Chapter Nine
Celeste
Celeste had cast her gaze down, away from Ruby's exposed skin and tried to school her features into something neutral, not revealing what she'd been thinking.
But it was too late.
She'd looked for too long, with too much heat in her eyes. And Ruby had seen it.
Ruby's eyes widened, shock rippling across her face, followed quickly by something else. Recognition.
“Like what you see?”“
It wasn't a question. The tease in Ruby’s voice was obvious.
Celeste's heart slammed against her ribs. Denial rose in her throat like bile, but the words wouldn't come. She shook her head instead, her voice coming out strangled.
“I don’t know what you mean. Just go to the bathroom and get dressed.”
But Ruby didn't move. She stood there, half-dressed, watching Celeste with an intensity that made her want to bolt from the room. “I’m just saying, the way you’re looking at me makes me think you’d like a photo for memory’s sake.
Or do you have something to talk to me about?
” She chuckled, but there was something more to it, Celeste just couldn’t put her finger on what.
“There's nothing to talk about.”
“I think there's a lot to talk about.”
“Well, I don't.” Celeste moved past Ruby, keeping as much distance between them as possible, and grabbed her suitcase. She rifled through the neatly folded items, pulling out clothes without really seeing them. “So drop it.”
Ruby stood there for another moment. Celeste could feel her gaze and sense the questions she wasn't asking. Then she wagged a finger, her mouth curving into something between a smile and a smirk that Celeste absolutely refused to find endearing
“Alright, if you insist,” Ruby said
The door clicked shut behind her, and Celeste sagged against the dresser, her legs suddenly unsteady.
Oh God. Oh God oh God oh God.
She'd been caught. Years of careful control, of hiding and perfecting the art of looking without appearing to look—all shattered in one unguarded moment.
And Ruby knew. In fact, she had seen Celeste stare at her like she was starving and Ruby was a feast.
Celeste pressed her hands to her burning cheeks. This was increasingly turning out to be a complete and utter disaster.
She dressed in record time, her fingers fumbling with buttons and zippers. Her reflection in the tilted mirror looked flushed, like someone who'd been caught doing something illicit.
What did Ruby think of her now? That she was some repressed closet case who couldn't control herself, probably, and that she was pathetic for hiding her entire life.
She was all of those things, indeed, but at the same time her circumstances were justified.
The bathroom door opened. Ruby emerged fully clothed—thank God—and looking annoyingly composed. Like she hadn't just upended Celeste's entire world.
“Ready?” Ruby asked.
Celeste nodded, having managed to wrestle her features into something approaching calm.
They headed downstairs in silence, the tension between them thick enough to cut.
Meanwhile her mind was still racing as she tried to figure out some damage control.
Maybe she could claim exhaustion or stress.
Or temporary desire brought on by, what? The full moon?
Noah was already in the shop, surrounded by wooden crates and bubble wrap and looking like a kid on Christmas morning. His face lit up when he saw them.
“Perfect timing! Come see what treasures I've unearthed.”
Ruby dove into the inspection with enthusiasm. She examined jewelry laid out on velvet cloths, asked questions about provenance and ran her fingers over the spines of leather-bound books with reverence.
“This is an 1887 edition of Oliver Twist,” Noah said, delicately lifting a volume from its protective wrapping. “Original binding, remarkably preserved. The previous owner kept it in a climate-controlled case for forty years.”
Ruby leaned forward to examine the spine.
“The gilt work is incredible. You can still see the details.”
“I know! And look at this—” he pulled out another treasure. “Antique sextant from the 1800s. Still functional, believe it or not.”
Celeste hung back, pretending to browse a display of vintage postcards while actually just trying to breathe normally. She watched Ruby's hands trace the curves of the sextant, gentle and reverent, and felt heat creep up her neck.
Stop it, she told herself. Stop looking at her hands and wondering what they'd feel like—
“Celeste, look at this!” Ruby called out, holding up a small watercolor. “Isn't it beautiful?”
Celeste drew nearer to get a closer look. The painting showed a lavender field at sunset, the purple blooms glowing in golden light. It was lovely and clearly the work of a skilled hand.
“It's unsigned,” Noah explained. “Part of the mystery. The collector spent years trying to identify the artist but never could.”
“Sometimes the mystery is part of the beauty,” Ruby muttered, still studying the painting. “Not everything needs to be explained.”
Was that directed at her? Celeste couldn't tell. Ruby's expression was focused on the watercolor.
