After she’d taken a long drink, the column of her throat working while she swallowed, he tried to be at least a little smooth.
“So…what’s your name?” And failed.
She could have easily blown him off, but she didn’t. “Ruby.”
“Like the slippers?” Wow, she’s probably never heard that one before. Way to go, Carter. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing his mom was trying to get him a date, because at this rate, he’d never get one on his own.
“That’s me. There’s no place like home and all that.”
She looked into her glass, which was half-empty, and she seemed…sad. As though he’d said the wrong thing, and he hadn’t meant to. He liked her. In the few minutes they’d spent together, she’d been funny and strong and, well, pretty. Not in the way the women sitting at his table were, with their professionally groomed…everything and their sparkly dresses. He liked the russet color of her hair and her dark eyes. He’d bet even squeezing that ass through her polyester pants would be a dream.
But jeez, he shouldn’t head straight there. One-night stands were easy, but he found himself curious about Ruby. Wanting to talk to her and charm her and…ask her on a date. Who even was he? Not that he was some Lothario or anything, but picnics and barefoot walks on the beach and such weren’t generally his MO. Must be the wedding in the air, or maybe that she looked as though she could use a night off, someone to show her a good time. Whatever, he could at least give her his name.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you officially. I’m Nate. Nate Carter, brother of the bride. The blonde. The other one is my best friend.”
He put his hand out to shake, and Ruby took it. Gingerly at first, but then with a firm grip, which was no less than he expected from her. There was nothing weak or half-assed about this woman. Did she play tennis? Maybe if she did, he could invite her to camp to play sometime. He might be able to best her with technique and strength, but he bet she’d put up a good fight. Plus, he wouldn’t mind seeing her in tennis clothes. What her generous, rounded bottom would look like in a tennis skirt…unf.
“Nice to meet you too, Nate Carter.” She swallowed the rest of her water and stood. “As much as I’ve enjoyed this, and appreciate you bringing me out here and getting me a drink, I really should get back to work. They don’t pay me to flirt with guests.”
“Were you flirting with me?” He’d like to think so, but sometimes men thought women who were merely being polite were flirting with them, and he didn’t want to be that guy.
“Not very well, apparently. I’m out of practice. But really, thank you. You’re a good egg.”
It should’ve felt condescending. Dismissive. Maybe it was, a little. But he got the feeling that Ruby didn’t give out praise lightly, nor did she seem to think there were all that many good eggs in the world. He’d take it.
“Anytime. And at least let me walk you back in.”
Her teeth sunk into her full bottom lip. “I appreciate that, but it would probably make things more awkward for me.”
Right, okay. That was not what he was going for at all. “What time is your shift over?”
“Not until the last of your drunk asses go home.”
She said it with a smile and not unkindly, but it still embarrassed him. Of course she wouldn’t be done working until the reception was over. And what was he going to do—ask her for a dance? He would and wouldn’t care what she was wearing, but it would make her feel uncomfortable, and he knew they’d garner at least some side-eye. While he could tell people to go fuck themselves, he was aware she couldn’t.
“Right. Sorry. I’m kind of an idiot sometimes.”
“At least you admit it.” She laughed, and it was throaty and deep, and it made him even more desperate. How could he make sure this wasn’t the last time he saw her? “And you’re trying to be nice. I’ll take it that way. But seriously.”
She thumbed toward the door, and her mouth made a reluctant shape.
“Yeah.”
Then he watched her go.
He waited a couple of minutes because she’d seemed to think it would be better if she went back without him and also because he wasn’t in a hurry to get back to his table. He knew Cecily and Stacey had been trying to help mop up the dressing Ruby had spilled in his lap, but it was still unnerving to have women patting your junk.
***
Anya wasn’t thrilled she’d bailed for a few minutes, but the relief when she came back overrode most of her annoyance. And then she remembered to be a human.
“Hey, are you okay? It’s not like you to leave the other servers in the lurch.”
Ruby sighed, but it was better to spill than for Anya to find out some other way. Plus, giving her a reason she’d skipped out was preferable to Anya thinking she was lazy and not calling the next time she had a job open. “If you consider almost passing out and spilling salad dressing in the bride’s brother’s lap okay, then sure.”
