Winning Ruby Heart

by Jennifer Lohmann

When Patrice reached them, Ruby was holding both her arms out for a hug. “Thank you again for your help,” Ruby said. “Are you doing okay?”

  Patrice looked up from her curious glance at Micah to answer Ruby’s question. “Yeah, this was my first fifty-miler and I ran above my pace for most of it. I hit a wall at mile forty and limped my way to the finish. Which, of course, means I finished after my goal.”

  Ruby laughed. “I sympathize, but sometimes the finishing has to be accomplishment enough.”

  “I’ll try to remember that, even though I don’t think you hold yourself to that standard.”

  “No.” The words came out behind a chuckle. “Not usually, but it’s good to say.” Patrice’s gaze had gone back to eyeing Micah. Ruby remembered that she hadn’t yet introduced them. “Micah Blackwell, meet Patrice. Micah, Patrice is the woman who looked me over for injuries after helping me up off the asphalt.”

  “Nice to meet you, Patrice,” Micah said.

  “Oh.” Patrice seemed to have just noticed Micah’s face. “Didn’t you... I mean...” Patrice stopped talking, and by the look on her face Ruby could tell she was trying to place distant bits of past gossip and news together. “Right. I don’t generally like sports casting, but I’ve enjoyed many of your interviews.”

  “Thanks,” he said, before turning to Ruby. “Come on, let’s go get some dinner and I’ll drive us back to the hotel.”

  They said their goodbyes, and Patrice and Ruby exchanged phone numbers. “If you need me for anything,” Ruby said, hugging the woman one more time.

  Micah and Ruby were headed to his car when she said, “One of these days, I’m going to drive and you’ll sit in the passenger seat.”

  “I like to be in control. I won’t pretend otherwise.” He shrugged.

  “Has your controlling mind come up with dinner plans yet?”

  “No,” he said with a smile and those deep dimples. “She who expended the most calories gets to decide how to replace them. But I did investigate your options. Pizza or burgers.”

  “Pizza, then.” Ruby brushed Micah’s shoulder with her hand and the warmth of him pushed away the last of her postrace chills.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  RUBY WAS STIFF as she walked down the hotel hallway ahead of Micah and their dinner. His chair made a noise she hadn’t expected on the tight, low carpeting. Actually, she didn’t know what kind of noise she thought a wheelchair would make. But the long, low sound of the chair, the institutional smell of the hotel fighting with the spiciness of the pizza and the din of the fluorescent lights highlighted how unreal this entire day felt.

  A push by one stranger and a rescue by another. Micah and dinner in her hotel room. And she wasn’t glad Micah was here because she was lonely and wanted company, but because she wanted his company. It put a whole different spin on things, this spending time with someone because you wanted to.

  Old Ruby Heart hadn’t spent much time reveling in her successes. She hugged her mom at the end of a race, then immediately reevaluated her strategy, training and caloric intake. An unasked question always accompanied her mom’s hug: What if I don’t win another race?

  She hadn’t won this fifty-mile race. And she was unlikely to win the hundred-mile race she’d signed up for. Yet Micah was here, with her, just the same.

  The point wasn’t whether or not she liked winning, because she did, but whether or not her life depended on it. And it didn’t.

  She would work on a training schedule in the morning for the hundred-mile race she intended to win next fall. Or maybe she’d wait a couple of days before she thought about her next race. Because she had a life to live right now, and winning was only a small part of it. Perhaps when the NSN series was over, Micah could be a larger part of this life. His solidness could become a constant presence.

  She stuck her key into the door and opened it. The light from the overly bright bulb in the bedside lamp glinted off the golden highlights in Micah’s hair as he went past her into her room.

  “No dinner table in this room,” he said, his words shrinking the room around them until she could feel his breathing deep in her bones.

  “No. Just a desk, the two beds and a television. Bare bones down here in Missouri.” A couch would have been nice. She wanted to sit down, and sitting on the bed with Micah seemed...well, the ideas that single piece of furniture put in her head loomed large in the tight space. Even larger because she wasn’t sure of Micah’s feelings and wasn’t sure how sex would or could happen. If she knew the answer to the first question, she’d feel confident enough to ask the answer to the second.

  And this all assumed that she wouldn’t fall asleep the instant she was in any position other than standing. She stood, not sure what to do with her hands because the pizza box was on Micah’s lap, held there by his large, strong hands. Her head darted up and she looked around the room.

  “Which bed are you sleeping in?”

  “That one.” She pointed to the bed closest to the window.

  “Okay. That desk will make using my chair as a dining seat difficult and you don’t want to sleep on pizza crumbs. So we’ll have a little bed picnic here—” he gestured to the bed closest to the door “—and we can move to the other bed to watch SportsDaily. Go shower. I’ll wait for you. And then you can serve me dinner.” Their hands brushed as she took the pizza box that he shoved into her hands. The secrets in his smile made her shiver. “I like the idea of America’s Darling serving me dinner.”

  Her awkwardness and fatigue had been replaced by a heightened awareness of Micah and his movements. Nonchalance was getting harder and harder to fake. “I’m hardly America’s Darling anymore.”