“This,” Ruby said suddenly, picking up a silver necklace with a small moonstone pendant. “How much?”
“That's a lovely piece from the Edwardian era. Forty dollars.”
“I'll take it.” Ruby turned to Celeste, and for the first time since the incident upstairs, their eyes met fully. “And before you say anything, it's a gift. For putting up with my spontaneous detours.”
“Ruby, you don't need to—”
“Too late. Already decided.” She moved behind Celeste, the necklace dangling from her fingers. “May I?”
The air around Celeste halted. She should say no and do anything except stand there while Ruby's fingers brushed the nape of her neck, sending electricity down her spine.
But she couldn't make herself move.
Ruby gathered her hair gently, draping it over one shoulder with a touch so careful it made Celeste's throat tight. The cool metal of the necklace touched her skin first, followed by Ruby's fingertips as she worked the clasp.
“There,” Ruby murmured, her hands lingering for just a fraction too long before pulling away.
Celeste touched the pendant, the stone cool against her sternum. When she turned, Ruby was watching her with an expression that made Celeste's knees feel unstable.
“It suits you,” Noah said cheerfully, completely oblivious to the charged moment he'd just witnessed. “Brings out your eyes.”
Ruby purchased a few more items—vintage postcards showing scenes of old Chicago, a small landscape painting of mountains at dawn and an ornate letter opener with a mother-of-pearl handle that looked like it belonged in a Gothic novel.
“You ladies take care now,” Noah said as he rang up the purchases. “And seriously, come back anytime you're passing through. It's been a real pleasure having people who appreciate the artistry in these old things.”
He followed them out to the car, chatting enthusiastically about a Civil War-era pocket watch that would be arriving next week.
“You're sure you can't stay another day?” He grinned hopefully. “I promise the wait would be worth it.”
“Afraid not,” Ruby said. “But we'll definitely come back if we're in the area again.”
“You'd better! I'll keep an eye out for more art pieces. Seems like that's your passion. I can email you pictures if you’re interested,” Noah winked at Ruby, then turned to Celeste.
“And you, young lady, don't let this one drag you into too much trouble. Though a little trouble might do you some good.”
Celeste felt her cheeks heat. Did everyone see through her so easily?
“Thanks for everything,” Ruby said. “For the hospitality, the lunch and letting us stay. You've been incredibly generous.”
“My pleasure! Safe travels, ladies. And remember, it’s never too early or too late to have an adventure. Be sure to let yourselves wander a bit.”
With that said he waved goodbye before heading back into the store.
They stood by the car for a moment, watching him disappear inside.
“He's a character,” Ruby said.
“He's wonderful,” Celeste admitted. “I'm glad we stayed.”
Ruby's smile was soft. “Me too.”
They drove to a diner Ruby spotted two blocks over, a tiny place called Daisy's that looked like it had been frozen in time since the late 60s. This seemed to be the style in this area. Millie’s had been very similar.
“Morning, darlings. Coffee?”
“Please,” they said in unison.
They ordered breakfast—eggs and toast for Celeste, a stack of pancakes for Ruby. The food arrived quickly, steaming and fresh. Ruby attacked her pancakes with enthusiasm while Celeste picked at her eggs, her appetite still missing.
She snuck glances at Ruby across the table, taking notice of the way syrup caught on her bottom lip and the way her hands moved.
Stop it, Celeste told herself. But her traitorous eyes wouldn't listen.
After breakfast, they headed back to the parking lot. The sun was higher now, promising a warm day.
“Want me to drive for a bit?” Ruby offered, jingling the car keys. “You've been behind the wheel since the trip began.”
“I feel better driving.”
Ruby studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. Control thing?”
“Preference thing.”
“Right.” Ruby handed over the keys and moved to the passenger side, whistling a low tune.
Celeste slid behind the wheel, grateful for something to focus on. Driving she could do. There were rules, predictable patterns, clear right and wrong answers.
Unlike whatever was happening between her and the woman nearby.
The car moved for a while in silence before Ruby spoke again.
“So, about what happened upstairs.”
Celeste shook her head. “I thought I made it clear—”
“You're attracted to me. Which means either you're bi, or pan, or—” Ruby paused.
The silence stretched and Celeste kept her eyes on the road, watching the center line disappear under the hood. Her mouth was dry and her heart was hammering.
This was it. The moment she'd been avoiding for so many years.