Page 51 of Tattered Edges

I wasn’t.

I wanted him that night as much as I wanted him now—andthatwas my problem.

He wanted me now as much as he wanted me then—which was not at all.

What I said was true because it was my only option.

“I knew it. You’re sweet on him,” Victoria said, leaning against the counter separating us.

I didn’t want to lie. Not to Victoria.

Neither did I want to say it out loud.

Instead, I replied, “He’s not interested. Trust me.”

“I don’t believe that. He doesn’t give away much with that handsome face of his—but you know what they say. Actions speak louder than words. How do you explain the security cameras?”

I shrugged. “He was being neighborly. Besides, it wouldn’t be good for the block if a string of break-ins started happening.”

“Hmm,” she murmured as she straightened. She looked away from me then and began tidying up around the register as she said, “I might be a single, old spinster, but I’ve lived enough life and read enough books to know a man doesn’t come around like that unless he wants something. I’ve been here for ages, and he’s never come in for me. That leaves you, you gorgeous woman.”

She peeked at me out of the corner of her eye, smirking as she did it.

I rolled my eyes and combated the smile that wanted to spread my lips wide.

“It’s just dinner,” I insisted.

Only, when Rory walked through the door—right on time—one look at him and my insides combatted the lie.

He had changed, too.

He was wearing a pair of olive green chinos and a beige, quarter-zip sweater with subtle cable knit stripes. He had on the wool coat he’d worn on the day I’d officially met him, outside of Mr. Johnson’s office. Now, like then, he had his collar popped to protect his neck from the chill.

My goodness, he was so effortlessly debonair.

He gave off an air of not caring what anyone thought, but rather than arrogance, he carried himself with a quiet confidence. He looked after himself and possessed the pride necessary to look as good as he did, making him all the more desirable.

“Do you need help securing the door?” he asked by way of greeting, hooking his thumb over his shoulder.

“Oh. Yeah, sure,” I replied, remembering how it had taken both of us the night before.

“Alright, then. That’s my cue,” said Victoria, slipping into her coat. “I’ll see you in the morning. You two enjoy your dinner.” She winked at me as she passed, and I shook my head just slightly but waved at her in farewell.

Two minutes later, the shop locked up for the night, Rory and I were left standing in the cold.

“Did you think of someplace you wanted to go?”

“Yes. I made a reservation earlier. It’s about a twenty-minute walk, but an Uber would be better, given the temperature. I ordered it before I left my place. Should be here any moment.”

I wanted to make a joke about how I was the one who was supposed to be treating him, and yet he’d already thought of everything—but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. The truth was, walking into a restaurant with him and asking for a table for two was one thing. Walking into a restaurant with him for areservationfor two seemed different.

I thought it best to leave well enough alone.

“What’s the restaurant called?”

“Duck and Waffle.”

I smiled up at him. “Duckand waffle? Is that a thing here?”

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