Chapter 32
Sebastian
THE REPAIRS WERE COMING along better than I’d expected.
The crew had reinforced the roof structure on the main house, and the sagging section looked solid again. One of the exterior walls that had suffered water damage was drying out properly, and the new support beams were already in place.
I helped carry the last few insulation rolls.
“You’re making the rest of us look bad,” one of the workers called.
“Just here for the heavy lifting,” I replied.
“Give up NASA yet?” his friend chimed in.
“Depends,” I called back. “You hiring?”
They laughed, and I smiled despite the twinge inside. Another day or two of good progress, and I’d be ready to sign off on the permit. That meant leaving and going back to Houston.
I was determined to resolve things with Ruby before then. I still carried her marks on my skin—a faint hickie on my neck, a few scratches down my back, a round imprint on my shoulder. And a gouge in my heart.
Thinking back to what Dave had told me earlier, his mention of the warehouse finally clicked—the honeysuckle I’d caught a whiff of at the café hadn’t been my imagination.
By early evening, after jogging along the bay to the town and back, I stepped out of my cabin, fresh from the shower, feeling the salty breeze on my skin.
A waiter from the Bar & Grill walked up with the takeout I’d ordered.
The inn offered the service for couples who didn’t feel like leaving their room.
Tonight, it was just for me. With a Zoom meeting ahead and Ruby so obviously avoiding me all day, I wasn’t in the mood to chase her down or pretend otherwise.
My takeout bag swung from my hand as I turned back toward the cabin, just when footsteps crunched on the gravel, making me glance up.
Ruby was crossing the path toward the forecourt, clearly hoping I wouldn’t notice her.
Her hair was damp, braided back, her face bare and prettier for it, the lingering last rays of sun catching on the two pale curls escaping to frame it.
Her blue eyes were clear, not hazy and dazed like last night.
The look in them was unguarded, even as she tried to act casual.
She slowed when she realized she’d been caught.
“Hey,” she said, voice too light, too casual. “I was going to come talk to you. Maybe even have dinner. But, um ... girls’ night. I promised.”
She was lying about the first part. Badly.
I held her gaze and let her fumble for a moment before I said, steady and even, “Her name was Julie. It was just coffee. For my dad. Nothing happened.”
My words clearly caught her unprepared.
Ruby exhaled and averted her eyes, pretending to study the trees as if the breeze had suddenly become fascinating. “Why are you telling me that?”
“Because I think you need to hear it.”
“Please. I didn’t even come over to say hi.” She looked back at me, chin tipped high.
“Exactly.”
I saw the struggle flicker over her face, the crease between her eyebrows deepening, like she was losing an argument with herself that she didn’t want to admit she was having. A muscle in her jaw twitched, her nostrils flared.
“I’m not jealous,” she blurted, already turning on her heel.
“Just territorial,” I called after her.
Her stride faltered for a beat before she walked faster, almost marched, disappearing down the path.
As a structural engineer, I understood stress, load, heat, and pressure—how something could hold until the right force made it shift or break.
Ruby Locke was all of that and more, built strong in ways most people never learned to be.
I knew now that last night had been her armor cracking under a lightning bolt of heat and jealousy.
Because she felt way more than she was willing to admit.
I wanted that truth unlocked, I wanted Ruby to shift.
But not if it meant breaking something in her forever.