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Doreen greets me as I walk in and stomp the snow off my shoes. It’s not coming down heavy yet, but there’s enough on the ground to be messy.
“What can I get you, Knox?” She smiles, her bright red lipstick never changing in all the years I’ve known her.
“Truffle fries. Double order.”
“I didn’t know you liked those.” She calls the order to the back where Gino, her husband, gives a wave through the window.
“I do, but they aren’t for me.”
She rolls her eyes. “That buzzard Nora finally got to you, did she?”
“Nope, Ruby’s back in town.”
Her eyes glint as she leans over the counter. “Ruby Lane?”
“The very one.” I give a nod to the regulars who are chatting down at the other side of the bar.
“I didn’t know she was coming home. At least, Lorraine hasn’t said anything. Then again, I haven’t seen her in a while.” That glint shines in her eyes again. “It seems she’s been getting a lot of orders. A ridiculous amount, in fact. And she’s overworked. I’m guessing she’s called Ruby in for help. Am I warm?”
“Of course you are. That’s why you’re the big spoon.” Gino hands me the fries, hot and fresh from the fryer.
She laughs and pokes him in the arm. “This is why I keep you in the kitchen. Telling our business.”
He kisses her cheek and retreats.
“Thanks.” I drop a twenty on the bar and back away.
“Don’t think I can’t see what you’re up to.” She winks at me. “And I can tell you, this is going to be fun to watch. Go get her, Knox.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I back out into the cold wind and speed back over to the bakery.
When I walk in, the whole places smells like an explosion at a vanilla factory.
“—many orders are we talking? Holy crap, Grams!” Ruby yells from the back. “How are we going to get all this done before Christmas?”
“That’s why you’re here. You’re my little elf. Helping me out with getting everything finished.” She laughs.
I put the fries on the counter and listen. It’s so good just to hear Ruby’s voice. Warm and sweet, just like her. She’s suspicious of me. I get that. But I’ll show her soon enough that I’m the man for her. The one who can make her happy and protect her—speaking of—I pull my phone from my pocket and send off a text to Mr. Finley. He responds almost instantly, and I tell him what I need. That’s all it takes to have a member of the Brotherhood pay a visit to Ruby’s boss.
Mr. Finley: Would you like him gone for good, sir? That’s the Brotherhood’s specialty, of course.
I hesitate. If it were only up to me, the bastard would be at the bottom of the ocean before the day was out. But I have to think about Ruby. She wouldn’t want him dead. So, instead, I opt for a less permanent option.
Knox: Have them scare him so badly he shits himself. He will never so much as look at Ruby Lane again. He won’t contact her, won’t say so much as ‘hello.’ If he does, the Brotherhood will be back. Pay the full contract price so it’s in place should I need to go through with it.
Mr. Finley: Very good, sir.
I pocket my phone as Lorraine and Ruby emerge from the back.
“Your room is… it’s ... being painted. Yes, painted.” Grams pats Ruby’s hand. “That’s the reason why you can’t stay at home.”
“Painted?” Ruby cocks her head to the side. “Why?”
“Well, you see …” Lorraine wrings her hands, then looks up at me. “Oh, we have a customer! We’ll discuss this later, Ruby.”
I push the fries across the counter to her. Ruby takes one sniff and opens the top. She can’t help herself and grabs a fry, pressing it into her mouth before I can warn her they’re hot. But she doesn’t even mind. She chews and makes this sort of guttural sound that sends a jolt of need straight to my cock. I step closer to the counter to hide it, but damn, Ruby does it again with the next fry she eats.
“You’re staying with me,” I say.
“What?” Ruby seems to remember herself, but she doesn’t stop eating the fries. “No.”
“Yes. I have a cottage that’s only a few streets over. Nothing huge, but it’s got plenty of room for the both of us, and your luggage is still in my car anyway.”
Ruby winces. She must’ve forgotten all about it.
“Well, you, me, and Greasy. But he comes and goes according to his own schedule.”
“Greasy?” She licks the salt and truffle oil from her lips, her pink tongue drawing my gaze. She’s slowly torturing me. First the sounds, now the tongue.
“My cat.”
“You’re a cat person?” Ruby’s voice is tinged with surprise as she grabs another fry.
“I’m a Greasy person. He took up with me at the shop one day, and then he appeared on my doorstep. He follows me pretty much everywhere in this town. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s outside right now, watching me from across the street.”
