Chapter 23
Ruby
HE HELD ME LIKE NOTHING had splintered. Like he hadn’t just detonated something between us.
I kept still, head on his chest, inhaling the scent of his skin, feeling the beat of his heart, my eyes wide open in the dark.
I didn’t ask again. I didn’t want to hear it in clearer words.
Not when I had no idea what I’d say back.
Not when I had no idea why I was still here, nestling against him and not bolting for the door.
I wasn’t, because I was trying to figure out how I could hold on to him without changing anything. Without risking more. There must be a way. I didn’t want us to be a past tense thing. I couldn’t bear the thought.
I stayed curled in him long after I knew he was asleep.
My only hope—pathetic as it sounded even in my own head—was that the renovation was going smoothly. That soon, he’d have to go back to Houston, and we’d go back to what we were.
Just amazing sex. Just loads of fun. No sleepy cuddles or “too complicated” feelings in the dark. Zero risk.
The version of us I could handle.
Because when someone said something like “You’re mine,” I didn’t think How romantic. I thought, These things don’t last. Half the time, it wasn’t even conscious—it was muscle memory.
Because people went away when I became too much.
And I wouldn’t even see it coming. One day they were there, the next they were gone.
I could wreck everything just by being myself.
So no, thanks. I’d rather walk away than be left gutted.
Or better yet, never start anything at all.
Safer to stay in one piece than risk shattering.
In that long, sleepless night, even when I let myself think ‘what if,’ I told myself that this overanalyzing and turmoil were exactly what I’d been trying to avoid my entire adult life.
Imagine doing that over every little thing, forever waiting in fear for the other shoe to drop.
Imagine allowing yourself to fall in love, only to be left at some point.
Imagine giving your heart entirely, then having it broken.
No. Nope. My heart wasn’t built for this.
And this heart, which was filling with unruly feelings lately, had to be—and would be—policed back. Just as soon as Sebastian left Coral Bay.
WHEN I WOKE UP, MY cottage smelled of fresh coffee, and a pot waited for me on the kitchen counter. But no Sebastian.
I showered and got dressed, then hurried to the main building.
On the way there, I stopped only to check in on cabins seven and eight, which were now nearly finished and opened for bookings as early as next week.
When I got to the scaffolded house, I could feel my stupid heart both relieved and racing at the sight of Sebastian’s rental still parked outside.
I met Sandra at reception. “Are Dave and Sebastian here?” I asked, masking my urgency by adding Dave’s name.
“At the work site,” she gestured with her head toward the upper floor. “Ruby, the restaurant is going to be at full capacity tonight, Mr. Harris said.”
“Amazing. Thanks, Sandra.”
At night, there was no hammering. The dust settled, the workers were gone, and the scaffolding disappeared into the dark. The new deck and fresh paint at the Bar & Grill brought out the best in it. The ocean just beyond did the rest.
I didn’t want to hide from Sebastian, so I marched right up and greeted both him and Dave.
“Ruby,” Sebastian said, breaking from Dave and walking toward me.
Something in his expression startled me. But when he spoke, I realized it had nothing to do with last night.
This was a different kind of jolt.
“We found mold,” he said, gesturing toward the ceiling beams. “When they pulled out the damaged insulation from that corner, the whole section behind it was soaked. They’ll have to treat the mold and bring in a licensed roofing contractor.”
I stared at the spot he pointed to, feeling the walls close in.
He touched my forearm. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it. As the structural lead, I sign on the permit update, and I’ll see that the fix is done right. I’ll also ensure it’s within budget.”
I curbed the urge to throw my arms around his neck and thank him. The spike of panic I’d felt a moment ago ebbed under his steady voice and the way he took charge without being asked.
If he weren’t here and it had been Dave delivering that news, I might’ve launched myself out the nearest window.
“Okay. I’ll contact the insurance adjuster and start the new vendor paperwork. Let’s talk in my office?” I said, instead of hugging him. “Thanks so much, Sebastian.”
He just smiled and nodded once before turning back to Dave.
On my way downstairs, I realized—Sebastian wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
He was fixing my inn, but in the process, cracking my armor.
The first thing I did after closing the office door behind me was text Rio. “S.O.S. Need to talk to you.”
She replied almost immediately. “I’ll be there. Where and when?”
