That’s when I saw it.
In the dim light, something dark curved just below her left breast. I narrowed my eyes, shifted, and flicked on the bedside lamp.
The light washed over her, and there it was—small, inked into her skin. A Superman emblem.
You’re her Superman.My throat tightened. “Ruby ...”
She stirred, eyes fluttering open, hazy with exhaustion.
My fingers traced the ink. “When did you get this?” I knew she’d never have chosen this one just for herself.
Her lips lifted into something I rarely saw on her—a shy smile.
“When I thought this was all I’d ever have of you,” she said. “I couldn’t imagine ever being brave enough to reach out. All I could see were the worst-case scenarios. I kept telling myself that if I controlled my feelings, my heart, I couldn’t get hurt. Ever.” Her voice dipped, almost breaking. “But all I really did was block out the good, the things fear never let me picture for more than a second.”
I brushed my thumb over the mark, my chest tight. She gave a breathy laugh. “I know, I sound like I’m parroting a self-help book.”
I cupped her face with one hand. “Only because you’re still learning it. And you don’t have to learn it alone.”
I bent and kissed her lips. I then shifted and pressed my mouth to the tattoo, a vow made in the contact. Something inside me broke and rebuilt all at once at the thought of her getting it done, thinking she’d never have the courage to love me.
I dragged my mouth up from her rib cage to her breast, kissing, tasting.
Ruby shifted, pushing me to lie on my back with her on top of me. She kissed me, then sat up, her hair falling into her face, her body warm and bare above mine. My hand slid across her torso, back to the mark as if I could brand myself with it too.
Ruby eased me into her again. Not for hunger this time. Not for release. For forever.
THE SMELL OF COFFEE, warm pastries, and the light salty ocean air filled the small cottage. The sky outside was overcast, but inside was bright and soft.
Ruby sat with her bare legs tucked beneath her, her curls still damp from the morning shower.
Waking up beside her felt different now. It felt like belonging. Like home.
“Circus starts next week,” she said, tugging her hoodie tighter around her. “The main house is fully booked, and almost all the cabins. This is my last chance to sit quietly like this.”
“It’s a good circus,” I said, reaching for her hand across the table.
She intertwined her fingers with mine. “The best.” Then, lowering her eyes to our joined hands, she added, “What happens now? Your job’s in Houston. Your life’s there.”
I squeezed her hand, then guided her up with it. Ruby rose, circling the table as I pivoted in my chair, keeping hold of her hand until she sank into my lap.
“I’ll split my time between here and there for a while,” I said. “My projects are flexible if I manage them right. And I’ll ask for a transfer. Ames and Armstrong both have positions I’m interested in, and they want me. So ... it shouldn’t be a problem.”
She draped one arm around my shoulders and met my eyes. Sitting on my lap, we were level, face to face.
“Are you sure you want to uproot your whole life?”
“My whole life is right here, Ruby. Over there is just my job. And jobs can change.”
She huffed a small breath, somewhere between relief and disbelief, like she was still trying to wrap her head around my words.
“What?” I asked, wanting her to say it out loud, to confide in me.
She averted her gaze. “Evangeline said I was heartache-phobic. And she’s right. I am. Was. Am. So to know you’d already thought about moving and all, it ... helps.”
“The only thing surprising here is that you’re surprised I did. But I’m warning you—you’ll need to barricade yourself when my mom unleashes her flood of thanks about me moving back to California.”
Ruby chuckled. “If I can handle mine, I can handle yours.”
