by Vivien Vale
“I just need to grab a couple things,” I say, still directing my gaze towards my desk, and pointlessly shuffling papers.
“Sure,” he says lightly. Then, directing his gaze back to Fentress. “We’ll wait.”
A nervous laugh threatens to bubble up my throat, and I forcefully shove it back down.
“Okay,” I manage.
“Well,” Fentress chimes in. “If there’s nothing else, Ruby.”
Like there was something to begin with?
“No, we’re fine. Thank you, Mr. Fentress.”
He grunts as he rounds my desk again, heading for his office. I wait until I hear the click of his door to raise my head again.
Wyatt still gazes down at me, that smile drawing my eyes like a magnet.
“All set? Do you have a suitcase or anything?”
“Yeah, over here at my desk,” I answer, standing.
“I’ll get it.”
I watch as he grabs the overly full luggage, still unable to drag my eyes from him.
He’s huge, practically overburdened with muscles.
My pussy aches just looking at him, already soaking wet.
“Is this all?” he asks, holding the large luggage as if it weighs a mere pound.
“Yeah, that’s all.”
“Good,” Jake says. “Then let’s get the fuck out of here.”
I laugh and follow him to the door, still trying to peel my eyes away from the fantasy come to life that is Wyatt Lawrence.
He reaches the door before me, holding it open with his free hand.
I smile in thanks, nearly through the doorway before I realize what I’ve forgotten.
“Oh wait,” I turn, walking quickly back to my desk. Smiling like a fool, I grab my journal from the drawer.
Can’t forget this.
Chapter 8
Ruby
Wyatt opens the back passenger side door, gesturing me to climb in with a gentle wave of his hand.
I smile in return, trying my hardest to maintain my cool. But I can feel his intense stare on my back as I shift my body into a comfortable seated position.
Once I’m in, he closes the door and walks around the back of the SUV to toss my suitcase in the trunk.
I can finally breathe without him in my sight—and without me in his.
Digging through my purse in search of a pair of earbuds to distract myself while Jake and Wyatt bromance it up in the front, a yelp almost leaves my throat when I see Wyatt slide into the backseat beside me.
I stare at him unable to keep the confusion from my wide-eyed expression.
So much for playing it cool, Ruby.
He smiles a sexy, gorgeous smile—the one that got me into this trouble in the first place so many years ago.
“Is it okay if I sit here?” he asks, cynicism dripping from his tone, his smile unwavering.
Why am I acting so damn childishly? This guy is all I’ve ever wanted. Nervous or not, I’m gonna make my move.
I muster up my most confident tone and smile to match. “Sure.”
“I didn’t know I was playing the fucking chauffeur today,” Jake chides from the front seat, backing out of the parking spot.
“Oh Jacob, you needn’t worry, dear. There’s a nice tip in it for you once Mr. Lawrence and I arrive safely to our destination.” I reply in my best fancy British lady accent.
Jake wants to laugh. I can see it in his eyes through the mirror, but he gives me the finger instead.
Wyatt, on the other hand, seems to love my joke and that’s really the only confidence boost I need. His smile and slight chuckle make my afternoon.
When we look at each other, it almost feels like it would hurt to look away. Like maybe on some level we both know we were made for this. But we’re simply too afraid to acknowledge it.
Our love is forbidden. And it’s gonna get messy.
“Hey Wyatt, thanks for what you did back there,” I say, pointing out the window at nothing in particular. My eyes only leaving Wyatt’s for a split second to look at his lips.
That lingering heat rises between my legs again. I wish I could kiss him. Undress him. Explore him.
And maybe, most importantly, tell him how I’ve felt all these years. But this just isn’t the place. Shit, Jake would have a cow knowing how much I’ve been into Wyatt all this time.
The smile leaves Wyatt’s face replacing itself with that sexy, stern aggression he had while chastising Mr. Fentress. “That guy is a fucking creep, Ruby. I should have knocked him the fuck out. I don’t even know why I didn’t.”
