The proximity was doing things to my pulse. She smelled good—something light and sweet that made me want to lean closer.
"Wine?" I asked, needing something to do with my hands. "Or I have champagne, if you're feeling celebratory."
"Wine sounds perfect."
I poured two glasses while she shed her coat, draping it over the back of a chair. The dusty rose sweater underneath clung to her curves in a way that made it hard to focus on not overfilling the glasses.
When I handed her the wine, she held my gaze for a beat longer than necessary, her fingers brushing mine as she took the glass. "Thank you."
We settled on the couch by the fire. She curled into the corner, angling toward me, looking more relaxed than I'd seen her yet.
"So," she said, sipping her wine, "what made you agree to be auctioned off? You don't seem like the type to enjoy being put on display."
I laughed. "Evelyn Hartwood is persistent. And honestly? A little terrifying."
Ruby's laugh was genuine, lighting up her whole face. "She really is. I think half the town is scared of her."
"Only half?"
"The other half just hasn't met her yet." She set her glass down, shifting slightly closer. "But seriously. What made you say yes?"
"The cause matters," I said. "The veterans' center needed help. And Evelyn made a compelling case that this would raise more money than a silent auction."
"She was right," Ruby said, her eyes sparkling. "Were you nervous up there?"
"A little," I admitted. "Not exactly my comfort zone."
"You didn't look nervous. You looked..." She paused, considering. "Confident. Like you knew exactly what you were doing."
"I was focused on you."
The words came out more honest than I'd intended, but she didn't seem to mind. Her smile widened.
"Good answer."
We talked easier after that. She asked about the resort, seemed genuinely interested in how I'd renovated the property. I asked about her food truck business, and she told me about building her customer base, her favorite pastries to make.
I'd told myself for years I didn't need this kind of connection—the easy conversation, the shared laughter, someone who made me want to stay. But sitting here with Ruby, I found myself not wanting the night to end.
"You know," she said after we'd been talking for a while, "you know what would be perfect right now? Something chocolate. Something sweet and indulgent." She gestured toward the kitchen with a playful smile. "It is Valentine's weekend after all. You have chocolate in that fancy kitchen of yours?"
"Should have some in the pantry."
She uncurled from the couch, stretching in a way that made my mouth go dry. "Perfect. Let me see what we can make."
I followed her into the kitchen, watching as she opened the refrigerator and scanned the contents with an expert eye.
"Valentine's weekend," she mused, pulling out strawberries. "We should make something appropriate."
She found chocolate in the pantry, along with cocoa powder, and started gathering items on the counter. "Chocolate-covered strawberries. Easy and decadent."
"You sure? I don't want you to have to work—"
"I want to," she said, glancing at me with a smile. "Besides, you've never tried my food. Time to fix that, don't you think?"
Hard to argue with that logic.
She moved through my kitchen with the confidence of someone who knew her way around professional equipment. Rinsing strawberries, setting up a double boiler for melting chocolate, arranging everything with quick efficiency.
