Chapter 3
Chapter three
Ruby
“Rise and shine, lazy bones!”
I slid through the house on my socks. Last night, I barely slept a wink because today was the Annual Holiday Market and we had to get an early start. I pounded on Dad’s bedroom door, then did the same to the guest room door where Dean was sleeping.
“Get up and get moving!” I called. “We don’t have all day!”
Dean shuffled out with a disgruntled look, running a hand through his disheveled salt-and-pepper hair as he leaned against the door frame. Wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants slung low on his hips.
My mouth went dry. I blinked in surprise and stared shamelessly. Tattoo ink cascaded over his right shoulder, across his pecs. There was just enough muscle definition in his torso to define his obliques, but his stomach was soft. Perfect for cuddling.
And those sweatpants were so thin that they left nothing to the imagination. I gulped as my gaze snagged on the sheer size of that distinctive bulge.
“It’s the ass-crack of dawn, honeybee,” Dean growled. “What the fuck are you yelling for?”
I cleared my throat, fighting the filthy thoughts that were racing through my head.
“We have to get to the Holiday Market early, before all the best food is gone. And we can’t miss the parade. That starts at nine. Oh, then there’s the Christmas carol sing-along. Dad and I do that every year. It’s tradition.”
Dean heaved a sigh.
“Why don’t you two run along without me? I’ll catch up later.”
“Nope, not an option. You agreed to stay for Christmas. That means you’re part of the celebration.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face.
“I’m beginning to regret that decision.”
“Well, you promised, so you can’t take it back.” I clasped my hands and put on my most innocent expression. “You wouldn’t want to break my heart, would you?”
Dean groaned.
Dad chuckled as he emerged from his bedroom, already dressed for the day in jeans and my favorite huggable blue sweater. He took one look at Dean and laughed.
“Coffee, my friend. Get some caffeine into your system and you might have a chance of keeping up with Ruby.”
“Okay, okay,” Dean relented. “I’ll…get dressed.”
“Leaving in T-minus ten minutes, gentlemen!” I called, racing off. “Don’t be late!”
Main Street was blocked off for the market and transformed into a winter wonderland with fairy lights, garlands of greenery, and giant red velvet bows.
I had a bounce in my step as I walked with Dad and Dean flanking me.
Sandwiched between them, I hooked my arms through their elbows, feeling giddy with delight.
“Okay, first stop, coffee,” I announced. “Caffeine will be required.”
“Finally something we agree on,” Dean replied with a yawn, huddled in his coat against the biting wind.
“Then we can grab some hot, fresh hand pies for breakfast while we find a spot to watch the parade,” I added.
“No one should have this much energy this early in the morning,” he mumbled under his breath.
“I heard that,” I chirped.
“You should see her after a few shots of espresso,” Dad put in. “I swear she can move at the speed of light.”
“Why does that not surprise me?” Dean replied.
“I’m standing right here, you know,” I protested. “I can hear every word you say.”
“That’s funny,” Dean replied. “Since my plea to stay in my warm bed for a few more hours fell on deaf ears this morning.”
“What kind of person would I be if I left you home alone to sleep instead of enjoying all this Christmas cheer?” I spread my arms to encompass the market. Then I patted Dean’s stomach. “You’re just grumpy because you’re hungry. That’s the problem.”
“Hate to break it to you, honeybee, but this is my personality year ‘round.”
I scoffed and squeezed his arm.
Jesus, his bicep is hard as a rock.
“By the time I’m done with you,” I replied. “You’re going to be the perkiest Christmas elf this side of the North Pole.”
Dean released a beleaguered sigh that sounded a lot like, for fuck’s sake.
I laughed and broke away, trotting ahead to hunt down breakfast.
Despite Dean’s continued grumbling, he didn’t make excuses to duck out and bail. Instead, he let me drag him around the market with only mild complaints. When I piled my Christmas shopping in his arms, he merely rolled his eyes, resigned to his fate.
“Pushover,” Dad mumbled, sipping a steaming cup of cider.
“This is your fault,” Dean countered.
“Me?!”
“You’re the one who created this monster,” Dean pointed out as I looped a strand of tinsel with blinking Christmas lights around his neck. Even though he was scowling, I could see the affection in his dark eyes as he watched me stand back to admire my handiwork.
“You’d have to discuss that with her mother,” Dad said.
“That’s a chicken shit answer, Barrett.”
Dad laughed as he walked away, abandoning Dean to my antics.
In the distance, a vendor selling custom snowglobes caught my eye and I dashed off, distracted by shiny trinkets.
When I ducked under the awning, I nearly collided with a guy about my age.
Wearing a puffy dark blue jacket, and reindeer antlers dusted with glittery snow, he was…
cute, in that preppy boy-band kind of way.
“Whoa,” he said, chuckling. “Looks like someone can’t wait to get their hands on some Christmas tchotchkes.”
“Don’t test me,” I replied lightly. “You never know what kind of dirty tricks I have up my sleeve when it comes to knickknacks.”
His blue eyes swept over me from head to toe as he stepped closer. He smelled of warm spice like apple cider, and a hint of Axe body spray.
“Nah, I bet you’re one of those good girls who never gets coal in her stocking.”