I took a deep breath. “Seven. Coral Bay beach. The usual.”
“If you need me before, I can come by sooner.”
“No. Seven’s ok.”
By the time Sebastian knocked on the door, I was back in control. I had a draft contract for the roofing vendor, and I’d already contacted the insurance adjuster.
I was in my chair behind the desk when he took the seat across from me.
“Dave’s reaching out to a couple of roofing companies for quotes,” he said.
I nodded, then gave him a rundown of what I’d prepped and opened the budget file based on his earlier estimates.
But before we got into the numbers, I paused and looked at him. “Aren’t you expected back in Houston? I really appreciate everything, but I don’t want you getting into trouble on my account.”
“It’s already handled,” he said. “My project’s at a phase that lets me stretch my remote work. Ames might pull me in for a failure load consult sometime, but other than that, I can stay. And my mother will be thrilled I’m sticking around a little longer.”
“Thank you. For everything,” I said, my voice shaky. “For jumping in like this without being asked. Again. Seriously, I ...” My mouth went dry. “I appreciate this. To have someone ... you ...” I was rarely at a loss for words, but since last night, I needed a damn search party to find mine.
Sebastian nodded. He didn’t wave it off, just nodded—calm, grounded, like he understood what I was really saying even when it was all a jumble in my head.
I cleared my throat and reopened the budget. “Okay. Let’s see what the numbers are saying.”
At some point, Sebastian came to stand next to my chair so we could look together at the Excel file.
The last time we’d been alone in this office, he’d taken over, stepped into me, pressed me between him and the desk in a haze of adrenaline and need.
Now, the air between us was professional.
Or trying to be. He hadn’t even glanced at my mouth.
And somehow, that made it worse.
It made me feel more. Because now it wasn’t about physical tension release. This was who he was—someone solid, dependable, someone who showed up regardless. Someone I trusted and needed frighteningly more than I wanted to admit.
I looked at him longer than I should have—took in the way his big hands flipped the contract pages, the width of his shoulders, the angle of his jaw, the quiet focus in his expression.
I wanted to reach and wrap my arms around him and disappear in his embrace.
Just for a second. Just to feel that steadiness pressed against me.
But I didn’t.
Because touch—that thing we’d made so easy and automatic between us—had taken on a whole new meaning.
It wasn’t a given anymore. It wasn’t easy.
And it wasn’t a right I still had, not after he told me he wanted more than I could give.
The undercurrent between us ran deeper than I’d ever imagined or was willing to accept, dragging us to unfamiliar depths, deeper than I could swim.
At the door, just before leaving my office, Sebastian rested his hand on my shoulder. “Get some rest, okay?”
I nodded.
He was being himself. Being us. While I was spiraling inside.
It killed me in a whole new way.
“Make it six. Will that work?” I texted Rio the moment I shut the door behind him.
It had to be Rio, she was the only one of my friends who actually knew Sebastian.
Daphne and Evangeline weren’t from Blueshore like us, they were from Coral Bay.
And whenever Sebastian came by, it’d only been to see me. All of me.
“See you then,” Rio replied a moment later.
THE SUN HOVERED JUST above the horizon as I crossed the sand, shoes dangling from my fingers.
My favorite spot on Coral Bay beach was just beyond the promenade, where the sand-strewn tiles ended and an empty stretch opened toward the lighthouse on the far end.
The bay bent like a bow: jagged rock at the tips, soft sand in the middle where the town sat.
My inn perched where the slope began on one side, the lighthouse marking the other.
Pretty for postcards, a landmark for locals, it wasn’t functional anymore.
White pleated slacks and a soft black camisole or not, I dropped onto the damp sand, digging my toes in.
A moment later, I spotted Rio making her way toward me.
“What happened?” she asked, sinking beside me with a soft thud.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d called her—or any of my friends—for an emotional emergency meeting.
Maybe back when I was scrambling to turn a profit at the inn that first year.
Or a few years ago, when I’d tried my version of monogamy, told a guy he could stay, then needed help kicking him out.
That was around the time Rio moved into Owen’s house to take care of his grandfather.
“Sebastian said point-blank last night that he wants more. Not just more. He wants it all. With me.” I didn’t mince words, I needed it off my chest fast.