“Can we not talk about her?” He eased his head back out from under the sink. If only he would ease it from out of his stubborn ass.
“Ella went on a blind date last night. Is that why you’re here? Why you took off from Bama and just had to have a vacation down here with me?” she went on, knowing she was irritating him the way sisters were supposed to. “You ruined her wedding.”
Jesse stood, set the tool down on the counter, and folded his arms over his chest. “I didn’t ruin her wedding. What she does is—”
“Don’t you dare say it’s none of your business. You’re the one who stood up at the dress rehearsal dinner the night before she was supposed to walk down the aisle and said she shouldn’t marry Brian.” She poked a finger at his chest.
His chin jutted forward slightly. He’d shaved his beard, which was a look she wasn’t used to on him. Jesse’s light blue eyes softened when he replied, “You didn’t like him. No one did. I did her a favor. I didn’t want to see a good friend of mine marrying some asshole.”
“You showed up on what would have been the day of the wedding after A.J. blew up your phone with messages to let you know Ella called it off. You and Ella shared a dance. Shared a moment. But why in blazes did you not make a move after that? She’s in love with you, ya idiot. And we both know you feel the same, so why has it been crickets since? Why did my best friend go on a blind date?”
“You roll your eyes anymore they’ll get stuck,” he said, repeating what their mom used to snap out to them growing up.
“I just can’t with you, Jesse. I don’t know what happened in . . .” Iraq. When his eyes met hers, the harsh glare of pain there, she abruptly turned, unable to handle seeing him hurting and knowing she may have been the cause. “Ella shouldn’t have married Brian, you’re right.” She should be marrying you. “And if you felt she needed some space after their breakup, well, it’s officially been long enough.”
Rory retrieved her bread and busied herself with applying butter and grape jelly. She bit down, brushing away the crumbs that scattered onto her plain cream-colored tee tucked into dark skinny jeans.
“Ella and I . . .” His voice was thick with—shit, regret.
Rory faced him and said, “You’re going on thirty-seven.” Stop poking the bear. But she loved that bear, and she didn’t want to give up on him.
“And you’re fixin’ to be thirty-four in December, so what,” he snapped back, still growly.
Her shoulders slumped, feeling too deflated to continue. He was more stubborn than her, which was saying a lot. “So, why are you here out of the blue, then?”
Relief filled his gaze as if grateful for the subject change. “A buddy of mine from the service is on leave here, and I plan on meeting up with him later today.”
She finished her toast in two more quick bites, still hungry despite the large lunch she’d cooked for the two of them earlier.
“How about we talk about the fact you’re back in the U.S.? And well, are you staying this time? Is this real? Why didn’t you move home instead? You can train dogs anywhere.”
“I am staying for . . .” Could she say the words “for good” and actually mean them? Would she settle down this time?
She thought back to her time with Carter Dominick seven weeks ago. His words of warning burned through her mind and had her shivering. Rory had never tried to fool herself and downplay the dangers surrounding her work. She’d always known the risks, but they had been worth it as long as no one discovered her. Carter capturing her changed everything.
“I have all the coursework and training. You know how great I am with animals. This is a perfect fit for me.”
“I know that, which is why you should have kept at it after college.” He maneuvered around her and went for the stack of mail like he’d spotted something of interest. “Tell me you’re not going to this?”
He picked up the invitation and flapped it in the air like the paper had wings and would fly. Far. Far. Away.
Yeah, she should have tossed the invite the second she received it yesterday. Her mom had been sending all her mail to her new place since Rory didn’t want anyone outside her close friends and family knowing where she lived quite yet. But instead of tossing the invite, she left it on her counter to stare at every time she walked by.
“You’re cordially invited to attend Andrew Cutter’s Treasure Extravaganza on Friday, October fifteenth, twenty twenty-one,” Jesse read the headline of the invite in a fake haughty voice.
Was it really already October 2021? Time had flown by ever since she’d escaped that shitty hellhole of a year, 2020. She’d never believed so many things could go wrong in one single year. Thank God for 2021, even with her run-in with Carter Dominick, it was still a far better year.
“Of course, I’m not going. It’s too last minute and all the way in D.C. I just moved here a month ago. If I want to get any clients, I can’t go and take off to some party out of town.” Her body felt a little limp and relaxed despite the fact he was flicking his finger at the invitation.
“This is a pretty big honor, huh?” he went on, pushing her buttons. Getting back at her. Testing her. Seeing if she’d take the bait. Go back to the life if her old flame asked her. Only Jesse had no idea that life wasn’t remotely close to the one she’d been living the last five years. “Andrew has gotta be pretty rich after this discovery.”
Her ex didn’t do what he did for the money. It was about the adventure. The rush of discovery. They’d professionally parted ways years ago, and it was even longer since they’d been a couple. Andrew had been the one to pull her into his world, though, a world she hadn’t known existed before him.
“His last discovery,” she said while snatching the invitation to the gala honoring Andrew for his latest find, “earned him one hundred million.”
Jesse’s mouth dropped open.
“Yeah, and you used to make fun of treasure hunting.” She’d begun seeking different types of treasures over the years, which was one reason why she and Andrew had gone separate ways.
Rory set the invite back on her stack of mail and went into the living room, drawing the blinds open to let in some light. The house she was renting was on the outskirts of the city, not that she couldn’t afford to be downtown, but she preferred to be away from crowds. She liked her space. Plus, she needed the property for her new business.
Jesse joined her and was about to sit on the latte-colored couch at the center of the room but stopped himself, acting as though their mom would holler to get his dirty self off the furniture.
The down-feather blend was expensive and probably wouldn’t have been her go-to, and she could only imagine having kids on it, but she didn’t have to do the shopping, so she wouldn’t complain.
Jesse plucked the material of his shirt between his fingers. “Be right back.”
She nodded and leaned against one of the three beams that served as a type of divider between the hallway that led to the foyer.
Thanks to her family and friends in Alabama, her home had been unpacked and designed within the first two weeks of moving in a month ago. An entire crew had shown up to help her out. One of those people happened to be Ella’s mom, a decorator. And she was the one to thank for not just the couch, but the entire French country farmhouse theme of the home.