Chapter 5 Ruby
Chapter five
Ruby
It seemed like half the town was stuffed into Fully Booked, shoulder to shoulder, browsing the aisles for book deals. Sierra and I peeked around one of the shelves, watching Dean and Dash who were talking in the magazine section.
“So, that’s him,” Sierra said. “That’s your Dean.”
I scoffed.
“He’s not my Dean.”
Even though I wished more than anything that could be different.
“I know you showed me pictures before,” Sierra continued. “But seeing him in person…”
She blew out a breath and trailed off.
“He’s smoking hot, right?” I said.
Sierra didn’t respond, her eyes locked on Dean. I pinched her arm to get her attention. She flinched and rubbed her arm.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“You’re looking,” I said with a mock growl.
“That’s what you told me to do,” Sierra protested.
“Well, you weren’t supposed to look that hard. Besides, you’re a happily married woman to a biker of your own. I’ve got dibs on this one.”
Sort of. Although I didn’t actually have any claim on him.
Despite my hopelessly gigantic crush on Dean, there was no chance he would ever look at me as anything more than his best friend’s daughter—an endearing pest who wouldn’t stop yapping about Christmas.
Sierra cocked her head to the side as she assessed Dean with another look.
“How old did you say he was again?”
I chewed my lower lip and tore my gaze away, studying the books before me. I trailed a fingertip down the spines.
“Um…I didn’t.”
Sierra shifted the stack of books in her arms and started ticking off with her fingers.
“Well, if he grew up with your dad, and your dad just celebrated his fiftieth—”
“Stop,” I whispered. “Don’t count that high. I know the age gap is…a lot. You don’t need to put a number on it.”
Besides, I already did the math. Over and over. His forty-eight to my twenty-five. I winced. There was really no way to make those numbers sound better than they actually were.
Sierra fixed me with a look that said, you’re hopeless.
“What?” I demanded.
“Are you just pining from a distance forever then? You’re never going to make a move?”
I huffed and grabbed a book blindly off the shelf, paying no attention to the title. I flipped through the pages mindlessly, desperate for a distraction.
“Wow,” Sierra said softly. “You’ve never hesitated to flirt before. I didn’t think it was possible for you to get cold feet.”
“I don’t have cold feet,” I protested, slotting the book into my basket. “It’s different with other guys, okay? It’s…easier, when I don’t feel anything for them.”
“So, you’re not flirting with Dean on purpose because you like him.”
“Exactly,” I said. “What if Dean doesn’t feel the same way that I do? Confessing that I have a crush on him would just make everything awkward. It would kill me to find out that I’m…I’m nothing to him.”
“Ruby,” Sierra said softly. “You’re not nothing.”
My throat grew thick and I adjusted the basket on my arm, fiddling with the handle.
“I’ve never felt like this with anyone before, Sierra,” I said, my voice pained. “It’s wonderful and awful at the same time. Everyone thinks I’m flirting my way through town because I’m such a tease, but I’m really just…dancing around the one guy I truly want.”
Sierra’s gaze softened with understanding.
“I wish I had some words of wisdom to offer, but you know how I ended up with Dash. A drunken kiss and a proposal of marriage. I got lucky, since I’ve been stuck with him ever since. I couldn’t shake him, even if I wanted to.”
I sighed and plucked another book off the shelf, scanning the cover with a leather-clad, tattooed hero who bore a surprising resemblance to Dean. We were scouring our favorite spot in the whole store—the romance section. After less than thirty minutes of browsing, my basket was already half full.
“Maybe I’ll stick to fictional men instead,” I said. “They’re less complicated, right?”
Sierra chuckled.
“That entirely depends on the book.”
Dash rounded the corner, with Dean close on his heels.
“Found them,” he announced. “Told you they would be here. What are you two ladies whispering about?”
He crowded Sierra against the shelves, hooking an arm around her waist. She gazed up at him through her lashes and slid the top book off her stack, holding it up for his inspection.
“I got this one for you,” she said. “I think you’ll like it.”
“The Mafia Don’s Pretty Little Plaything,” he read aloud. “Well, I’m sold.”
She laughed.
“You don’t even know what it’s about yet.”
Dash shrugged.
“My wife recommended it. I’ve learned from first-hand experience that she has excellent taste in literature.”
He dipped his head to kiss Sierra’s neck. A pleased blush colored her cheeks and she slipped her hand inside his jacket, tugging him closer.
Jealousy coiled in my stomach. Sierra had waited a long time for someone like Dash. Her dating life had been nothing but heartbreak for years, until she met him. I was genuinely happy for her. She deserved a man who adored her the way he did.
But it was bittersweet to witness—seeing her deeply, madly in love. My meaningless flirtations paled in comparison. I hoped I could experience a love like that for myself one day.
