I brushed my thumb over her cheek. “I’m not going anywhere, Ruby. Even when I’m in Houston for the time being, I’m yours. Forever. Can’t get rid of me.”
She brought her gaze back to me. A glint shone in those blue eyes of hers. “I’m counting on it. Because I’m yours, Sebastian. For as long as you’ll want me.”
“Forever, then,” I said, my heart wrenching at the thought that confident Ruby carried this ache in her. I swore silently to spend my life healing it.
I wrapped her tightly in my arms and kissed her, my lips an oath to her.
“I MADE RESERVATIONSfor Marlowe.”
“What for?” Ruby turned from the open door of her closet to look at me.
“What for? I’m taking you out on our first date.”
She burst out in laughter. “First date? We’ve been fuc—dating each other for ten years.”
“No, go on, say it. We’ve been fucking for ten years, and even when we did go out, it didn’t count as a date. So, first date, tonight. Actually, in an hour, so wear something first-datey.”
“I’ll wear nothing,” she said, sauntering toward me. I was sitting in bed, my back against the headboard.
“That’ll be later.”
She stopped halfway across the room, thoughtful. “Come to think of it, I don’t go on first dates. Like, date-dates. The way Eve does, for example.”
I knew she hadn’t. Ruby wasn’t looking to date anyone all these years. “How many?” I said with a smirk, knowing she’d get my meaning.
“Not as many as you might think,” she shot back. Then, biting down on her bottom lip, her bravado seemed to falter just a little before she added, softer: “Was it really just coffee with Julie?”
“Yes. My dad pressed me into it. Hers did the same. Neither of us wanted it, so we sat there pretending for our fathers’ sake and left as soon as we could.”
She nodded slowly.
“Now get dressed,” I said. “I don’t want to miss our table.”
“Marlowe is like a ten-minute drive from here,” she said, taking a few more steps until she hovered over me. “I think we have time.”
We made time, and later it felt almost primal to sit across from her in the fancy restaurant in Coral Bay, knowing that under that curve-hugging red dress, Ruby carried my scent and so much more on her.
Talking over dinner about our future felt unreal, like we were scripting something I’d only ever let myself dream about.
We talked timelines and important dates—Rio’s wedding, Christmas, moving, she even hinted at children when she said, “And we can always extend the cottage to add more room and space. Or move into town.” Then she caught herself, her guard snapping back in place as she rushed to add, “If and when. If.”
“When,” I corrected.
She gave me a small smile—half busted, half grateful—like she knew I was reminding her it was safe to trust the future. That I was counting on our future.
Later that night, her head rested on my chest, my hand trailing idle patterns on her back.
“So Julie was just coffee. And Sandra?”
I tilted my head to look at her. “Sandra?”
Ruby shrugged, embarrassed. Another rare thing for her.
“She’s a good kid. Just needs someone to listen to her woes. Were you actually worried?”
“No. Just ... that’s when I realized I was getting ...”
“Jealous? Possessive?” I suggested with a side grin.
