Rory: Hope City, Book 7 by Maryann Jordan (uplifting books for women txt) 📕

shower. Do whatever you need to do. All I ask is that you leave the doors cracked so that if you need to call out to me, I can get to you.” Not giving her a chance to argue, he took her by the shoulders and gave her a slight nudge toward the en suite bathroom he could see through an open door. Also not wanting to cause her to be self-conscious, he walked out of the room and jogged down to the first floor.

Rounding the bottom of the stairs, he saw Ocee walking into the room, looking up at him as though assessing whether or not he would get fed. “Um… hey, buddy… Ocee.” He bent down, holding his hand out for the cat to sniff, pleased when Ocee purred and rubbed his head on Rory’s hand. He walked into the kitchen and looked around, discovering a dish on the floor. He opened the pantry and found a plastic tub of dry cat food. Uncertain of the feeding protocol, he put a little bit into the dish, which Ocee hurried to. While the cat munched, he continued to search her kitchen and found a stash of teabags. Microwaving a cup of water, he dunked the bag to steep.

Listening carefully, he heard the water from upstairs shut off. He gave her several minutes of privacy and then moved to the bottom of the stairs. “Sandy, I’m coming up,” he called out. Not hearing a response, he quickly bounded upstairs taking two at a time, halting outside her bedroom. Knocking on the doorframe, he called out again. “Hey, Sandy? Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’ll be right there.”

He waited in the hallway until she appeared. Staring down at her, he was glad to see her eyes were bright and her face had color. “You look much better than you did earlier.”

As she smiled and nodded, he was struck with the memory of the first time he saw her… when she’d beamed her smile toward him at the Celtic Cock and he’d noticed it was slightly crooked. He’d thought it was adorable then, and staring at her right now, fresh from the shower with no makeup on, she was just as beautiful.

Her wet hair was combed and slicked back from her face. She was wearing flannel pajamas with furry socks on her feet. There was nothing overtly sexy about her outfit, and while it seemed incongruent with the image he’d formed of her, it now seemed to fit her perfectly. There was nothing about Sandy that fit neatly into a box. She was full of surprises.

“I’m really fine now, Rory. You don’t have to stay.”

“I know I don’t have to. But I want to. I hope that’s okay with you.”

She appeared hesitant, and he waited, holding his breath. Finally, as though making a decision, she nodded. Looking back over her shoulder, she said, “I have no idea if I can get the blood out of those clothes, but I hate staring at them. The blouse was pretty, but not particularly new. I really like those pants, though.” She sighed heavily. “I can’t stand looking at the blood on them. It makes me feel woozy again. Would it seem terribly foolish to throw them away?”

Without replying, he gently walked past her and saw the offending garments on the floor of the bathroom. He scooped up the blouse and pants and wadded them in his arms. Walking back over, he said, “I don’t think it’s foolish at all. Let’s go downstairs and throw these out.”

They walked downstairs together, and she exclaimed, “Ocee, I forgot to feed you!”

He grabbed a garbage bag from the pantry and shoved the bloody clothes inside. “I wasn’t sure what he normally ate, but I gave him some dry food.” He inclined his head toward the counter. “And I made you a cup of tea.”

Her mouth dropped open as her gaze moved from the steaming cup of tea back to his face. “Tea? You made tea for me? But… but how?”

“Boil water. Drop in the teabag.” He lifted a brow as his lips quirked.

“Smartass.” She reached over to wrap her hands around the still-steaming cup.

“The only thing I wasn’t sure about was what you put in it. My sister likes sweetener. My mom only uses a teaspoon of sugar. My grandmother used to add honey. And my other grandmother would add a bit of milk.”

She burst out laughing. “Wow, you really do know what you’re doing.” She grabbed the sugar bowl and dumped two teaspoons of sugar into the tea and stirred. Opening her refrigerator, she pulled out a bowl with lemon slices and squeezed one into the cup. “I like both sugar and lemon.”

“I remember. You like sweet and tart.”

She sucked in a quick breath, and he immediately wished he hadn’t reminded her of the time before they shared a kiss—the time before he was an ass. He had wanted to have time to prove to her that he was a better man. He’d even considered charming her. But the man his parents had raised him to be only allowed for honesty. Throwing up his hands, he rushed, “Please, Sandy… I’m really sorry. I… fuck… I have no excuse. I’m just so sorry.”

14

Sandy continued to stare at Rory, her mind racing as she tried to figure out what he was apologizing for. When she’d first blinked her eyes open after passing out in the shop, she’d had no idea where she was or what had happened but seeing his handsome face had somehow righted her lopsided world, giving her something to hold on to. Uncertain if she was dreaming, she was shocked to discover that he truly was leaning over her, calling her name.

Her confusion continued when he insisted on driving her home, but one look at the bloody mess on the floor near Joan as the rescue workers were rolling her out to the ambulance sent woozy shockwaves through her again.

She’d expected him to drop her off at the