like polishing what is already here.”
“That’s brilliant,” I say, taking in the carvings on the shelves. “Someone with little integrity would whitewash the whole thing to go with the beach theme, losing the history within these walls.” I look at Renley. “They picked the right person for the job.”
And just like that, her cheeks pinken and her body language reads bashful.
Huh.
Is this the key to her heart?
Not that I’d take advantage of it, but the compliment seems to have taken the scowl off her face, and I don’t think I’ve been able to do that yet.
“Um, thank you,” she says just as Kitty strolls into the main space. Jesus, I didn’t even know she was back there.
She looks between us and says, “What are we doing? Just staring at each other? I don’t have all night. Let’s get to work.”
“Right.” Renley clears her throat. “I want to start on the floors first because they’re going to make the most mess when renovating. Which means I need help moving these shelves to the back so we can clear the floor space. Do you think you can help?”
“Of course,” I say, elbowing Rupert.
“Yes, of course, just tell us where you need us to put the shelves.”
And then just like that, we’re put to work, lugging heavy shelves through the candy shop, and the entire time, as I’m moving in tandem with Rupert, there are slight moments, and I mean slight, where I catch her glancing in my direction.
That…that’s all I need to tell me I’m doing something right. And if I’m honest, I completely enjoyed putting that happy smile on her face and am keen to do it again.