Bourbon Summer (Bourbon Canyon #6)

Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Ruby

My laughter mixed in with the music. I kicked my heel out, then my other one and spun, adding a little more ass wiggle than I normally would. The burn of Tenor’s gaze branded my ass. My hips would be sore tomorrow. Muscles I hadn’t used in years, if ever, were getting called on tonight.

Cruz and Lane had been both patient and enthusiastic when teaching me the steps of each line dance. In between, Tenor stalked out to the dance area and swooped me into his arms for two-stepping until another song with a popular line dance came on. Then he’d leave again, relegating himself to the picnic table while more and more of his family surrounded me.

Wynter whooped next to me, and beside her, Autumn grinned.

At the picnic table, Myles and Gideon hungrily watched their wives across from Tenor. Jonah lifted his chin to Summer. She grinned and scurried out. Tate and Scarlett were in the line behind me and Teller was next to them.

The song was winding down.

Wynter grabbed my arm, still giggling. “I’m going to be sore in the morning.”

I nodded. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

I started for the picnic table just as a slow ballad started.

A woman with skintight blue jeans and a shirt that barely went past her bustline sauntered up to Tenor. She cocked her head toward the dance area.

I slowed. Tenor adjusted his glasses, gave the woman a faint smile, and shook his head. She pouted and kicked a hip out, but he cocked his head to meet my gaze.

The relief hit me like a tidal wave. He’d passed her up. Then his smile broadened. He rose, that powerful body uncoiling like a cobra, and stalked toward me.

“Care to dance?” he asked in that deep voice, the other woman forgotten.

“Have I ever turned you down?” Giddiness swept through my veins, flushed out by hot desire. There wasn’t much I’d deny him.

Tenor made me feel wanted. How was that look he gave me fake? The way he held me while we danced? We weren’t at arm’s length like some other couples. I tripped over his feet because we were so close. My head was less than an inch away from his hard chest.

We enjoyed each other’s company. Yet he hadn’t asked me out.

I couldn’t look at it too hard. The agreement was clear.

Only the wedding had come and gone and now we were on this fake date, pretending among his family and thoroughly enjoying ourselves.

Maybe he wasn’t sure about me. I wasn’t sure about me either. If I couldn’t keep someone as shallow as Brock interested, how would I attract a guy with as much depth as Tenor?

Just enjoy tonight, Ruby . This weekend, when I would be alone in my apartment for the first time in over a month, I could ask that question.

I didn’t keep track of time, but soon enough the band was shutting down.

Tenor led me toward the picnic tables where his family was gathering, bidding everyone goodnight. Mae had all her grandkids for the night. Only Junie and Rhys were missing from the group.

“Your mom is brave to take all the kids at once,” I said.

“She loves it.” Tenor looped a relaxed arm around my shoulders. I sank into his hold, so strong, so secure.

As I walked with Tenor to his pickup, I continued to root myself in the present. I couldn’t dwell on the future. Tenor’s goal had been to make sure I knew what I should expect from a guy, but he’d proved how high I should set my standards. He was like a gold standard, except...

He wasn’t tripping over himself to be with me.

We had chemistry for days, and some hot nights, but he never pursued it. He’d had plenty of chances. He’d been hurt before and I wasn’t enough to tempt him into the real dating world.

It wasn’t me; it was him.

No matter what realization I had come to, I wouldn’t let it take away from tonight. “That was such a fun night,” I gushed after we loaded up.

“Best Fourth I’ve had in a while.”

Not the best Fourth ever? I shook off the thought. Today might’ve been an encore of a facade, but I’d use it as a very real example of how good being with a guy could be.

He wove through town to the darker outskirts of Bourbon Canyon. Soon, we lumbered down roads lit only by headlights and the partially obscured moon above us.

The faint yard light outside his cabin came into view. Shadows of trees behind the house and shop gave the view dimension. The peak of the house blended with the piney tops of the trees.

“Your place is even gorgeous at night,” I said, grateful I got one more night here. Pleased I had another sleepover with Tenor and his closed-off heart. So pleased and so grateful—for one more night.

“Yeah. It’s my own retreat.” The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. “For those nights when I don’t have a date to the street dance.”

“Well, anytime. I’m your girl.” I rolled my lips in. I hadn’t meant to sound like I was throwing myself at his feet.

He wasn’t replying. Or making light of it. His profile was hard in the glare of the dash lights. Was there something I could say to cut through the discomfort growing between us?

“I learned how to line dance,” I prattled on. “Didn’t think that would ever happen. Now I can cruise all over Bozeman and jump in line at all the bars.”

His eyes narrowed and he adjusted his glasses, his jaw clenching and unclenching. “Yeah. A good skill to have.”

“I mean, you can make bourbon and sell it for enough profit to keep how many employees afloat? And I can do the Boot Scootin’ Boogie.”