The look of shock and horror on Anya’s face was practically textbook, and there really wasn’t any need for that. She wouldn’t be getting an angry call from Nate Carter—or his mom if he could help it, she was sure.
“Don’t worry, he was super cool about it. He was the one who insisted on taking me outside to get some air.”
Now that she wasn’t so concerned, Anya got a sly look on her face. Probably because she was overly invested in Ruby’s personal life—or really, lack thereof. So not necessary. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days? Going outside for some air? I’ll have to remember that.”
What could Ruby respond with except a death glare? “That’s ridiculous, and you know it. I don’t date. I don’t have time for that. And even if I did, it wouldn’t be some prep-tacular dude who probably grew up in Greenwich or some shit.”
“Pfft, I didn’t say anything about dating. You are wound so tight you’re going to snap, and maybe it’d be better if you did that with a screaming orgasm than going postal at Landry’s someday when someone asks to try on the same pair of sunglasses for the third time and then doesn’t buy any at all.”
Okay, that was fair. She really fucking hated that, and she did occasionally have to lock herself in the women’s restroom to scream into her balled-up apron instead of yelling at her customers. Then they definitely wouldn’t buy anything. And Anya was sort of right. It had been a while. Which truthfully, she didn’t mind. She hadn’t been lying when she said she didn’t have time for a man. She had her two jobs, she had Chloe, and she’d been trying to stretch her meager budget just a little further.
Men…wanted things. A woman’s time, her attention, her praise, her body…her money. Well, at least Nate wouldn’t want that from her. If his parents could afford a party like this, he was probably doing okay for himself. Probably had some kind of fancy degree from some swank school he hadn’t had to worry about getting a scholarship to. That must be nice.
None of that mattered anyway. Nate was here for his sister and his best friend’s wedding, and he’d be leaving when the weekend was over. She’d seen how he eyed her butt—he’d probably be down for a one-night stand if she made the offer. He’d been kind too, and had a nice mouth. A mouth that might feel good to kiss. And his hands…
“Oh, you’re thinking about it, aren’t you, Ruby Tuesday? Well, you know I’m all for it. Just go make up some of the time you skipped out on your team, okay?”
Right, yes, she was supposed to be hustling so her fellow servers wouldn’t want to kill her after she’d forced them to pick up her slack. She wasn’t sure exactly how much harder she could hustle, but thinking about Nate’s hands—how strong and capable and gentle they’d been and what they might do to her…well, that helped. Maybe put a little spring in her step as she hefted a tray on her shoulder and gave Anya a wave on her way out the swinging doors to serve some more partygoers.
Chapter Four
That had been a good party. Even Nate’s mom had seemed to think so. She and his dad had danced when the reception moved to
the boathouse for the getting-down portion of the evening, and Nate envied them. They’d built this life together, and while not everything had been sunshine and roses, they seemed to still like each other, which was more than he could say for a lot of people who’d been married for thirty-four years. And then, of course, there were Van and Willa who’d been impossibly shmoopy, which was what you were supposed to do at your own wedding.
And to be fair, Van’s shmoopy was more shmoop-lite, and she fucking better well bring it because that’s what Wills would want today.
Whatever, they were adorable, and they’d be very happy together. They’d better be, otherwise he’d have some tough decisions to make about who to spend holidays with, and he didn’t want to do that. So only happiness was allowed. He’d love to see either of their faces if he decreed that. They’d probably start sniping at each other just to spite him. He was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.
He was also smart enough to have danced with each of the women at his table, but none more than once. It was the polite thing to do, the thing he was obligated to do, but he didn’t want to make it seem as if it were anything more than that. They were nice, but there wasn’t a spark with any of them. Not like with Ruby.
He’d see her periodically, running around, carrying trays laden with desserts to be delivered and clearing ridiculous amounts of plates and silverware all heaped on her tray. Seriously, some of the piles she managed were so high, he swore she could have her very own circus act. It wasn’t all just admiring her skills, though. He might have also been admiring more…physical aspects of her. And possibly, just maybe, though she’d probably murder him for doing so, keeping an eye on her to make sure she didn’t look as though she was going to pass out again. She didn’t.
It was weird because there were at least a dozen servers bustling around at any given time, but his gaze was always drawn to her.