Wyatt’s gone. His fists are tight, his jaw is clenched, and he’s staring angrily at the seat in front of him.
I didn’t know he was that upset. Fentress really is harmless to all women, except to his long-suffering wife, of course.
“There really wasn’t a need for that much. I think the intimidation was enough to set him straight,” I reassure him. “I really appreciate you stepping up though. I felt kind of like a deer in headlights with it all.”
I reach out and touch Wyatt’s arm, gently massaging it. After a few seconds, his fists loosen, and the scary intensity leaves his eyes.
“I’m just glad it wasn’t something worse. And I’m glad we arrived in time to help.” He puts a heavy hand over mine and smiles. “I still can’t get over how much you’ve grown up. It’s really crazy to think of how long it’s been. What the hell have you been up to all this time?”
I chuckle, this time without any nervousness as I search for the right words to say. “Well, I’m sure nothing I’ve done is nearly as interesting as the things you did to become a Navy SEAL.” He glances away briefly but looks back.
“After I finished high school, I went straight to college. I’m studying to be a paralegal.” He nods hanging onto my every word. “I paint when I’m not working or studying. It’s a nice way to just relax my mind, and add a little color to my world, ya know?”
“Yea, definitely. That’s cool. I mean, I don’t have a single creative bone in my body—”
Oh, I’m sure you can create a lot with at least one bone in your body.
“What kind of painting do you do?” he asks inquisitively.
“I’ve always loved doing abstract art with water colors. Sort of free form. But, lately, I’ve been playing around with oil paints and landscapes.” I pause, surprised to see Wyatt completely engrossed in what I’m saying. “My first was one of the lake and trees surrounding it on a trip I took alone last summer. The scene is still so calming, I—”
Jake interjects, “It’s so calming, I’m gonna fall asleep and kill us all.”
I roll my eyes as I hiss, “go to hell, Jake!”
Squeezing my hand, Wyatt tries to bring peace. “Hey, man, did you and your dad ever get around to fixing up the old swing by the lake?”
“Oh yea, it’s even better now. Dad and I fixed the old one and added a second swing right beside it.” Jake gets a hard on whenever he talks about doing manual labor. He sounds like a kid explaining his favorite video game, “You can swing over the lake and jump right in! Or if you’re anything like Princess Ruby, you’ll just sit on a swing,” Jake brings his voice up a few octaves trying to impersonate mine, “and write all your little feelings in your raggedy black book.”
I can’t help but laugh at my stupid older brother this time. He gets under my skin, but his Ruby voice is always so ridiculous, it cracks me up.
The three of us laugh together and exchange stories about old times. It has me in a really pleasant, really calm mood. That is until I check my phone.
I have a text from Mr. Fentress. I go ahead and open it.
“Come in early on Tuesday. You’ll have a lot to catch up on. We have five more cases booked.”
I roll my eyes as I lock the screen just when another comes through.
“I hope you’re enjoying your time in your bikini by the lake. Send me a picture.”
I gag, right there in the car. Jake glances through the rear view mirror
and Wyatt turns to me.
“Are you alright, Ruby?” he asks. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I lie. “We’re just going a little fast. Can we slow down just a tad?”
“Sure, Rubes. Sorry,” Jake says.
Our conversation of old times continues as we travel on to the lake house.
I relish hearing Jake and Wyatt talk about all the sneaky shit they got away with. Even more, I love thinking about all the sneaky shit Wyatt and I could get away with on this trip.
After being quiet for a few minutes, Wyatt nudges my knee and mouths ‘are you okay?’, while Jake is going on a tangent about some high school football game.
I nod my head.
In return, he winks and immediately floods my panties.
I want him. Better yet, I need him.
“And then I got kicked off the team for punching that asshole in the face!” Jake exclaims. “He oughta be lucky that’s all I did!”
This is a story Jake has rehashed a good forty times and he still gets just as worked up as the day it happened.
