Chapter Thirty-Three
Ruby
Garett and I haven’t spoken since I chucked him out of the cookery school yesterday in case my sister found us. I snicker to myself as I remember how he Googled rules for fuck buddies while face-planting on the sofa bed, his jeans around his ankles, all while I shouted, “We haven’t got time!”
While dressing, we disagreed with most of the ones we found online and decided on five for us.
1) To remain professional at work no matter how horny we are
2) No dates, just hookups
3) Not to tell anyone about what we’re doing
4) Never text unless it’s to do with work or arranging a hookup
5) No staying overnight at each other’s houses
This is why we haven’t spoken. Now it’s Monday early evening, and we’re baking mince pies and doing the last bits of preparation for the cookery school before the mulled wine and wreath making workshop.
I catch sight of Garett in the glass of the cookery school door. He’s wearing a Christmas shirt, as per instructions. I’m in thigh-high boots and a red woolly dress with white reindeer silhouettes. It clings to every curve. It’s not full-on Mrs. Christmas, but it’s much sexier than I’d typically wear. His eyes nearly jump out of his head when he sees me, but then he nods with his furrowed brow. He doesn’t offer me a hello. His body is stiff and his face blank. I manage not to stomp my feet in annoyance.
“Where do you want me?” he asks Kath brusquely, although his wincing gaze keeps drifting my way as I struggle with the streamers.
I climb on the chair to hang the decorations above the dining table. This is a job for Wicksy, but he’s too busy flirting with Flora, who’s leading the wreath making session. It’s like she’s taken courses in every skill, including flower arranging.
“Please help Ruby with the streamers. She’s going to hurt herself,” Kath replies as she gets the trays out for the mince pies.
“Ruby?” Garett looks around the room with his arms in the air, moving his head from side to side as if he doesn’t know where I am. “Oh, there you are,” he announces loudly. “I didn’t realise you were already here.”
“It’s not like I’m hiding,” I reply with a roll of my eyes. “And you’ve already nodded to me.”
He clears his throat noisily. “I don’t know what you mean. It’s nice to see you again after the last cookery day.” He clears his throat again and grinds his teeth. “Did you get home okay before it snowed on Saturday?”
I stare at him, wide-eyed. It’s like he’s a robot trying to pretend to be human. Kath shakes her head before continuing to set up.
“Get over here and stop being so weird.”
Garett stands in front of me as I try to attach the streamers.
“Are you going to help or just watch?”
There’s no one around us, but he whispers between gritted teeth like he’s a ventriloquist, “I’m trying to be professional. I’m following the rules.”
“By acting like a massive knob?”
He grunts his annoyance. Even at this distance, I can smell the cinnamon and that mystery scent I still can’t place. I want to kneel on the table, grab his head, and pull him to me for a kiss. His professional demeanour wanes as his stare licks like flames up my boots before raking up my body. Heat pools between my thighs as I remember the way I sat on his lap, writhing, on Sunday morning. I swear he’s thinking the same as he runs his knuckles across his stubble.
I wobble under his hungry glare, and immediately, his hands grip me around the waist. His fingers pinch my hips, and my chest moves up and down with the depths of my breaths. We remain like this until a clattering tray sounds from the demonstration counters.
“You look very nice,” I say as he helps me off the table. I breathe him in again, a moan escaping from between my lips.
“You resemble every sexy Christmas dream I’ve ever had.” He pops me onto the ground, practically pushing me away, shaking his head and grunting an expletive. He pulls his hand away. “I’ll get on with the streamers. You do something else.”
I cock my eyebrow, but he busies himself as I hang baubles onto the tree. At least he’s not regretful about Sunday. I’ve overplayed what we said to each other and everything else. My bullet vibrator is barely surviving, but in the mix of horniness, there are moments of panic and struggle. I can’t do hookups. I want to be able to, but I already like him a lot. Not that he needs to know that. I want to continue having sexual experiences that give me life, so I’ll continue pretending I’m cool as a fucking cucumber about our arrangement. I want him to want more, but I can’t forget the reasons I gave. My family is too important to be hurt again, and us being in a relationship or trying to do anything more than a short-term hookup agreement will cause problems.
Ideally, we should talk it out before the class starts, but it’s nearly time for the punters to arrive.
“Hey, Ruby, did you lose one of your marshmallow earrings? Flora found it in the hideaway upstairs while setting up. It was under the sofa.”
Garett freezes.
“I slept here when it snowed. I stayed to bake but got snowed in, so I slept on the sofa,” I reply breezily.
“It sounds like the start of a winter horror movie. Were you safe all alone?” Wicksy asks.
“Of course she was all alone,” Garett grumbles, and everyone turns to stare at him, including Flora, who just walked into the room.
Should I fall into the tree to distract everyone? Thankfully, vehicles in the car park do the job. We move to greet the people who’ll be coming through the doors as I say loud enough for my team to hear, “Yes, I was safe. It was nice. It was the best sleep I’d ever had. Like ever.”
Garett stands by me, and when everyone is distracted by the first clients, he whispers in my ear, “The best ever?”
“Yes, by a mile. Like a perfect lemon drizzle cake that you want to eat again and again. Did you enjoy your sleep on Saturday?”
“I’ve never had one like it. It was the best sleep I’ve ever had, too.”
We beam at each other. I’m desperate to kiss his smiling face. His arm brushes mine, and then, as I lick my lips, he tracks my tongue. I can’t wait to get him alone after we’re done tonight. What with the sex god next to me and a fully booked class, nothing could be better.
But then a voice ices my veins and sets my teeth on edge. “Ruby, we hoped you’d be leading this tonight.”
I turn to find Neil and Viv, and they’re holding hands.