Page 49 of Tattered Edges

“I wanted to check to see how you were.” Breaking eye contact with her, Rory gave the shop a cursory glance and continued, “Everything seems back in order, except for the door. Any word on that?”

“Yeah,” she said, crossing the room to shorten the distance between them. “We’ve got someone scheduled to come fix it, but it won’t be until tomorrow.” She came to a stop and slipped her fingers into the back pockets of her jeans. “It’s a bit drafty for now, but at least the rain let up a little.” She jerked her chin, her gaze dropping to the bag in his hand as she queried, “What have you got there?”

“Security cameras. Nothing terribly fancy, but they’ll do the job. You can download the app of the live stream on your phone. You’ll have to pay for the subscription, but it won’t break the bank.”

Her gaze shot up to meet his, her eyes round in awe. “You—you bought me security cameras?”

“And a sensor for the door,” he answered with a nod. “I’ve got the time now. I’ll install them if you don’t object.”

“Rory…”

The way she said his name tugged at his heartstrings. While the two hadn’t known each other long, he was quite familiar with her gratitude. Biscuits, wine, scotch—she was a thoughtful woman who expressed herself through gift giving. He found it unnecessary, but he couldn’t deny he appreciated the sentiment.

Except this—her tone, the expression on her face—it meant so much more. He didn’t want it to; he didn’t want to be moved by her words, her authenticity, or her tenderness, but he was. Not for the first time, he combatted what he feared were genuine feelings for the woman. He knew better. He knew himself. There was no point in pursuing someone who would probably come to want more from him than he was capable of giving.

She deserved better than that.

“I don’t even know what to say,” she practically gushed. “Thank you.And yes, please. I would love for you to install them now.”

“Alright. I’ll let you know when I’m finished.”

Rory set aside his tools and supplies before shrugging his way out of his jacket. He draped it over a nearby chair and then got to work. It wasn’t complicated and it didn’t take long. In less than an hour, he was finished. He helped Sawyer connect the devices to the app on her phone, and her excitement was nearly palpable.

Until that moment, he hadn’t really given much thought to how invested she was in the store. Sure, she’d been stubborn in her resolve to stay in London and claim ownership of the business the father she never knew had left her—but it was all so odd and convoluted, not to mention an inconvenience to him—that he hadn’t taken the time to recognize how important the store had become to her.

When she’d told him about the break-in, it was obvious she was frightened, and he understood her dismay at seeing the store in such a messy state—but he was beginning to realize it was more than that.

Rory remembered what it felt like the first time he stepped behind the bar at his grandfather’s pub. He hadn’t gotten stuck at The King’s Steed; he’d chosen to stay—because he loved it; because it meant something to him; because he believed the pub was part of the community and keeping it going was more of a public service than any other job he might have landed after university.

If Sawyer had found her purpose in Tattered Edges in the same way, he could respect her decision to stay on a whole new level. Moreover, any lingering thoughts of one day acquiring the building to move forward with his restaurant plans were unfair. If he really wanted to open a restaurant, he could do it someplace else.

He was packing up his tools when Sawyer asked, “Do you have plans tonight?”

Frowning, he glanced at her from over his shoulder as he replied, “Why?”

“Because if you don’t, I’d like to take you to dinner to say thank you. Seriously. You didn’t have to do this, but I’m so glad you did. I’ll pay you back, of course, for the equipment. As for your time—I owe you dinner.”

“I appreciate it, but you don’t owe me anything. You’ve said your thanks, and that’s enough.”

“Oh, but you know I can’t leave it at that,” she said as he slipped on his jacket. He turned to face her as she added, “If you don’t say yes, chances are good I’ll be forced to buy an obscene amount of chocolate biscuits instead.”

“God, please don’t,” he griped.

She grinned. “I won’t…if you’ll say yes to dinner. Come on. It’s the least I can do.”

There was something about her smile that made him say, “Fine. You win. Dinner.”

She clasped her hands together in front of her chest, and for a moment he thought she might leap in her victory.

Thankfully, she didn’t.

He was relieved.

It would have been unbearably cute.

“Great. We’ll go wherever you want. I’m free after seven. We can go then, or later if you need.”

“Seven works. I’ll meet you here.” He grabbed his tools, indicating his intention to take his leave.

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