“Oh, the injustice!” I exclaim. Of course, my pity is pure sarcasm.
Wyatt laughs. “You weren’t there, that kid really had it comin’.”
“Thanks, bruh,” Jake says.
Looking out the window, I squeal. “We’re just a few miles away!”
I fall into my own daydreams while the guys complain about how long the ride has been, even though I know we’re at least twenty minutes ahead of mom and dad.
I sit quietly the rest of the way just thinking about my goal this summer: to create a whole new entry in that damn journal of things Wyatt and I have really done.
Chapter 9
Wyatt
Ruby stands on the tips of her toes trying to reach my height to no avail. She’s fooling herself if she thinks she’s nearly as tall as I am. That’s okay, though; her head is the perfect height to lay against my chest.
We’re standing outside Jake’s car, facing the lake house. “Is it anything like you remember?” she asks in a sweet, hushed tone.
Without looking at her, I smile at the question and the view of the house, sitting beautifully with trees and mountains framing it in the background.
I furrow a brow, thinking about it. Reminiscing. Enjoying it.
I remember being young telling myself I’d make enough money to build a house just like it to end up in. I’d grill steaks while Ruby sat and watched with our baby in her lap…
Fuck. No. Too much, Wyatt. Too much, too soon.
Jake briefly disturbs our view and my thoughts by running onto the large, wrap-around porch screaming, “Gotta pee! Gotta pee!” while struggling to unlock the door.
Rowdy follows behind him, wagging his tail playfully as though it’s a game. What a good boy, always leaving me entertained like this.
Ruby and I share a laugh at his expense before I answer her question.
“It is,” I reply, finally turning to face her. “Exactly.” Her small calves give out and she clumsily shifts back onto flat feet.
This would be the perfect moment for a kiss. But what kind of problems would that cause? I’m not fit for such a good woman. I don’t ever want to hurt her.
And with as much as she’s been hinting at me, I still can’t help but think she’s just being nice to me with her little smirks and flirty eyes. I don’t know how I could handle that blatant rejection if she’s not interested. It’s best to just not do this right now.
Sensing my need for affection, for her affection, Ruby leans her head on my arm, a warm breeze pushing her soft, fruit-scented hair into my face. This only increases my silent suffering, and leaves me little glimmers of hope that I’m right about her.
“Let’s go in!” she skips ahead of me as I take the scene in once more, remembering my first time standing in front of this house.
It’s still big. It’s still beautiful. And I’m sure Mrs. Watson has redecorated it a million times. Keeping it fresh and stylish like one of those five-star luxury hotel cabins, but it doesn’t feel as big today as it did to me that first time.
I’m no longer overwhelmed by it all. I just feel at home here. I could easily buy a house just like it.
Ruby pokes her head out the front door, probably wondering what’s keeping me. I smile, hoping to assure her. She smiles back, and disappears off into the house.
I’d always wanted a woman I didn’t have to explain my every little damn thought to. And Ruby seems to know how to read me like no one else.
I just need a minute to soak in the clean, crisp air now that I’m far from the city and from combat. The quiet here is pleasant, not eerie like it’s been at home.
I’m hoping the anxiety, sleepless nights, and nightmares haven’t followed me. That somehow, the tranquility can overpower what’s in my brain.
When I enter the house, Jake and Ruby are nowhere in sight. I’m sure they’re off somewhere bickering over something or another.
That’s the one thing I’ve never missed about having a sibling of my own. There’s always something to bitch at one another about.
Rowdy finds me relaxing on a leather recliner in the living room. He positions himself against my legs. The curtains are drawn, probably because no one has been here. But I know the windows in this room have the best view of the mountains.
I breathe deeply while nothing but happy memories crowd my mind in bunches. It feels nice.
Mr. and Mrs. Watson always treated me like I was one of their kids. They never addressed me with pity or even excessive kindness.
I was always equal to Jake and Ruby, and not just at the lake house. They’d invite me to their home for dinner most nights because they knew there was no one in my house to look after me.
