Even with the bump of Chelsea’s message, the day had been a good one. Lori’s client had liked the website she’d built and decided to add several more pages. Charlie had hugged her, hard, as she was leaving Java Cupid. Lori had texted Rigs asking if he could grill. The thumbs’ up emoji she’d gotten in return had made her smile. Now, she was sprinkling the pork chops she’d purchased with spice so they’d be ready for the grill when Rigs arrived.
Lori had on a pair of white Capri pants and a button-down top with large flowers. White lace flats with rubber soles made a soft padding sound as she moved around the kitchen. Sweet potatoes, applesauce, and asparagus would complete the meal. She’d made triple chocolate chip cookies for dessert. There was beer and her diet cola in the fridge. The table was laid with the settings with the corner between them. Lori wanted a more intimate feel than them being across from each other. The bud vase with the blooming coral rose decorated the table with a squat candle in front ready to light.
Now all she needed was Rigs. Glancing at the clock at the same moment the doorbell rang, made her smile. Lori looked into the black window of the microwave doing a quick check of her hair before she went to open the door.
“Hi,” Lori said, suddenly bashful. She stepped back to allow Rigs to come in.
Today, Rigs had a bottle of wine in his hand. He set it on the small table next to the door and pulled Lori to him. “Hi, beautiful.” He placed a gentle kiss on her lips, then seemed to study her face. Whatever he saw must have satisfied him because he smiled. “Thanks for inviting me to dinner.”
Lori guffawed. “I seem to remember that you invited yourself.” She grabbed the wine bottle and headed to the kitchen, knowing Rigs would follow.
“Oh, so I did. You agreed to it though, so that was sort of an invitation.”
Lori dug out her corkscrew and held it out to him. He quirked his lips, took the bottle from her and untwisted the cap.
“It’s not that expensive a wine.” Rigs chuckled. “Or that old. It’s good though, at least for my unsophisticated pallet.”
Lori got a couple of wine glasses out and allowed him to pour. She took a sniff, swirled the liquid in the glass, and made a show of slurping air into her mouth. “An excellent bouquet. Hints of oak and cherry with a tiny bit of spice.”
“What?” Rigs just looked confused.
Lori laughed. “I saw that in a movie once. Or something like that. I haven’t a clue what they were talking about.”
They busied themselves with dinner preparations, Rigs doing the grilling outside while Lori completed the rest of the meal. Just as she was lighting the candle, he brought the platter with the chops in from the backyard.
As they ate, Rigs told Lori about his plan to contact his daughter.
“I hope she wants to develop a relationship with you, Rigs.” Lori reached over and squeezed his hand that was lying on the table.
“Well, we’ll see. I hope so too. I know I’ll never be Dad to her. I lost that when I chose to stay in the Navy. Eric raised her, and her brother, well. I just wish I could be more in her life. I didn’t get that chance with Mark. Didn’t really take it, even when I got out of the Service. Now, I won’t have the opportunity. Makes connecting with Kaitlyn all the more important.”
“I agree. You do all you can to develop that relationship.” Lori paused, thinking how, no matter what she did to promote the ones between her and her children, they needed to want it to develop too for it to do so.
Interested in reading the previous Java Cupid books? Here' s the link to Amazon's Java Cupid Series Page
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Sophie Dawson has made up stories in her head all her life. It wasn’t until 2011 that she began writing typing them out.
Her first books were all historical fiction romance. They’ve won multiple awards and garnered rave reviews. Now, Sophie is branching out into contemporary romance though she plans to continue writing historical and hopes to add more books in her popular Cottonwood and Stones Creek series.
Sophie lives with her husband and cat on a farm in western Illinois. She’s an avid seamstress and was a professional quilter for a number of years before the writing bug bit. She’s just thankful it’s not fatal.