He chuckled. “You never know when it’ll come in handy.”

“I might surprise myself.”

He parked in the garage. Longing hit me at the sight of my car beside his blue pickup.

Don’t succumb to wishful thinking, Ruby.

Inside, he toed out of his boots. I slipped out of my shoes and groaned. “I think my toes are going to hate me in the morning.” I bent to rub a foot. “Is that the real reason you all wear cowboy boots? A bigger toe box for dancing?”

“That might be a selling point.”

I grinned. “I can’t shut my marketing brain off.”

He scratched behind his neck and wandered through the kitchen. Usually when I came over after my shift on Friday nights, we ate together. Cleaned up his kitchen while chatting. Then we moseyed off to bed. Except for that one night I’d gotten drunk and dove between his sheets.

Yeah, I’d like to relive that. His deep voice whispering naughty things to me in the dark...

Heat flushed through my vessels and coalesced between my legs. I hadn’t drunk much more than two beers tonight. The warmth was arousal. Desire. I wanted Tenor in a very real way. Nothing was fake about how my body reacted around him.

“Sit,” he said, gesturing to the couch. “I’ll give you a foot rub.”

I was caught between wanting to swan dive onto the cushions and being frozen with mortification. “You want to rub my sweaty feet?”

Despite the possibility of my stinky dogs, hope started to rise. What if he wasn’t tripping over himself, but tiptoeing? He was cautious, and Tenor wasn’t a guy who’d make the same mistake twice.

“If it makes you feel better,” he said, “I put my face close to abscessed hooves all the time.”

“Ew. Is that as gross as it sounds?”

“Can be. Now sit.”

My body reacted before my mind could. I padded across the floor and dropped in the corner of the couch. He sat in the middle and lifted my legs onto his lap.

A guy who wasn’t interested wouldn’t rub my feet. Guys who had been interested hadn’t given me a massage of any sort.

He traced a finger over the tips of my summery-red-painted toes. “The color matches your name.”

“It’s my favorite.”

He dug into the balls of my feet with his thumbs, dragging a long groan from me. His thighs clenched under my calves, but he continued.

“God, that feels good.” My eyes rolled back in my head. I had been missing out. Put this on the list of things I’d demand from a guy from now on. Could a girl come from a foot rub?

“You act like you’ve never had a foot rub before.” His voice was thick.

I kept my eyes closed or I’d be throwing orgasm faces nonstop. “I haven’t.”

He paused. “Never?”

I cracked an eyelid open. His aghast expression almost made me laugh. “I think my bar was in the basement for expectations.”

He grunted and continued with the massage, working his way down to my heels and back up to my toes. I tried to hold back my moans, but the man was a wizard with his fingers.

He continued to knead up to my ankles. Then he made it to my calves. I melted into the cushions, nothing but a pool of divine relaxation. “You are doing a good job of making sure no one lives up to you.”

He stopped massaging. His mouth was tight and a crease slashed across his brow.

Damn. I’d made things awkward again. Just what I got for getting my hopes up. I scooted upright. His hands were loose around my lower legs. I gingerly lowered my feet to the floor. The crease on his brow deepened.

“I should get to bed.” I rose but he stayed where he was.

“I want to kiss you again.”

It was my turn to freeze. Had I fallen asleep and entered the most wonderful dream? No, if I was dreaming, his mouth would be on mine and I would be under him already. “Why don’t you?”

Pain highlighted the lines on his face. His whole body was rigid. “I don’t want to cross the line. I might not come back.”

Brock and my other exes might have strung me along, but I had never begged. They had asked me for another chance. Tenor wasn’t requesting a first one. He didn’t want a relationship, and he didn’t want to mess around. He wasn’t tiptoeing, he was backtracking. As hard as it was to respect his wishes, I wouldn’t pressure him.

So all I said was “I might not have minded.”

I forced one foot in front of the other until I was closed in the guest bedroom. I exhaled and sagged against the bedroom door. Would he decide the line was worth crossing after all? Would he show me that what sizzled between us was worth the risk? Would he realize I wasn’t like Katrina?

I had never been drawn to a man like I was to him. I wanted him. I could picture it. I could envision us together. Something that I had thought was a girlish fantasy and that he had shown me could be real. But both parties had to be on board and he was pushing my ship away.

Soft movement came from the living room. Muffled footsteps grew closer and ceased outside of my door. My chest rose and fell. Was this it? Would he finally cave to the promise of how good it could be between us?

My lungs stalled the longer time stretched on.

Then movement again. Away from my door and down the hall. His bedroom door clicked shut.

I squeezed my eyes shut and swallowed. A wave of grief washed over me. For what could’ve been, even just for tonight. But mostly for me, for that girl who just wanted someone to want and keep wanting her. Was that too much to ask?