Page 272 of Show Me

“Wow,” Travis says. “You’re cooked.”

Ruby loses the battle and laughs outright. Warm. Easy.

God, I love that sound. I rub my hand up and down her back once without thinking about it. It feels good to touch her whenever I want without worrying about what other people think. What their expectations are. Or that I’ll screw everything up and lose her.

“You eat lunch?”

Travis groans loudly. “There it is. Full husband mode.”

Ruby rolls her eyes. “I ate.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“You’re terrible at lying lately.”

She bumps her shoulder lightly against my chest. “You’re annoying lately.”

“That’s fair.”

I love seeing the light in her eyes. How she no longer worries that I’m going to push her away and pretend that we aren’t together. I hate that I did that to her. That I did that to us.

But while I’ll never be able to make up for the pain I caused us both by refusing to commit the second I had her in my arms, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to her that she’s everything to me.

Dad clears his throat. “The Jenkins contract needs signed before noon.”

I glance down at the folder in my hand. Right. Work.

Ruby moves again beside me, one hand resting unconsciously against her stomach. She rests her hand on my upper arm. “My appointment got moved to Thursday.”

“What time?”

“Three-thirty.”

“Okay.”

I’m already mentally rearranging the schedule. Move Lewis to inspections. Push the cabinet install back. Get Travis to handle the walkthrough.

Ruby starts to shake her head. “You don’t have to–” Then she stops. Right in the middle of the sentence. Because we both know I do. Not because I have to. Because I’m going to.

Her eyes meet mine. Soft. Knowing. And something warm settles low in my chest at the fact she understands that difference now.

“I’ll make it work,” I tell her simply.

Ruby studies me for half a second longer. Then smiles. “I know you will.”

And Christ. That might be the best thing anyone’s ever said to me.

Chapter One Hundred Fifty-Two

Ruby

Christmas Eve Dinner

The house is loud. Warm. Full. Every surface in the kitchen is covered in bowls, casseroles, pies, and half-open containers while people move around each other in practiced chaos.

Someone’s laughing in the living room. Emily’s telling Jake to stop stealing rolls before dinner. Squirt is snorting hopefully beneath the table like he thinks someone’s going to accidentally drop half the meal.