Chapter Five #3
We stood like that for long moments, just breathing together. The grief and fear slowly giving way to something warmer. Comfort shifting to awareness. His hands on my back becoming less soothing and more possessive.
When I tilted my head back to look at him, his eyes had gone dark with want.
"This is me," I said. "Completely here with you. No more walls."
Heat flared in his eyes. "Show me."
He lifted me in one smooth motion. I wrapped my legs around his waist, arms around his neck, and he carried me down the hall to his bedroom—not the guest room. His.
The meaning wasn't lost on either of us.
He laid me on his bed, following me down, his weight pressing me into the mattress. This kiss was different—deeper, more demanding. Both of us fully present with nothing hidden between us.
"I've wanted you here," he murmured against my throat, his mouth hot on my skin. "In my bed. Really here with me."
"I'm here." I pulled his shirt over his head, needing skin. "I'm yours."
We shed clothes between kisses, urgent now. When he settled between my thighs, naked and hard against me, we both paused. Locked eyes.
"No more pretending," he said.
"No more pretending," I agreed.
He pushed inside slowly, and we both groaned. The angle was perfect, the fullness overwhelming. I wrapped my legs high around his waist, ankles locking behind his back, and the angle made him curse under his breath.
"God, Ruby—you feel—"
"Don't stop. Please don't stop."
He didn't. Built a rhythm that had me gasping, clinging to his shoulders, meeting every thrust. My back arched, taking him deeper, and he groaned into my neck.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice rough.
I did. Held his gaze while he moved inside me, while pleasure built and crested and threatened to break me apart.
"I see you," he said. "All of you. And you're beautiful."
His hand slid between us, finding where we were joined, his thumb circling until I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, could only feel.
"Come for me," he whispered. "Let me see you come apart."
I did. Shattered completely, crying out his name, my body clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through me.
He followed seconds later, his whole body going rigid, then collapsing against me, both of us shaking and breathless and utterly spent.
We lay tangled together afterward, hearts pounding against each other, his weight pressing me into the mattress in a way that felt like safety.
"That," he said finally, his voice muffled against my neck, "was worth waiting for."
I laughed shakily, running my fingers through his hair. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." He kissed my shoulder. "That was you. Really you. Finally."
We dozed for a while, wrapped around each other in the tangle of sheets. When we finally stirred, mid-morning sun was streaming through his windows, painting everything gold.
"We should probably get up," I said reluctantly. "The celebration tonight—"
"Is hours away." He pulled me closer. "Stay here a little longer."
So I did. Let myself have this—the warmth of his body against mine, the quiet intimacy of just being together without words or walls or fear.
Eventually, though, reality intruded. We had to get ready. Had to face the town. Had to step into whatever came next.
BY LATE AFTERNOON, we were showering and getting ready. The Valentine's Festival closing gala at The Pinnacle started at six—cocktails first, then Evelyn's announcements, buffet dinner, and dancing.
I'd just finished drying my hair when Gil appeared in the bathroom doorway, already dressed in charcoal slacks and a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms.
"About the executive chef position," he said quietly. "The offer I made Saturday night."
I turned to face him, wrapped in his robe. "I was terrible to you. I ran away."
"You had reasons. And now we've cleared the air." He crossed to me, leaned against the counter. "The offer still stands, Ruby. If you want it."
"I want it." The words came easier than I expected. "I want to accept. Partnership, profit-sharing, creative control—all of it."
"You're sure? No pressure. We can take time to—"
"I'm sure." I reached for his hand. "I'm tired of running from what I want. And I want this. With you."
He pulled me into his arms. "Then it's yours. We'll work out the details next week—contracts, timeline, menu development, hiring staff."
"Thank you for not giving up on me."
"Never." He kissed my forehead. "I'll let you finish getting ready. We should leave in about forty-five minutes."
He slipped out, closing the bathroom door to give me privacy.
I turned to my overnight bag. I'd packed a simple black cocktail dress Friday night—when I'd been planning revenge, preparing for whatever the weekend might bring.
Now I was grateful for it.
I slipped it on. The dress fit perfectly, falling to just above my knees. I worked my hair into a low twist, pinning it secure, and used the minimal makeup I'd packed—mascara, a touch of blush, lip gloss. Nothing fancy, but enough.
When I emerged, Gil stopped adjusting his tie and just stared.
"You're stunning," he said simply.
He looked devastating in his charcoal suit, crisp white shirt, dark tie. Sophisticated and masculine and completely mine.
Or at least, I hoped he was mine.
We drove to The Pinnacle's main building as the sun set, painting the mountains pink and gold. The parking lot was already filling—the whole town turning out for Valentine's Day.
"Ready?" Gil asked, taking my hand.
I looked up at the building. The place that used to be my home. The place I'd lost. The place I was reclaiming—not as it was, but as something new.
For just a second, I was eight years old again, running through these halls while my mother planned a wedding in the events office and my father reviewed the books. I could almost smell the pine and woodsmoke, hear the laughter of guests who'd become like family.
But that was gone. And maybe that was okay. Maybe honoring the past didn't mean clinging to it. Maybe it meant building something new worth passing on.
"Ready," I said.
We walked inside together, hand in hand, toward the ballroom where the whole town would gather. Toward whatever came next.
Together.