“What about you?” Dean said, gesturing to the loaded basket on my arm. “Let’s see what titles have piqued your interest—”
I shoved my basket behind my back.
“Hasn’t anyone told you that it’s impolite to snoop through a lady’s private reading material?”
Dean snorted and reached around me easily, plucking a book from my basket at random. He arched an eyebrow at the cover.
“Stalked by the Possessive Biker,” he read. “Does your daddy know you read stuff like this, honeybee?”
“I’m an adult,” I protested. “I can read whatever I want.”
Dean met my gaze in complete silence for several agonizing seconds. I shifted in place and lifted my chin defiantly.
“Besides, Dad stopped asking what I’m reading ages ago. He found a historical romance bodice ripper in my backpack one day after school. You’d think the damn thing was infected with cooties from how fast he dropped it.”
Dean huffed a laugh and flipped the book open, scanning the text. My heart skipped a beat.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Dean countered, turning another page. “I’m skipping to the sexy parts. I don’t care about anything else.”
“Dean! You can’t just—” I protested.
“Tread carefully, brother,” Dash warned in a friendly tone. “These girls might look like angels. But their minds are filthy as fuck. Take my word for it.”
Dean’s gaze flicked away from the book and settled on me. Sliding over my body from head to toe. My skin felt tingly and too-tight. The memory of his lips at my ear, his hot breath, and those whispered words, still haunted me.
If a good dicking down is what you’re after, that kid would be a piss-poor choice.
I bit the inside of my cheek, swallowing hard.
Dean slotted one finger between the pages, holding his place, and edged closer.
I took a step back, bumping against the shelf.
My brain went fuzzy with static at his close proximity, his broad shoulders blocking my view of the shop, and his scent—fuck.
He smelled so damn good that a whimper rose in my throat.
Dean placed a hand on the shelf near my head, turning the book cover to face me.
“This is a biker romance, honeybee,” he said.
I lifted my chin, attempting to summon some defiance despite feeling completely flustered.
“What’s your point?”
“I would have thought you’d be into elves and fairies and all that fantasy shit. Or some college drama with a football jock who’s an insufferably arrogant asshole.”
Yeah, sure, I read those things, too. Sierra and I read practically everything together. But biker romances…those were my personal forbidden fruit.
My hand strayed to the patch on Dean’s cut, over his heart. Spelling out his road name—Titan—in bold, black letters, replacing his VP patch. Underneath it was a series of holes where he’d ripped out the stitches that used to display his Reckless Order MC patch.
“Does it honestly surprise you that I prefer bad boys?” I replied. “I’m the only child of two doting parents. Of course I’m bound to crave a little trouble.”
My stomach fluttered wildly. I couldn’t believe this was happening. In the back of my mind, an alarm screamed, Abort! Abort! Bad idea! Do not flirt with your dad’s best friend!
Dean wrapped his warm, strong palm around my hand. And he didn’t let go. I swore I could have combusted under the sheer intensity of his gaze at any moment.
“I’m beginning to think I should throw you over my shoulder and carry you off to some convent in the middle of nowhere.”
I scoffed and tipped my chin up, almost nose to nose with him.
“I thought you promised you wouldn’t cockblock me.”
Dean sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth and his pupils dilated full black.
Oh.
Was I turning him on right now? Was Dean “Titan” Ellison actually attracted to little ol’ me?
A fresh surge of confidence shot up my spine with a grin.
“Don’t say that word,” Dean rumbled, low and quiet for my ears alone.
Not that Dash or Sierra were paying any attention to us. They were too wrapped up in each other, sorting through the stack of books in her arms.
That’s what made their marriage so strong—reading together then recreating their favorite smutty passages. It was adorable how Dash would hunt down the latest dirty romance novels, bringing them home to Sierra just to see her face light up with excitement and anticipation.
“What word would that be?” I asked Dean.
His eyes darkened and a growl emanated from his throat.
“Ruby,” he warned. “This place is crowded—”
A light bulb went on in my brain and understanding dawned on me.
“Oh! You mean—” I leaned into him, nuzzling the curve of his neck. Fuck, he was hot as a furnace, and whatever that scent was—cologne, leather, black coffee, his soap—it didn’t matter. It was driving me buckwild. “You mean cockblock.”
I slowly let the word roll off my tongue, enunciating it crisp and clear.
“Jesus Christ,” Dean muttered under his breath. “It’s indecent, coming from that pretty mouth of yours.”
He cupped my chin, tracing the rough pad of his thumb over my lower lip. Before I could think it through, I playfully bit his thumb, holding his gaze as I did so.
Maybe it was wrong on every level.
Maybe I would come to regret teasing a man twice my age.
Or maybe…I could finally get exactly what I wanted for Christmas.
A hot, sexy, older biker, who knew how to take my virginity in the best possible way.