“Appearances can be deceiving,” I countered.
The corner of his mouth twitched with an almost-smile. I recognized the pull of flirtation, and it wasn’t an unwelcome one. Although he didn’t give me butterflies the way Dean did. This guy just looked so…young in comparison. A little gangly, too, as if he hadn’t fully grown into his body yet.
“I’m Reed,” he said.
“Ruby,” I replied.
“As in…Ruby Kent?”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Have we met before?”
He shook his head.
“No, but I’ve heard about you. I’m visiting cousins for the holidays, and from what I gather, you’re the infamous girl who got away, because no one has been able to tie you down. Are your standards really that high?”
I breathed a laugh as the memory of a sleep-rumpled, half-naked Dean Ellison flashed through my mind from this morning. Wearing those damn gray sweatpants.
Oh, buddy, you have no idea. My standards are so high, they’re in the clouds, and I have no hope of meeting them. Ever.
“Maybe they are,” I replied.
Reed shifted even closer until only a few inches of space separated us. He lifted one gloved hand and pointed upward.
“Are we talking…the sky is the limit?”
Together, we glanced up. Low and behold, a bundle of mistletoe dangled over our heads, tied with a shiny red ribbon.
“Is that part of your plan?” I asked. “Lying in wait for innocent, unsuspecting girls to fall into your trap so you can steal a kiss?”
Reed arched an eyebrow with a shrug.
“It worked, didn’t it? I caught you, after all.”
Before I could reply, Dean grabbed the hood of Reed’s jacket and yanked him backward. Reed yelped with surprise, stumbling to catch his balance.
“Beat it, kid,” Dean growled.
“Hey, asshole,” Reed snapped. “What’s your problem?”
Then Dean moved in front of me, using his broad shoulders to completely block me from Reed’s view.
“If you don’t fuck off, the only kiss you’re getting under the mistletoe will be my fist connecting with your teeth. Got it?”
I gasped and tugged on Dean’s arm. Holy hell, I could feel the tension straining in every muscle of his body. He was pissed.
“Dean—oh my God—we were just talking,” I hissed.
Reed adjusted his coat with a huff.
“Take it easy, old man. Are you her dad or something?”
Dean took a threatening step forward, snarling.
“Why don’t you come a little closer and find out what this old man is capable of doing to a jumped up little shit like you?”
I sputtered in shock. Dean could be just as protective as Dad on occasion, but nothing quite like this.
Reed hesitated for a moment before hurrying away.
I punched Dean in the shoulder.
“What the hell was that?”
He turned to face me with a disapproving glance.
“Really, honeybee? You were about to stick your tongue down that scrawny punk kid’s throat?”
I crossed my arms.
“Actually, I was thinking about kissing him. Not sticking my tongue down his throat, as you so crudely put it. I’m an adult, Dean. If I want to make out with someone, that’s my decision.”
Dean huffed, skeptical. A muscle flexed in his jaw and I could have sworn his eyes darkened for a split second with…something too fleeting to define.
“You can do better than that, Ruby,” he said. “Get yourself a real man. Someone who treats you like a princess. That goddamn kid was just looking for a chance to get his rocks off when you bumped into him.”
I frowned.
“Well, what if I wanted to get my rocks off, too? Did you ever consider that?”
This time, Dean’s eyes definitely darkened. He started to turn away, then paused and came closer. Towering over me. Fuck, I never truly realized just how big and intimidating he was when he wanted to be.
He studied my face for several long seconds, utterly silent. I bit my tongue until I tasted blood, holding my ground.
I was lying my ass off, but Dean didn’t need to know that.
I had no intention of sleeping with Reed.
Or anyone else for that matter. At least…
not yet. Despite my reputation as a shameless flirt, my virginity was still intact.
Sure, I had plenty of opportunities to change that.
But every time I tried, I chickened out and couldn’t go through with it.
Back in high school, a rumor started circulating around school that I lost my virginity around fifteen or sixteen. So, I rolled with it. Not that it was any of their business in the first place.
No one knew the truth. I didn’t even tell my best friend, Sierra, and I shared everything with her.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want sex—I did. I simply wasn’t ready. And as soon as I faced actually doing the deed with someone, my desire just…fizzled. My sex drive was in perfect working order though, and I had an array of battery-operated toys in my nightstand drawer to prove it.
Dean leaned in close—so close that I felt the warmth of his breath on the curve of my neck with a full-body shiver—as he brought his lips to my ear.
“If a good dicking down is what you’re after,” he said, in a voice so low and gravelly that I forgot how to breathe. “That kid would be a piss-poor choice. You wouldn’t feel a goddamn thing with his grassblade of a cock. And he wouldn’t have a fucking clue how to make you come anyway.”
Dean pulled back to look at me, his eyes hooded, the air crackling between us with what he’d just said. My mouth gaped open like a fish and my knees felt wobbly.
“I’m well aware a girl like you has needs, honeybee,” he added. “And I’m not your dad, so I won’t cockblock you unless I have a reason to.”
I watched him walk away, gathering up my shopping that he’d deposited on a nearby bench. The breath rushed out of my lungs like a punctured balloon. I rubbed my ear where the phantom heat of his words still lingered.
Ho-ly shit.