Torin (Hope City #9) - Maryann Jordan Page 0,8

Hope City Marathon? Bekki and I’ve been running together. I know you like to get up early and run, but if you ever want to go out with us, please do. I’d love to run with my big sister.”

It seemed like it had been forever since she had done anything with Caitlyn and Bekki. Staring into her beautiful sister’s eyes, she could see that the invitation was sincere. “Sounds good. We’ll plan for it.” It wasn’t her imagination that Caitlyn breathed a sigh of relief, and regret that her family had worried about her speared through Erin.

Caitlyn headed down the hall toward the kitchen, and Erin turned at the sound of the front door opening again. This time, her smile was even wider and her heart lighter as she accepted the tight hug from Rory. Obviously not identical twins, they had still shared their mom’s heartbeat from the beginning and always seemed to be on the same wavelength. Before they had a chance to chat, Sharon called her family to the dinner table.

As usual, the McBride family meal was a lively event. The conversation bounced between family members, their jobs, activities, even the Kings living next door. And by the time dessert was served, Kyle and his fiancée, Kimberly, joined in.

After a while, everyone left other than Rory. Erin and her mom moved out to the back patio and sat, catching the afternoon sun. Surprised when the door opened and Rory came out, she was even more shocked when he sat down with them. She looked over, lifting a brow.

“What? Can’t I join you?” he asked.

She stared at her brother with a suspicious gaze. “What’s on your mind, Rory? Not that I don’t like your company, but something is bothering you.” She watched his face, recognizing the exasperated expression as he huffed.

“I think I made an error in judgment.” He continued to explain that after listening to idle gossip, he’d made poor assumptions.

Sitting up straight, Erin stared at him, shocked. “That doesn’t sound like you. I mean, Sean can be a bit judgmental at times. Kyle can be rather hotheaded and tends to say exactly what he thinks. But you were always the one who was easy going.”

He admitted he’d screwed up. “I was an ass to her.”

A woman? And from the look on his face, not just any woman. Surprise hit Erin as she realized how much she’d missed while concentrating on her own problems. She may not have found love again, but she wanted Rory happy. And if there was one person she knew could make everything right, it was Rory.

They wrapped their arms around each other as she walked him toward his truck. Looking up, she said, “If this woman is someone you’re really interested in, then go for it.”

After hugging goodbye, she watched him drive away. She closed her eyes and said a quick prayer that the woman Rory had fallen for would forgive his error and give him another chance.

Another chance. Is there really such a thing? For the first time in a long time, she hoped there was.

He stood behind the bar, his arms bearing his weight as his hands were planted on the worn, smooth wood. His gaze roved around the room, every inch memorized, seeing nothing out of place. He’d always loved being the first to arrive, hours before opening. He liked the quiet time to gather his thoughts, and the peaceful bar had always given him that place.

The night shift, under his leadership, would have scrubbed the floors and tables, cleaned the restrooms, and run the glasses and dishware through the washer, all before leaving. That meant each day he came down to prepare for opening, he only had to restock the bar.

But today, his body stayed locked in place, his mind in turmoil. The week before, a woman had been roofied in his bar. Thank God, Sandy had recognized what had happened and her quick action had alerted several of the paramedics nearby. The woman was fine, but the perpetrator had not been caught.

In my bar. A woman had been fuckin’ roofied in my bar.

He liked control, liked knowing that his grandfather’s vision had been maintained through the years. Other than the time he’d spent in the Army, the Celtic Cock had been his second home. And the violation of a customer felt like a violation to himself.

Sighing, he pushed himself to standing and grabbed the ever-present rag off his shoulder to wipe down the already thoroughly scrubbed bar top.