When she laughed, I wanted to be the source.
And when she made that groaning noise she did when I rubbed her feet, I wanted her to groan for another reason.
I was an absolute mess, and there was no going back.
When Zach first insinuated that I was developing real feelings for his sister, I thought he was crazy. There was no way that was happening. Ruby and I were friends who were going to raise a baby together. That meant little Rexanne—I wasn’t giving that up no matter what—was going to have the best of both worlds. She was going to have parents who enjoyed spending time together, who would both show up for every school pageant and play, and who could retreat to separate suites if they were irritated with one another.
Our child would never hear us argue. She would never see us fall out of love … if we even got to that point in our relationship. She would never enjoy the security of a two-parent household and then have it yanked away. We would raise her in two households and that would be her norm. She would always feel secure.
The more I thought about what Zach said—ignoring the teasing way he delivered the news of course—the more I started to wonder if he was right. When I looked at Ruby, I felt more than friendship. That’s why I’d gone to her the way I had. We talked about everything, so we should talk about that too. I was determined.
She’d shut me down like she was an inspector from the health department and I was running a kitchen with cockroach sous chefs. She hadn’t been mean about it. She’d been practical. Ruby was always practical, so it wasn’t a surprise that she’d gone this route today.
I was still annoyed.
At first, I agreed with her. She was right. I was being impulsive, and a good father was never impulsive. He was thoughtful and measured in his approach to things. He didn’t suggest dating his child’s mother while rubbing her puffy feet and giving her a stuffed bear as a gift.
I figured I would slowly come to not only accept what Ruby had told me but also agree with it. There was just one little problem.
I was off the rails. Instead of my feelings for Ruby disappearing into the friendship we’d built over the course of twenty years, they were growing exponentially. I went warm all over when I saw her. Little Rex—not that he’s little or anything—stood up and saluted when she made her groaning noises when I was rubbing her feet. He wanted to do a little dance, like the showgirls who kept sliding numbers in my direction when I was out on the casino floor.
All those numbers went into the trash. I didn’t even consider keeping them. I didn’t care about the showgirls … and how had that even happened? It was ridiculous. I was a guy who liked showgirls. I liked the feathers … and the sequins … and the body glitter that lingered for months after in my bed.
Except you haven’t been with a showgirl in seven months,my inner voice reminded me.Even before your night with Ruby, you were starting to wind down.
And that was the thing I really couldn’t get past. My celibate lifestyle was giving me a sort of clarity I didn’t even know I was capable of. Now when I looked back on the months between Ryder Stone being ousted from the casino and knocking up his daughter, I realized I was already changing. It was already in motion. I simply hadn’t realized it until now.
I blamed Zach and Livvie. They were so happy, so giddily in love, they flipped some sort of switch in my head. They made me want that for myself. I wanted someone to curl up with on the couch and binge watch bad television with. Not reality television or anything—I was convinced that reality television would lead to the downfall of civilization—but things like old episodes ofLost, Manifest, andStranger Things. I wanted someone to have a nice dinner with, but not necessarily in a suit. I wanted someone to complain about my day with before sneaking down to the private pool for a quick naked swim.
Not only did I want those things, but I also knew exactly who I wanted with me when it happened. Ruby’s dark hair—supposedly rapid hair growth was normal during pregnancy—made regular appearances in my dreams. It fluttered against my cheek and spread out like a dark halo when she fell asleep on my chest. My hands itched to grab a handful of that hair and?—
“What are you doing?” Cal popped up at my left, drawing me out of my reverie.
I’d been staring blankly across the casino floor for a good ten minutes. Why? Because every day—every single day for the last three weeks—Ruby made her way down to the ice cream shop at three o’clock on the dot so she could splurge on frozen yogurt. Only Ruby would consider frozen yogurt a splurge. I’d tried to talk her into going for a hot fudge sundae with all the fixings—and real freaking ice cream—but she just frowned and explained the difference in calories and fat between frozen yogurt and ice cream. It was annoying.
“Just hanging out,” I lied.
“Uh-huh.” Cal smirked. “It’s getting to be about that time, isn’t it?”
“And what time is that?” I challenged.
“About the time when Ruby shows up for her cup of vanilla frozen yogurt. She does know that place has hot fudge and sprinkles, right? She’s doing it all wrong.”
I wanted to choke him for saying Ruby did anything wrong. She was perfect. Perfectly annoying. I managed to hold it together, though. Just barely.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lied.
As if on cue, the elevator doors slid open at that moment to allow Ruby to stroll off. She lived in yoga pants and leggings at this point, topping off both with oversized shirts. She didn’t want to wear a skirt because she thought it drew attention to her ankles and feet. She didn’t want to wear jeans because she swore up and down whoever had invented waistbands without elastic was the devil. She’d also stopped wearing makeup for the most part. She said it irritated her skin.
She was still the most breathtaking woman I’d ever seen.
I’d grown up knowing that Ruby was hot. Heck, all of Zach’s sisters were lookers. His mindset of “ooh, gross, they’re my sisters” had rubbed off on me at a young age, however. The fact that Ruby was beautiful had been lost in a sea of sarcasm and snottiness over the years. Now that she was carrying my baby, all I could see when I looked at her was abject beauty.
“Oh, look at that,” Cal drawled. His gaze—and annoying smile—were on Ruby as she walked toward the ice cream shop. She’d looked in our direction, as if she’d been expecting me, and waved. She wasn’t alone, though. She had Livvie with her today. They kept going toward the ice cream shop, their giggles floating across the crowd and stabbing me in the heart.
“Right on time,” Cal mused. “Fancy that.” His eyes were devilish when they turned in my direction. “She looks pretty today. That pink color looks good on her.”
I gritted my teeth to keep from exploding. “Don’t you have something to do,” I challenged. It wasn’t a question.