  “You’re darling enough,” he said as he transitioned from his chair to the bed. Despite having seen him transition several times, the grace of his movements still struck her. Silly, because he had been paralyzed for ten years, and before that he’d been a quarterback known for his grace on the field. No reason to think his athleticism would disappear with the use of his legs.

  He had scooted up, his back against the headboard, when she realized what he’d said. “What did you mean by that? ‘You’re darling enough’?”

  “Exactly what I said. No matter what the rest of the world thinks, I like you. Anyone who doesn’t like you is missing out.”

  Ruby left it at that. She rushed through her shower, Micah’s words louder than the sound of the water pressure as it beat against the tile. She was off balance when she got out of the bathroom as she fumbled with the pizza box while she plated. The room was still small, but Micah’s words meant her world had gotten a whole lot bigger. “How many pieces do you want?”

  He laughed. “I was going to tease you for running away when I said I liked you, but you came back, so I’ll tease you for thinking only of pizza instead.”

  “I’m still thinking about what you said. And I need food.”

  “Don’t think too much, Ruby. There are more fun ways for us to get in trouble together.” His half smile eased some of the tension in her body, and he gestured for his plate. “Two, for starters. I may have you get me more, though.”

  She set their plates on the bedside table. His breath brushed her face as she crawled over him to the other side of the bed. She stilled, straddling him on her hands and knees, their faces only inches apart. The small streak of foundation still dotted his chin. Funny, she’d never thought of the attraction of a man in makeup.

  Sitting back on her heels, she reached out with her thumb and touched the spot of makeup. His skin was smooth and his jaw sharp. Her breathing slowed. Her heart raced. The corners of the room blurred before fading completely as Micah took over her world. When she’d rubbed the makeup off, she leaned forward again, desperate for the connection of his mouth to hers. Her knee hit the remote and the SportsDaily intro music made them both jump. A remind
er of the real world—and their bargain.

  “This is a rerun from last night. It’s too early for your story to be on.” His breath danced on her neck. Lips fluttered across hers. “And if you’re not ready to eat, I can think of more fun ways to pass the time than watching NSN.”

  Temptation. She slid off him to the rough polyester of the comforter.

  “I don’t know why I had to serve the pizza, since I’m the one who ran fifty miles,” she said after he handed her a plate.

  Micah put his pizza slice down onto the plate and looked at her, the charm she’d come to expect from him when they were alone replaced by the tangible pull on her soul that had marked their interviews. She knew he wielded the same magnetism against all his interview subjects, but somehow it seemed to affect her at the cellular level.

  “Because you don’t expect to have to serve me. And so I’ll let you.”

  Like he had at the last race, Micah took charge of the conversation, though this time he never let the conversation ease her anticipation. Or maybe she was too keyed up for even the magic of Micah to work its spell.

  Despite her fatigue, Ruby’s eyes were wide-open. And she was functional enough to eat four slices of pizza. Physical exhaustion also didn’t stop her from noticing the fine hairs on Micah’s wrists as he took a bite of his pizza. Or the way he ate to the very edge of his crust but didn’t eat the crust. Or how his tongue licked sauce from the corner of his mouth.

  Ruby slid off the bed to throw away their plates and get Micah another beer. She got water for herself. Beer sounded good, but a second one was liable to hit her upside the head like a shot put to the jaw.

  Micah’s neatly trimmed nails stood out against the dark brown of the beer bottle as he wrapped his hand around his drink. He had hair that never seemed to grow longer and a face that never seemed to need shaving. He was precise, without being uptight or oppressive about it. The kind of person who would make you want to be precise, as well.

  “You have the hots for me, Ruby Heart,” he said, eyeing her over his beer bottle. “Don’t think I can’t tell.”

  “I...” But denying the truth was stupid. “Sure.”

  “Are you going to do something about it?”

  She had to put her glass on the nightstand before she dropped it from coughing. When she looked at him, her eyes were watering and she still couldn’t speak, but the confusion must have been obvious in her eyes because he shrugged and said, “Or we could not do something about it.”

  When she was finally able to say something, she asked, “What about all that stuff you said about conflict of interest?”

  “Yup. I said that.”

  “You still believe it?”

  “I do. And I also believe that seeing your scraped-up legs and bruised face was one of the scariest moments of my life.” His eyes slipped over her body, leaving goose bumps in their wake. “The conflict of interest already exists. I might as well enjoy the benefits.”

  “Rationalization and I used to be good friends, but he got me into a lot of trouble.” The bed shifted and creaked as she moved to sit cross-legged. “I stay away from that crowd as much as possible now.”

  “But you’re interested.”

  His arm muscles flexed as he lifted over her. The tendons in his neck stretched tight with pleasure. Grunts, moans and nails digging into skin. Any sex they had would be...athletic. Yeah, that seemed to be the right word. And therein lay an easy excuse to put him off. And the troubles that anything he suggested might cause her heart. “I don’t have the energy for anything I’m interested in.”

  “Are you awake?”

  “Yes,” she said, suspicious. “Though shouldn’t more be expected of me?”

  “And you’re likely to remain awake?”

