Rubi swerved to miss a box in the road, throwing Carolyn into Bobby and putting an end to her singing. “The sun’s already down sweetie.” She smirked at the two of them blushing and trying not to make eye contact in the back seat.
“Come on—you want to, you know it,” pressed Melanie.
“I can’t.”
“Can’t admit it or can’t kiss him?” she asked.
“Either or both. Definitely both.”
Melanie rolled her eyes. “Fine but I’m done living vicariously through you.”
Rubi snorted. “I’m kissing Beau Mckay in three days. Will that make you happy?”
Melanie considered this new information. “Nope. That’s a screen kiss. I want the real thing this time.”
“The real thing won’t have cameras to record it for you.”
Melanie folded her arms and glared out the window. “Killjoy.”
Rubi huffed. “Sorry, guys. As soon as we corner Trent I’m headed out.” The sooner that happened, the better. She wasn’t going to be able to stay strong much longer.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Cash unlocked the front door, grateful the porch light wasn’t on. Standing here, with Rubi, on his doorstep was tempting in all the worst ways. Especially since she was coming inside with him.
His nerves a jumble and his thoughts going to places they shouldn’t, Cash crashed through the door and tripped over carpet. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“It’s fine.” Rubi glided in, her arms close to her side. Her diamond-studded gray eyes took in his modest home with interest. She lingered over the painted bass mounted above the fireplace and the rustic coffee table he’d made from two-by-fours and one-by-sixes.
Cash tried to see it through her eyes, but all he could see was the rumpled sheets Trent left on the couch. He tossed his keys on the shelf by the door and hurried across the room. “Sorry, ’bout this. I’ll just ” He ripped the soiled sheets off the bed and kicked Trent’s duffel bag into the coat closet. He pulled a fresh set of sheets off the top shelf. When he turned around, Rubi was right there.
“I can help.” Her cheeks dusted pink. “I mean, can I help you with that?”
Cash breathed in her complicated, intoxicating scent. “Sure. I. Um. Sure.”
She went to the far end of the couch, catching the end of the sheet and spreading it out across the cushions while he did the same on the other end. Each time their eyes met, fire swept through his veins, urging him to douse the flames with a goodnight kiss that lasted until the sun came up. He held his breath, hoping to smother the need to be near her.
Backing up, he clamped his hand around his bedroom door knob, anchoring his body in place. “The bathroom is there.” He tipped his head toward the open door. “Kitchen’s that way.” He continued the directions with a nod of his head. “And there’s an extra blanket in that chest in the corner if you’re cold.” Images of wrapping up in said blanket on the front porch swing with Rubi in his arms had him digging his fingers into the wood even as he leaned forward.
Rubi took a step his way.
“Good night,” he blurted.
She stopped. “’Night.”
Cash closed his door and sagged against it, his muscles giving way as if he’d run a dozen miles.
Was he proud of himself? Yes.
Was he content? Not at all.
With determination, he settled into his queen-sized bed, where he proceeded to toss and turn. Every squeak of the couch cushions and rustle of the blankets made its way through his too-thin door. He dug his fingers into his hair, cursing the builder and his cheap doors.
When he’d finally dozed into a restless sleep, he was seized from slumber by a scream and a curse. Running pell-mell, he smacked into his closed door before yanking it open to find Rubi on one end of the couch, clutching the blanket to her chest, and Trent standing over her.
He yanked Trent back by the shoulder. “What are you doin’?”
“I’m tryin’ to go to bed, but there’s a monster in it.” He laughed at his own joke.