The Watsons are the parents I’ve never had. I would kill for them.
Mr. Watson taught me how to be a man and how to build things, just like he’d done with Jake. He’d helped us train to get on the Junior Varsity football team when we were high school freshmen.
I’m not that helpless kid anymore. I’ve got my own money now. But I will never forget all the kindness they showed me.
I wonder whether I could ever make them proud.
How could I after what I’d done?
I can’t think about this shit. I need a damn drink.
Instead, I make my way to the back of Jake’s truck to grab both my and Ruby’s bags. Jake’s a big boy; he can handle his own.
Just as I close the trunk, I see lights approaching me from behind. I dive to the ground in search of my hidden weapon. I can’t find it.
Shit!
I try not to panic. I jump to my feet prepared to meet the enemy face to face. Ready to fight or even die like a goddamn man for my country.
“Oh, my goodness, look at you!” Mrs. Watson runs to me with outstretched arms, pulling me into her embrace. “Honey, Wyatt is a grown man! Look at him!” She swiftly turns to her husband, still squeezing me.
“You look great, son, I’m proud of you.” Mrs. Watson stands aside so her husband can hug me. Our hug is quick and firm.
“What were you doing on the ground there?” he asks with furrowed salt and pepper brows.
“I was, uh, getting the bags from the trunk and thought I had dropped something,” I smile. “I must still be tired from the ride because nothing was there.”
“Of course. Of course,” Mr. Watson replies, squeezing my shoulder. “If I had a nickel for every time—”
His thoughts trail off.
As we walk into the house, Mr. Watson proudly tells me about the projects he and Jake have worked on over the years. But it’s difficult to listen once we enter.
Ruby and Jake are sitting in the living room floor like little kids, playing with Rowdy. This is my first time getting a good look at her without the distractions of keeping old ass scum bags away or trying to impress her.
She is stunning, sexy, and just breathtaking. Her hair is pulled away from her face into a loose ponytail, showing of
f the most beautiful chocolate brown eyes I’d ever seen.
And now that she’s changed from her work clothes and into shorts and a tank top, I can finally take in her fully grown perfect form.
I’d love to feel her long, slender legs wrapped around my waist while I push my cock deeper and deeper into her. She’d moan into my mouth while we kiss and I make her mine.
She wouldn’t want another man after having my cock.
Her infectious laugh fills the house while she and Jake pass Rowdy’s favorite ball back and forth. Rowdy seems to love her, which is a bonus.
Do I love her?
Could she love me for what I really am?
I grimace at the possibility, but I find myself wanting the answer more and more with every second that goes by.
Chapter 10
Ruby
“You’re such a good boy. Yes, you are!” I croon to Rowdy in my most ridiculous baby voice.
At this point, Jake is probably about to puke. But I don’t care. I’m milking this; we never had a dog when we were growing up, and Rowdy really is cute as hell.
I hear my parents step in with Wyatt, but I haven’t yet figured out how to be around them without flirting with him. I don’t want shit to get awkward, so I’ve been pretending it’s just been Jake, Rowdy, and me here.
That’s safe enough for now.
Rowdy seems to have lost interest in playing with Jake and me. He’s stopped trying to take his ball from us.
“See, he’s sick of your stupid baby voices, too,” Jake remarks.
“Fuck off, dickface,” I snap back. My brother and I are notorious for our loving attitude towards one another.
Living up to his name, or maybe just not wanting to stick around for another sibling dispute, Rowdy takes off running into the opposite side of the room, where Wyatt is sitting with Mom and Dad.
Oddly enough, Wyatt doesn’t seem to notice his dog is trying get his attention. He’s staring—ugh, Jake better not be doing anything embarrassing behind my back.
I turn, ready to accuse him, but he’s on his phone, scrolling through Instagram. Still assuming I can’t be the one this big, gorgeous man can’t take his eyes off from, I look around the room. But no, there’s nothing nearby that would snatch his attention.
