Page 41 of Tattered Edges

He nodded again then left me in the hallway, returning once more to his bedroom.

I stood unmoving, relishing in the fact that Ihadgotten a glimpse of Rory half dressed, with sexy bedhead.

Then I reminded myself a glimpse was all I was going to get, and I had things to do that morning.

I grabbed my bag from the living room and locked myself in the bathroom. I skipped my hair routine and managed to make myself presentable in under thirty minutes. When I reemerged, I was in one of the sweaters I’d layered up with the night before and a pair of jeans. I found Rory in the kitchen. He’d donned a shirt and was sitting at his dining room table with a mug filled with a steaming beverage, his attention focused on the tablet in front of him. He looked my way when he heard me enter the room.

“Could I get you a wee bit of coffee?” he asked.

“Actually, I’d love some, if it’s not too much trouble.”

He stood without further prompting and reached for a mug off one of his floating shelves beside the stove. I discarded my bag and then went to stand across from him on the opposite side of his kitchen island.

“I’m going to close the shop today. I let Victoria know, already. If I could get the name of that contact you mentioned—”

“About that, I called while you were in the shower,” he interjected, filling the mug with what remained in his stovetop moka pot.

I was not the least bit surprised to learn this was how he made his coffee—strong, and bold with flavor. Sophisticated. And bit labor intensive first thing in the morning.

“Figured it would be easier. I know the man and could ask for a favor. He’s already agreed to squeeze you in this afternoon. I didn’t have your number to share with him, but you can text him as soon as I give you his information.” He paused and glanced over at me before asking, “Milk and sugar?”

“A little of both. Thank you.” I watched him doctor my coffee, all the while transfixed by his very nature. Before I could think better of it, I teased, “You know—you’re a lot nicer than that scowl you’re always wearing would imply.”

He pinched his eyebrows together as he looked over at me and argued, “I’m not always scowling.”

I grinned, holding back a laugh as I replied, “Right, well—thank you for calling in that favor. You’re a life saver.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he muttered, handing over my coffee. “It really was no trouble. Besides, can’t have you camping out on the couch forever. Though, it seems that’s a habit of yours even at home.”

He said it with a straight face, and if I didn’t know any better I would have felt like a burden. Except, there was something in his eyes which assured me he was mostly teasing.

“I’m stuck on the couch only for a couple more days. My furniture is scheduled to be delivered tomorrow.”

“Your spine will rejoice.” As he returned to his seat at the table, he told me, “Sit if you want to. And if you’ll give me your number, I’ll text you Will’s contact details.”

My stomach fluttered in excitement at the prospect of us exchanging phone numbers. It was silly, the way I naturally responded to the simplest things he said; but as I situated myself in a chair one removed from his, I resisted the urge to let my mind runaway with his request and quelled the feeling in my belly.

Rory and I were just a couple of new friends, and that would have to do.

Istayedonlyuntilmy coffee was gone. As soon as my mug was empty, I gathered my things and headed home before I had the chance to overstay my welcome at Rory’s. After a night with no heat, my flat and the bookstore were freezing. The high that day would reach nearly fifty degrees, but that wasn’t saying much. It was a relief knowing Will would be around later. In the meantime, I headed out, in search of warmth.

My first stop was to a nearby coffee shop, where I ordered a breakfast sandwich and settled behind my laptop for a while. We were already starting to get some activity on our newly created Tattered Edges social media accounts, which was great news. I shared a post, making light of the heating issue I hoped would be resolved by the end of the day, and then scheduled a few more photos.

When I was finished, I opted to play tourist for a while and headed for the London Eye. While I hadn’t planned it, the sky was clear, and the view was beautiful for the entirety of my ride. I snapped a ton of photos, as only a tourist would, and sent a few to Diane when I was back on the ground. Then, with more time to kill, I ventured to Borough Market. After wandering around for a bit and purchasing a few unexpected finds from a couple of vendors, I finally made the journey home.

Will buzzed up to the flat mid-afternoon, in the early portion of his estimated time of arrival. He was a friendly, older man who headed straight for the roof upon seeing me bundled up as if I were still outdoors. In less than an hour, my heat was back on.

I actually squealed in excitement when I felt warmth wafting from my radiator.

Soon after I paid the man and walked him out, I sent Victoria a message, letting her know the store would be open the next day. I had half a mind to open the doors for the remaining three hours of business left in the evening, but ultimately decided to let the rest of my free day play out as it would.

My place was almost warm enough to start shedding layers when I thought of Rory. He might not have been the one to physically fix my boiler, but he was the reason the issue was resolved in less than twenty-four hours. When he offered me a warm place to sleep, he made me promise I wouldn’t thank him with another box of biscuits—but I remembered Hattie’s advice about scotch.

A quick internet search helped me find the best place to procure such a purchase. An hour later, I was walking into The King’s Steed with a maltedthank youI hoped he’d appreciate.

It was Wednesday, which meant the Parlour wasn’t open, so I didn’t bother with the stairs and headed for the Tavern. Except, as I made my way to the bar, I didn’t see any sign of Rory.

“Hello there, deary. And what have you got this time?”

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