Ruby leaned over the counter, studying the photographs. Each piece had a story, a history. She could feel the pull of them, the way they called to something in her that had been dormant for too long.
“These are beautiful,” she murmured.
“Aren't they? The collector had impeccable taste.” Noah's smile was wistful. “Reminds me of someone I used to know. Had that same eye for beauty in unexpected places.”
“That's exactly it,” Ruby said, surprised by how much this stranger understood. “Most people walk right past beauty because they're not looking for it. But it's everywhere if you pay attention.”
“Exactly! You get it. Most folks come in here looking for something specific. But the real magic is in discovering what you didn't know you were looking for.”
Noah paused and looked at Ruby with understanding that felt almost paternal. “You're an artist, aren't you?”
“How did you—”
“The way you look at things. Like you're seeing past the surface to what's underneath.” He smiled. “I've been doing this long enough to recognize it.”
Ruby felt seen in a way that was both uncomfortable and thrilling. “I paint. Sometimes. When I can.”
“Then you need to see this collection. Trust me. It'll inspire you.”
Ruby glanced back at Celeste, who was standing by the door with her arms crossed, clearly trying to be patient and failing. She and Noah discussed the subject of spending the night in Aqua vista some more, before she crossed over to Celeste, gently taking her by the elbow and tugging her away from Noah’s earshot. Celeste's arm was warm under her touch, solid and real, and Ruby was acutely aware of how close they were standing.
“We should stay.”
“Here? Overnight?” Celeste's eyes widened. “Ruby, we have a hotel reservation waiting for us.”
“We can find another hotel tomorrow evening.” Ruby knew she was pushing, but something in her chest was insistent, as it often occurred when she came across new antique items to potentially keep. “Please. I know it's asking a lot, but this matters to me.”
“Why?”
“I just—” Ruby let out a sigh. “I need to see it. The art, the antiques, all of it. I can't explain why, but I do. It’s just who I am.”
Celeste studied her face, and Ruby felt exposed under that sharp, intelligent gaze. Like Celeste could see past her to something deeper underneath.
“This is important to you,” Celeste said. Not a question.
“Yeah.”
Celeste closed her eyes briefly, and Ruby watched her internal debate play out across her features.
Ruby held her breath, waiting.
Chapter Seven
Celeste
“Noah has a room upstairs,” Ruby explained further, her hand still on Celeste's wrist. “Above the store. He uses it sometimes when he works late, but he lives in town with his family. He said we could stay there tonight.”
Celeste was annoyed. She’d found herself calculating exactly how far behind schedule this put them, how many adjustments she'd need to make to her already planned itinerary. And then, like a switch, all she could focus on subsequently was the spot where Ruby's fingers pressed against her skin, the touch gentle but grounding.
She pulled her wrist back, folding her arms across her chest like armor. “You'd better make this worth it. You owe me more than lunch now.”
Ruby's eyes held hers, something flickering in their depths. “I'm really good at paying back debts.”
The words landed between them with unexpected weight. Celeste felt goosebumps rise along her arms, her skin suddenly too sensitive. Was that charged, or was she imagining things? Reading intention into a simple statement because she wanted it to be there?
She looked away first, pretending to have sudden interest in a display of vintage cameras. Her pulse was doing something erratic that had no business happening in a dusty antique store.
“Well then,” Noah said, clapping his hands together. “Since you ladies are staying, you absolutely must let me take you to lunch. I insist. Millie's makes the best chicken parm this side of the Mississippi, and I won't hear any arguments.”
