“Mr. Watson?” Rory interrupted. “That little old man who runs the grocery downtown? You’re dating him?” Rory hid his face from his grandmother and winked at Tabitha.
Lilly looked indignant. “Mr. Watson is a fine man and watch yourself—he’s the same age as I am.” She took Tabitha by the arm and escorted her into the house. “Excuse him. I suppose he’s showing off. I don’t blame him.”
Rory’s face turned the color of a ripe McIntosh and Tabitha wondered what shade of red her own must have been. She could feel the heat pulsing in her cheeks.
Gram led her into the kitchen. “Now sit right here while I fix some tea and call Mr. Watson. I’ll bet he and I can still make that movie.”
“Mrs. Farrell, my being here was completely last second. And I wouldn’t have come if I thought I was interrupting your time with your grandson. It’s not a date. You really should go with us.”
“Not a date?” Lilly repeated and looked with disappointment at Rory.
“I’m not saying another word.” Rory held his palms high in the air. “You two beautiful women can decide how many for dinner.” He glanced nervously at Tabitha. “If you’ll excuse me. My turn to shower.”
In the kitchen, Lilly poured herbal tea for two and entertained Tabitha with stories about Rory’s mischievous youth. Her voice felt like a balm to Tabitha’s tired nerves. For a moment, she forgot the horrors of the day and laughed until her belly ached.
“I can’t believe he did that,” she said. “I just met your grandson but it’s hard to imagine him loading school cubbies with toads. He seems so serious now. So honor bound.”
“That he is.” Lilly frowned a little. “I’m afraid he may come across a little too serious these days. His father’s death has been difficult. He’s very angry over it.”
“Angry? I thought your son died of cancer, not in the line of duty.”
“He did die of cancer. And very quickly. Rory’s angry at God. Angry his prayers weren’t answered.” She patted Tabitha’s hand. “But don’t you worry. He’ll work that out. He’s a good man. And I should know. I helped his father raise him.”
“Well, he adores you. That’s for sure.” Tabitha forced a smile, saddened to learn of Rory’s anger.
“And I adore him, which is why I refuse to go to dinner with you two.” She scooted from the table and snatched the portable phone from the kitchen counter.
“No. Please. You should join us.” Tabitha tried to persuade Lilly. But her mind was made up. She would not be a “third wheel,” as she kept putting it.
While Gram chatted with Mr. Watson, Tabitha thought about spending the evening alone with Rory. Her shoulders tied into knots. You can do this, Tabitha. You can have dinner with the man who rescued you. You can. It’s not a date.
“Let’s go.” Rory’s voice boomed into the kitchen.
Tabitha hadn’t heard him emerge from the back of the cabin. Turning, she followed the deep sound until she found him standing by the front door, adjusting his shirt collar. He looked amazing. She had thought so at the race, but now clean-shaven, dressed in a pair of slacks and a polo shirt, his sculpted features were even more pronounced. His broad shoulders and the strong line of his jaw had definite movie-star quality.
She pulled away her lingering eyes and edged her way to the foyer. Rory helped her to the truck. His strong hand on her elbow sent a tingle to her very core. Gram rode along with them into town, talking all the way. They dropped her at the theater where Mr. Watson waited. And Tabitha feared that what she’d been reluctant to call a date was turning out to be exactly that.
“Your Gram looks happy with Mr. Watson,” she noted.
Rory made a muffled sound and turned the truck into the restaurant parking.
Nick’s was a small, elegant bistro. She and Rory occupied a tiny table for two in the back of the dining room and ate some of the most delicious Italian food Tabitha had tasted in a long time.
“I’m eating like a truck driver,” she claimed. “Sorry. I didn’t realize how hungry I was. It’s delicious.”
“It is. And I’m glad you’re eating. It’s good to see you relax. You didn’t have anything for lunch.”
“Neither did you,” she countered.
He leaned closer to her with a cockeyed grin. “You noticed? I’m flattered.”
“Really? Flattered by that? You should listen to your grandmother and get out more.”
Rory’s deep baritone laughter filled the small room. Those hypnotic eyes twinkled at her in the candlelight. His grin spread wide under that slightly crooked and freckled nose—his only imperfection, if she could even call it that.
She felt her throat constricting. So far, the dinner had been casual, friendly-like, without any flirtations. This change made her uncomfortable. Uncomfortable because the change wasn’t just from him—she felt it in herself, as well.
She looked away as she wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin. She’d be a big fat liar to tell herself she didn’t feel attracted to him. Over the past two years, she’d wondered if she could ever feel like this again. She should have been pleased. Instead, it was completely unnerving. “I like your grandmother,” she said. “She’s spunky.”
“You like my grandmother. Great.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “She didn’t wear you out with all her stories and gossip?”
“You forget. I’m a lawyer. I’m used to lots of talking.” Except for tonight, she thought. She looked down at her watch. “Wow. Look at the time. We should probably get back to the inn.”
“What about dessert?” He looked hopeful.
“No, thank you.”
Rory frowned and placed his napkin beside his plate. He leaned forward with those intense eyes boring into her. “Coffee?”
Tabitha shook her head.
“Are you okay? You look pale again.”
“I’m fine.” But was she? Why did it feel like the walls were closing in? Must have been the mixture of exhaustion, anxiety and emotion catching up with her again. The sooner she was home the better. Away from Hendersonville, that mountain and Rory Farrell.
As they stood, Rory’s phone pulsed at his waist. Tabitha tried to look away as he mumbled in low tones, but her eyes were drawn to him like magnets to steel. He glanced her way as he spoke, his smile fading, and she knew the call was about her. About the attack. The pool of dread began to rise around her again.
Rory snapped his cell shut. “That was Detective Hines on the phone. They found your car.”
FIVE
The police had found her car. Tabitha wondered if it looked like her hotel room. The anxious thought made her body turn rigid. Rory reached for her arm. “I don’t need help. My ankle is better.” The words came out harsher than she’d meant them.
“Your ankle is better because you’ve been staying off it.” With a tug, he forced her to lean on him.
“Where did they find it?” she asked, as he helped her out of the restaurant and toward his truck.
“Abandoned near Interstate 40 not far from Asheville.”
“Well, this is good. Right? That they found it?”
Rory frowned and didn’t look at her as they walked toward the truck. “Maybe. It’s being towed to a lab. They’ll call you about it tomorrow.”
“But…”