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“She told me what you did for her and her little girl.” He motioned behind him. “What you do for most of these folks.” A slow smile crawled across his face. “You always had a thing for those in need. People with real problems or those who were just plain dumb. Remember Mason Winkworth?”
“Mason?” The lump cleared, the muscles relaxed. “Oh my God. I haven’t thought of him in years.” She nodded and looked away, hiding her face and feeling vulnerable.
“It was the harvest dance, right?”
She nodded. “Grade five.”
“Nope. Middle school grade six. I remember because our teacher was Mr. Buckburn and, man, the lecture we got.”
Before the dance, there’d been a celebration of harvest in the gymnasium, not unlike a typical fall fair. Artwork dotted the walls, music filtered through the speakers, and there were several competitions on the go. One of them was a throwback to the strength of the many lumberjacks who’d settled in the area hundreds of years earlier. Now, with the event taking place inside the school and for safety concerns, there were no saws or axes. There were heavy pieces of wood and a bunch of boys full of bravado and bragging rights.
Mason Winkworth was a kid who’d matured early for a boy, and in grade six, he was already head and shoulders above the rest of his class. He wasn’t known for his mental prowess or his athletic ability, but the kid was brawny and determined to win the last competition. It was a test of strength and endurance.
He’d lined up at the chin-up bar, a young Travis Blackwell at his side, among others, and when the whistle blew, the boys hauled themselves up and held their bodies in place for as long as they could.
Slowly they dropped, until there were only four boys left. And that was when…
“Wasn’t it My Little Pony?” Travis asked chuckling.
“No.” Ruby shook her head. “SpongeBob.”
“Right.”
Mason Winkworth’s track pants had slowly fallen down around his ankles, and his choice in undergarments had left the entire gym in giggles, with more than a few hecklers in the bunch. Not only that, the boxers were on the small side and he…well, he wasn’t.
“His face got so red, and he was so embarrassed,” Ruby said slowly. “I knew he wouldn’t give up until he won, and I knew you wouldn’t give up because you were having too much fun.”
She’d jumped from her seat in the bleachers and run to the boy who was now grunting with the effort to hold himself up, while using his feet, rubbing them along his calves to somehow get his pants back up. Which wasn’t happening. She yanked them back into place and held them so they couldn’t fall back down.
And she stood behind him for at least another five minutes until Mason Winkworth was the last man standing. Or rather, hanging.
“I asked you to dance.” Travis’s voice took on a husky tinge that had all sorts of alarm bells ringing inside Ruby. “Do you remember?”
“I said no.” She swallowed thickly. He was so close, she could count the individual lashes that framed his eyes so beautifully. She could see the gold flecks that lit the depths of his dark eyes.
Travis cracked another smile. “You said I was a jerk. Told me I should have dropped as soon as Mason’s pants had.”
“You should have,” she replied, licking her lips, a nervous gesture she wished she could take back. His eyes had followed her movement, and now they rested on her mouth, their depths dark and intense.
“I like to win.”
“But you didn’t.” Ruby watched him closely.
“Not that time,” Travis replied, his expression changing. Were they even talking about the same thing anymore? He took a step back. “We’re heading to the Tappery, next county over, for burgers. My treat. You coming?”
Ruby stared up at Travis for several moments, not sure what to say or how to act. In the end, she took the coward’s way out. She shook her head. “I’ve got Tasha here.” She turned in a circle. “Somewhere. I don’t think she’d be allowed in a restaurant.”
“You could take her home and then come.”
“Why?” The question fell out of her mouth before she could take it back.
Travis sighed and ran his hand over the back of his neck. He yanked on the brim of his hat and nailed her with a look she knew all too well.
“We need to talk, Ruby. Can we do that?” His tone was cajoling, his eyes warm and inviting. And Jesus H Christ. The man had spent the entire day working outside in the hot sun. Did he have to smell this good?
“I can’t.” She backed away before she could change her mind. “I promised Ryder I’d swing by and we’d do dinner. It’s like our Monday-night thing.” She’d promised no such thing, but it was the only excuse she could come up with.
Travis was silent for a few seconds. “Okay. Another time?”
