“So, what do you think?” Ruby said, her tone a little too breezy as she slipped seamlessly into a group, rejoining the tour.
“Love it! My drapes complement the new décor,” an older woman said, looping her arm through Ruby’s. “Youhave such an eye for these things. And thanks for buying local—too many people order the cheap stuff online.”
I fell into step beside her, letting the back of my hand graze hers when no one could see. She answered by pressing her hand further against mine.
I needed her—her bare words, her bare body, her bare heart.
47
Ruby
BY THE END OF THE NIGHT, my cheeks hurt from smiling, and my heart and body still hadn’t slowed from that kiss upstairs. I stood at the door again, thanking guests as they left, hugging staff and vendors who’d carried me through these last weeks.
Aunt Amy pulled me into an embrace, her perfume clinging like a second skin. More than affection, it felt like she was tackling me in slow motion—because my mother had just started with, “It was a great evening, Ruby. And Sebastian is here, so don’t go and spoil it with your—”
Amy launched at me then, muffling the rest and pinning my arms to my sides like a human straightjacket. Effective.
The inn grew quieter with each goodbye, the hum of voices thinning.
“It was a success, just like this place and you,” Rio said, swooping in with Evangeline and Daphne by her side, forming a wall of knowing grins.
“Thank you,” I said. “Where’s Owen?”
Rio smirked. “Off chatting to Sebastian. Said he knows what it feels like to be the outsider walking into a pack of women. Figured he’d give the guy a lifeline.”
“Or a warning,” Daphne quipped.
“You’re glowing,” Evangeline added, not bothering to hide her smirk.
“Please.” I waved a hand. “It’s sweat. Do you know how many trays I carried tonight?”
“Mm-hm.” Daphne narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t see you carrying anything heavier than a certain structural engineer’s gift.”
Heat climbed up my neck. “You’re all very funny,” I muttered dryly.
Evangeline’s smile softened, her voice gentler. “We mean it, Ruby. Good luck. He looks at you like it’s real—and we know it is.”
My heart thudded in my throat. “Yeah, well,” I said, forcing a grin, “if my heart gets broken, I’m moving in withyou.”
They laughed, and I shoved them toward the door, grateful for the dim light so they couldn’t notice how inside, I was burning. With desire, with fear, with love.
When the last car pulled away, silence wrapped around the inn, and only the echo of my pulse filled the hall. I dimmed the reception lights, my heels clicking against the polished floor.
I stepped onto the deck, the sea air cold against my skin. String lights glowed over the garden, casting the place in soft gold. And there he was, broad shoulders outlined against the night, watching the ocean.
I stopped next to him, rubbing my hands along my arms for warmth.
Sebastian slipped off his suit jacket and draped it around my shoulders as we turned to face each other. His hands lingered on the lapels as he held the edges in place.
I looked up and our eyes met. In that instant, my last guard slipped away.
His gaze was unflinching, solid, seeing every layer of me—past and present, chaotic and whole. It all threaded together. Us now, time etched in the lines of our faces, and us across the years when these lines had been added. That first meeting in astronomy class. The friendship. The safety I’d always felt with him. The teddy-bear hug. The Dork Side. That kiss and our awkward first time. The breathtaking years that followed. The way he’d always been there—sometimes quiet in the background, a harbor to return to, a jetty to absorb the waves, a pillar to hold me upright.
Even when I didn’t ask or know what to ask for.
He was still holding the lapels of his jacket, his fingers brushing against me before he finally let go.
“Better now?” His voice was laced with the weight of what had passed between us in that look.
