There’s a moment of tense quiet where Saint and Ruby stare at each other and have an entire conversation with facial expressions. Ruby tilts her head and raises her eyebrows, Saint crosses his arms with a small frown. Ruby narrows her eyes and puts her hands on her hips, Saint shakes his head and widens his eyes.
My eyes volley between them like I’m watching a tennis match. I’m fascinated and a little nervous. I want to know what they’re thinking. Does Ruby not like me? Is she worried about me staying at Saint’s?
Finally, Ruby huffs out a disbelieving laugh and turns to me. “If you don’t want to be stuck with my stinky brother, I have a floor and a perfectly good air mattress. Or my best friend, Stella, has a spare room.”
“Thank you, but I don’t want to impose,” I say at the same time Saint says, “Hey, I’m not stinky!”
“He’s right, he’s not. In fact, his house—and van and clothes—always smell like a bakery. So, if you’re into that…” Ruby trails off with a smirk.
“I… yeah. I’ll be okay.”More than okay. I think he smells delicious.
Apparently, Ruby can already tell.
“Well, time for us to get going, I’m sure Mikey wants to get out of her work clothes and—not like that. Don’t give me that look, Ruby Valentine. We’re leaving. Text me if you need anything.” Saint places a hand on my back and guides me to the door.
I briefly consider asking Ruby if she has any clothes I can borrow, but she’s a good half a foot shorter than me, so I don’tknow if they’d even fit. Plus, it would be weird, so I keep my mouth shut.
I can sleep in jeans and the shirt I have in the truck.
Nerves flutter around in my belly as I realize I’m about to sleep at Saint’s house.
11
As I guide Mikey down Main Street and around the edge of town to the small side road leading to my house, I’m slightly panicking, thinking I left my house a complete disaster.
My need to impress her overwhelms my sensibility, and while I’m generally a tidy person, my brain is telling me I left out a pair of dirty socks or have three days worth of dishes piled in my sink.
Which isn’t possible, because I live alone, and I do the dishes after every meal.
Mikey’s going to be in my house. In my guest room. Feet away all night, sleeping underneath my roof.
Instead of feeling nervous about a new person entering my personal space, I feelgiddy.
I hope she likes my home.
A small gasp slips through her pretty lips when the trees break, and she sees the coastal cottage inspired house. It was mine and Ruby’s childhood home, and when Mom passed, Ruby insisted I take ownership. She lived with me while we got theshop off the ground, then she moved into the one bedroom apartment above it.
The exterior of the house is a robin’s egg blue, and I recently had it refreshed. The front door is mom’s favorite color: hot pink. It clashes in a way that works, and even though I could change it, I can’t bring myself to. Having the eclectic colors makes me think of Mom and helps keep her memory alive.
It wouldn’t feel like home without it.
“This is… not what I was expecting your house to look like,” Mikey mumbles as she parks in the covered parking spot in front of my garage.
“Were you expecting a log cabin?” I tease.
“I should deny it, but yeah, a little.”
“Well, it’s not that, but come inside, and I’ll show you around. Do you need anything from in here?”
She reaches behind her and grabs a pile of neatly folded clothes. Jeans and a T-shirt, from what I can tell. “Just these.”
I bite back my disapproval. I’m assuming she has a similar outfit underneath her coveralls, and there’s no way she’s sleeping in jeans. Mikey deserves the utmost comfort, and sleeping in jeans is the opposite of that.
We get out of the truck and make our way into the house. The front door opens into an entryway that used to separate two bedrooms, but now, to the left, is a bathroom where one bedroom used to be. It’s an open floor plan, so once we step farther into the home, we see the expansive kitchen. I knocked down the bedroom walls to extend the kitchen a few years ago. The primary bedroom is across from the kitchen, and the living room bleeds into the space between in an open floor plan.
Mikey toes off her boots, her eyes wide as she takes it all in. Half of the kitchen is the original floor plan, with oak cabinetry and a big basin sink, but the other half is the added industrial equipment. I follow her gaze, taking in the state-of-the-artstainless steel appliances, multiple refrigerators, double oven, and black granite countertops.
She takes in my living room with a brown L-shaped leather couch, coffee table, flat-screen TV, and record player. All of the walls are painted an off-white color so I can decorate without having to worry about matching. Ruby tried to convince me to paint it an earthy green, but I like the possibilities of a blank wall.
