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“Fishing.”
She gave him a peculiar look. “At night?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh.” Silence fell between them. “Did you catch anything?”
“No.”
She licked her lips again—a nervous gesture—and slowly blinked. “I went dancing.” She hiccupped, and he tried to keep a straight face. She’d definitely had a few.
“You did?”
“With the girls. It got kind of crazy.”
“I bet.”
“Chance was there.”
That wiped the smile from his face. “Was he now.”
She nodded. “Yep. He was there. He told me he loved me and says I should forgive him for what he did at the tournament. Says it was a dumb move.” She leaned back and sighed. “And it was. It really was. I mean, who would set up his girlfriend with her ex-husband?” Her eyebrows rose, and she blew out a long breath.
Travis didn’t say a word, in part because he wanted to put his fist through the wall. But mostly because he didn’t know what to say. She looked up at him, eyes big and misty.
“He asked me to dance.” She waited, but again, he had nothing. “And I was going to…”
A muscle worked its way along his jaw, and he managed to unclamp his teeth long enough to speak. “Why d
idn’t you?”
Ruby grabbed at the railing, swatting his hands away when he would have helped her. She stood over him, and he slowly straightened. She stood on the second step, so she was at eye level. That damn mouth of hers was slick and red, and he could see the tip of her tongue. A tongue that had nearly brought him to his knees only a few days earlier.
She held his gaze for so long, his neck tightened, and he slowly unclenched his hands. Her chest rose and fell, and that subtle flowery scent that was all hers drifted over him, covering him in a fine mist of Ruby.
“I came here instead,” she said, swaying slightly and grabbing on to his T-shirt. Her mouth was now so close, he didn’t have to move in order to claim it. “I wanted to dance with you instead.” She made a face. “But you weren’t here.”
“Sorry about that.”
“You should be.” Her eyes were on his mouth. “The cab didn’t wait for me.”
“We can launch a complaint against the company.”
“We can’t.” She shook her head and stumbled a bit. He didn’t mind; she was practically in his arms.
“Why’s that?”
“It’s old Mr. Stewart. He does it for extra money, and I got him out of bed when I called.” She looked over his shoulder. “I hope he made it home okay.”
“I’m sure he did.”
“You think so?”
“Yes.”
“I suppose you’re right. He’s been driving for like, one hundred years or something.” Her forehead furrowed, as if she were thinking hard. “They played this song. I want to dance,” she said abruptly, walking ahead of him and waiting at his door. Her eyes were half-closed. “I just want to dance.”
“Okay. We can do that.” Travis unlocked the cabin door and led her inside. The air was thick. He was hot as hell. And he wasn’t entirely sure what was happening. The only thing he was sure about was that Ruby had had too much to drink.
