Ruby
“You fed a chocolate-coveredstrawberry to your boss?” Lainey says, in a way that makes it sound like I threw Fletcher to the ground and had sex with him instead of what actually happened. I knew I shouldn’t have told the members of our Galentine Girls Club, as our matching t-shirts proclaim. The matching short, pink net skirts and pink high heels complete our Galentine’s Day outfit.
“It wasn’t like that.” I feel the heat rise in my cheeks as I think back to exactly what it felt like to have Fletcher’s lips close around my fingers, his tongue flicking gently over my fingertips.
“Sure, it wasn’t like that.” Lainey draws out the word “sure.” “I wonder what my boss would do if I fed him a chocolate-covered strawberry?”
“I think he’d love it if you fed him anything.” Marigold giggles, making me wonder how many drinks she’d had before I arrived. She’s the only one who won’t have a busy day at work tomorrow—unless there’s a huge rush to check out a book from the library. “He’s definitely looking at you like he wants to eat something.”
“He is not.” Lainey denies, even as her eyes betray her, sliding to where her sexy boss, Dean, is glaring at her from behind the bar.
“Maybe if you’d stop teasing him all the time.” Marigold isn’t ready to let Lainey’s relationship with her boss go just yet. “I watch how you rub up against him behind the bar, as if he’s in your way and you need something from behind him.” Marigold and her book club meet in the back room of the bar once a week so she has better insight into their interactions.
“What about you, Marigold? Are you ever going to tell Warren that you write romance novels and that the one you’re reading is based on him and on what you want to do to him?” Esme decides to join the discussion, siding with Lainey. “You’re just as horny for Warren as these two are for their bosses.” Or not. Esme seems eager to lecture the three of us on our love lives. “If I had someone who looked at me the way Dean looks at Lainey, or someone who would sign up for a romance book club just to be near me, or heaven forbid, someone who eats chocolate covered strawberries out of my hand, I wouldn’t be in a bar the night before Valentine’s Day, celebrating a made-up holiday to make single women feel better about being single wearing matching t-shirts. I’d be at home waxing everything that needs to be waxed, getting ready for tomorrow night, and the actual holiday that screams sex.”
The three of us stare open-mouthed at Esme, who calmly raises her strawberries and Champagne margarita to her lips for a drink. “Case and point.” She sets her glass back on the table. “Who would have ever thought a place like The Rustic Ridge would have Champagne to make a special Galentine’s Day drink like a strawberry and Champagne margarita?”
“Dean said it was left over from New Year’s Eve.” Lainey lifts her strawberry Champagne margarita to her lips.
“Yeah, only because you asked where the Champagne was on New Year’s Eve morning?” The three of us turn to Marigold, trying to figure out how she would know what happened on New Year's Eve. Like the rest of us, she stayed home on New Year's Eve—all but Lainey, who was working. “What? Warren told me all about it at book club. He said Dean asked him to run to the liquor store and buy all the Champagne they had.”
“That doesn’t prove anything. Besides, when did we get off topic? We were discussing Ruby and her boss, not me and my boss.” Lainey glances behind her. “Speak of the devil, or, in this case, devils.” Esme, Marigold, and I follow her gaze to find Fletcher and Warren entering the bar.
The bar isn’t that crowded tonight. I’m sure everyone is waiting until tomorrow night for their special Valentine’s Day date. It looks like it’s only the single people out tonight, and there aren’t very many of us. But I’m still surprised to see Fletcher at the bar.
Fletcher looks our way with a nod, then takes a seat at the far end of the bar. Warren takes the seat next to him, his eyes never leaving mine. It takes him only two seconds to slide his gaze down my body, taking in my tight Galentine’s Day T-shirt, short net skirt, and pink high heels. A scowl mars his handsome face, and I want to shout to the bar that he is interested in me.
“He is definitely interested,” Marigold says loudly, and I’m afraid the whole bar heard her. “Go over and talk to him.” She makes a shooing motion with her hands almost falling out of her chair.
“Marigold, how much have you had to drink?” Esme helps Marigold regain her balance.
“Only this many,” Marigold says, holding up three fingers on one hand. Okay, not bad. “Plus this many.” She holds up three more fingers on her other hand.
“Marigold, what has gotten into you?” I ask, trying to change the subject.
“Certainly not, Warren.” She mumbles, thankful, low enough that he doesn’t hear, or at least I don’t think he does. “I’m tired of waiting for him to ask me out. I’m thinking about signing up with Aspen’s mail-order bride service. I love you guys, but I don’t want to spend another Valentine’s Day alone. None of us should.”
“She might be drunk, but she’s right,” Esme says, and I can see the loneliness in her eyes. Lainey, Marigold, and I might be single, but we at least have someone we're each interested in. Unlike Esme, who doesn’t seem interested in anyone, or at least hasn’t found anyone to be interested in.
“Fine, but you have to promise me you’ll help me find a new job when Fletcher fires me for coming on to him.”
“Yeah, like that’s going to happen.” Lainey snorts, drawing Dean’s attention away from Fletcher and Warren.
Ignoring her, I walk up to the bar, where Fletcher, Warren, and Dean are gathered. “Hey, Warren and Dean.” I try to sound casual, but as soon as I look at Fletcher, my bravado fades. “Fletcher.” My voice comes out too breathy, too husky. Fletcher must think so, too, since he’s giving me a strange look.
“Hey, Ruby. I’d better go check on the other end of the bar.” Dean walks to the other end of the bar and talks with a couple of guys.
“I should probably check on Marigold.” Warren stands and walks to the table I just left, leaving Fletcher and me alone.
“Here, take this seat.” Fletcher stands and moves to the second barstool from the wall, motioning for me to take the seat closest to the wall, so I do. I expect him to sit, but instead he stays standing, his much larger frame hovering over me and making me feel small, which isn’t a small feat. I’m a tall, curvy woman with a large chest, a small waist, and wide hips.
“Are you having fun tonight, Ruby?” He turns his body, blocking the rest of the bar from my view. I’m sure anyone looking in our direction would think Fletcher was by himself, standing oddly in the corner.
“It’s okay.” I shrug, trying to calm my racing heart as Fletcher fills the space between us, our bodies almost touching.
“What would make it better?” His cryptic questions are starting to unnerve me. I can’t tell if he’s flirting with me or if he’s just being nice.
“I don’t know.” I shrug again.
