“I messed up.” His voice is low. He can’t even look at me.
“Yeah. No shit. You don’t deserve her, Connor. Leave her the fuck alone.”
His jaw clenches, and he puffs out his chest like he’s trying to intimidate me, but the only reason he’s taller than me right now is because I’m two steps below him. “You just want her for yourself.”
I don’t bother to deny the accusation. Ruby means something to me, but it doesn’t matter. She’s meant for great things, and I’m just a lost soul looking for a purpose.
“I don’t deserve her either.”
Connor will be graduating soon. For the last decade, my identity has been tied up in raising him. Being the father figure he needed. Without that, I don’t know who I am anymore.
Not sparing Connor another glance, I walk back to my truck and put it in drive. “Where do you wanna go, Goldie?”
“Anywhere but here.”
Chapter 5
Backroads & Headlights
? Body Like A Back Road - Sam Hunt
Present day
Ruby
Walking into The Ridge is a bit like traveling back in time, only it’s a far cry from the small town dive bar it once was. I still remember sneaking in here with a fake ID back when there was still Thursday night line dancing and a shoddy mechanical bull named Rusty.
The space has been updated in recent years, with a mix of industrial and rustic decor. The bar top itself is of one those live-edge things, like they sliced a tree down the middle lengthwise.
There’s an exposed brick wall behind the bar, with shelves of neatly lined bottles of liquor. Above the top shelf hangs a gallery of black and white portraits—the town’s glory days. Those pictures have been here for as long as I can remember.
When I left here almost ten years ago, it was Connor’splan to someday buy this place. Now he’s long gone, and I’m staring at his brother from across the bar. Liam’s green eyes meet mine. Time slows.
“Hey, Goldie.” His gruff voice is like a fist squeezing my heart, momentarily stopping it from beating. He rolls up his sleeves, giving me a peek at the mix of floral and geometric tattoos along his forearms. It’s not the first time I’ve seen them, but they make me fucking feral every time. How far do they travel? Does he have tattoos anywhere else?
I prop myself on one of the stools, leaning my elbows on the bar. “Hey, Liam. Can I get a lemon drop shot and a…”
“Ruby Tuesday?”
“How did you know?”
“Some things never change.” His mouth pulls into a thin line, and he raps his knuckles on the bar, slinging a towel over his shoulder. Everything he does is so smooth, I manage to lose myself as he moves around the bar, making my drinks.
Distracted, I almost miss the group of young women approaching. They’re dressed to the nines and barely legal by the looks of them. Definitely not from around here.
“Oh my god, are you Ruby Lynn Hayes?”
They seem pleasant enough, so I offer them a polite smile but keep my guard up. “I am.”
“Is it true you dated Nicholas Riley?”
I resist the urge to groan. Nick and I dated for a few months as a publicity stunt after he went off the rails on some European press tour for one of his movies. I tried to refuse, but there was some bullshit clause in my contract that apparently divested me of my own fucking free will.
“I’m sorry, I don’t like to discuss my personal life.”
After years in the entertainment industry, I’ve learned to keep my responses short and concise. There’s a fine line between innocent questions and prying. Oftentimes, if you give an inch, they’ll expect a mile.
They balk as if I have no right to privacy. Luckily, Liam saves me from an awkward conversation when he returns with my drinks.