  “Until I fall asleep. And,” she said, holding up one finger in warning, “I don’t want you to think that me falling asleep couldn’t happen at any time. Because it could. And without warning.” At least she hoped it could, because her body really needed it, no matter that her brain was up to running another fifty miles.

  “Your body looks like it could melt into a puddle, but I’ve got to say, your eyes look wide-awake.”

  She eyed him, still not sure what his point was.

  “Here’s the thing. We could scoot over to the sleeping bed, turn on the television and I can find something boring enough to put you right to sleep. Or I can help you relax another way. I’m voting for option two.”

  “Do I get to know what option two is before I choose?”

  If his smile was any indication, option two would turn her into a pile of goo. “I’ve got strong hands and a quick tongue. What more do you need to know about option two?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  MICAH DIDN’T NEED to actually follow through with his words, because Ruby was pretty sure she was already a pile of goo. Strong hands and a quick tongue. Her insides didn’t know whether to combust or melt. Given the number of butterflies in her stomach, they were leaning toward combustion. The very core of her, on the other hand, might melt before explosions could detonate.

  “And your conflict of interest?” At this point she was only offering up obstacles as a matter of course. Unless he got into his wheelchair and left her room, she was picking option two.

  “We’re at a cheap hotel in the middle of nowhere in Missouri. Who’s going to know?”

  Ruby remembered a similar argument being made by her coach. “I will. You will.”

  “I’ll also know what you taste like. And if I die tomorrow, that’s more important to me right now.”

  Her resistance melted to a puddle on the floor. “Option two,” she said. She’d be a fool to turn down strong hands and a quick tongue.

  Though she was also probably a fool not to.

  “I get to be the boss for the rest of the night.”

  “From now until I fall asleep,” she said, unwilling to cede too much power to him.

  “Oh, I’m not worried about that until I’m done. And then I promise you’ll sleep like a baby.”

  “Okay.”

  Micah folded his arms across his chest, surveying the room and all that was in it. Supposedly it was her room, but Micah owned any room he went into, and this hotel room was no exception. “Take off your clothes and fold down the sheets. Then get into bed. I’ll join you there.”

  “In that order?”

  “I said I’m the boss.”

  “Okay, boss. How quickly am I to accomplish these tasks?”

  “You can take as long as you want, but option two doesn’t start until you’re on that bed, naked, with your legs spread wide.”

  “No foreplay?”

  His raised eyebrow was enough to scoot her off the bed. “Do you need foreplay?”

  The bed skirt brushed the tops of her bare feet, but that wasn’t what sent shivers down her spine. No, between the hardness of her nipples poking against her T-shirt and the dampness between her legs, the foreplay was already happening.

  “Well?” He looked both expectant and as if she’d disappointed him by not being naked already.

  “Ask and you shall receive.” She tried to tell herself that she was lifting her shirt slowly as a tease and as a way to prove further control over her own body, but really it was because she was too sore to move quickly. Whatever her reasons, the short tease must have been effective, because Micah let out a sigh that rippled through her own skin as soon as her T-shirt hit the floor.

  Even though she was feeling a little wobbly on her feet, she stayed standing and well in Micah’s sight line as she stripped her shorts from her body. Warm fingers touched the inside of her thighs when she turned to pull the sheets down. Micah’s fingers drew a light line up her thigh, tracing around the underside of her buttocks and then back, grazing the soft folds between her
legs. She pulsed in response. When she looked over her shoulder, his eyes were focused on something she couldn’t see and he had the otherworldly look of someone mesmerized.

  How much more than I like you had been beneath the surface of his teasing and flirtations over the past couple months?

  She slapped his hand away, unwilling to think too much about the look of rapture on his face and what that meant. This was supposed to be light and fun. This was supposed to be for her. The expression on his face changed the rules.

  “I thought option two didn’t start until I was naked on the bed and my legs were spread wide.”

  He visibly pulled himself together, but the smile he gave her wasn’t playful. Whatever he meant tonight to be for her, it was serious for him. “Think of this as a bonus.” He ran his palm up the back of her thigh, cupping her buttocks in his hand and squeezing the muscle. “This is my appetizer, not yours.”

  Ruby scrambled away from the emotion in his voice, climbing on the bed with as much energy as she could muster, trying to get the lightness back. By his half smile, he knew what she was up to. She scooted up against the headboard and looked over at him, realizing all of a sudden that she was very naked and he was very not. She shoved her feet under the sheets and kept her legs together. It took all her self-control not to cross her arms over her chest.

  “Self-conscious all of a sudden?”

  “Only one of us is naked!”

  “And we’re going to stay that way.”

  “You could at least take off your shirt.” She was exposed and vulnerable, the stale hotel air cold on her body.

  The smile of pure sin and pleasure was back on his lips. “Our bargain at the track worked so well, I’m willing to try another one. I’ll raise my shirt an inch for every inch you open your legs.”

  “Like the bargain at the track, I’m destined to lose.” But she put an inch between her ankle bones. “It should at least be half an inch to an inch. You have farther to go than I do.”

  “I know. But I’ll take that movement as acceptance of the bargain.”