When the clock struck midnight, his parents started herding everyone out. There’d be some small after-parties going on in the lodge and in the cabins. His mother’s brothers didn’t get to see each other often because they were pretty well scattered around the country, but when they did, it was guaranteed to be a full-on boozefest. Georgina Carter had come by her impulse to spike every beverage within a hundred yards honestly.
He helped his parents steer family members, friends, and other hangers-on back to their cabins or put them into cars to make their way back to their bed-and-breakfasts. He could follow some of his cousins to their cabin where he knew there was a crate of hard liquor and three times as many mixers waiting—hell, he’d taken them to the package store, so he knew it was a decent selection. But as much fun as it would be to catch up, something compelled him to go to the dining lodge.
It had been an hour since the staff had started cleaning up, and they’d done an incredible job. It almost looked as though the Carter clan had never descended upon the place. There was still vacuuming and sweeping and stuff to be done, but it looked pretty good. Maybe good enough that Ruby would be calling it quits for the night.
Although after a night like tonight, she’d likely be ready to go home and get some sleep. He wouldn’t blame her; she’d worked her ass off. Hell, the clucky mother hen part of him that had gotten after his frat brothers at MIT to go the fuck to sleep instead of slamming another Red Bull would probably come out, and he’d be telling her to go home and get some shut-eye. Not set her alarm for the next day, maybe take a bath or get a pedicure. His mom would be hitting a spa tomorrow for sure, and while she’d had to play hostess, it wasn’t as physically taxing as the work Ruby had been doing all night. He’d tell her to take it easy, but hopefully not before getting her number.
He headed to the back of the dining lodge and almost tripped on someone sitting on the back steps in the dark. When he looked down to apologize, his heart beat in a skitter. Ruby. He’d almost tripped on Ruby. He was glad he hadn’t, because him falling in her lap would be way more awkward than her dumping salad dressing in his, but he was kinda delighted that she was there.
“Hey, sorry. What’re you doing back here in the dark?”
She narrowed her eyes, but her mouth curved up at the corner, too. “I was taking a breather before I get in my car. What are you doing back here? Shouldn’t you be getting rowdy with some of the other guests?”
As if to prove her point, there was a chorus of whoops from off in the distance, and Nate had to laugh. But he also scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck, because he liked his cousins, but they could be buffoons. Really fun buffoons, but still. And he’d probably have to deal with some off-color shit from some of them about Willa and Van because god forbid dudes not comment on women’s sex lives. For fuck’s sake. Would it be better to be there to shut it down or just not go altogether?
“I mean, I could, but I wanted to see if I could catch you first.” Catch? No, that didn’t sound right. She wasn’t a fish or some kind of prey. “I mean, see you. Ask for your number. You’re the most interesting person I met all night, and even though two of the women at my table put their numbers in my phone, yours is the one I want.”
Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned the other women? But it was true, and he didn’t want her thinking he was here because he didn’t have other options.
Ruby studied him, and his face got warm. He was a sucker for approval, wanted the people around him to think he was a good person, someone worth spending time with. He didn’t want Ruby to think of him as a lightweight, someone to be blown off. He wanted to know that Ruby still thought he was a good egg. He’d liked that.
“You could walk me to my car.”
“Yeah, of course, absolutely.”
He’d walk her anywhere and be glad to. Nate offered Ruby a hand to stand up, but she ignored it, pushing off the stoop and brushing some stray pine needles from her pants and then hefting her bag over her shoulder as though it weighed a thousand pounds. He’d seen what Willa hauled around in her purse, so maybe it did. If he offered to carry it for her, would she think he was implying she wasn’t tough enough to handle it? She obviously was. He’d wager she was tough enough to handle just about anything.
***
They exchanged pleasantries and small talk on the way to her car, and awareness thrummed through Ruby. This man liked her. This man who was polite and respectful and handsome liked her enough to walk her to her car instead of getting fucked up with friends, relatives, or one of the women from his table.
It shouldn’t have been a big deal because it meant next to nothing, really, but it was a nice reminder that there were decent guys out in the world. And even if Nate Carter was going back to his corner of it after this weekend was over, she might still be able to find one. Eventually, when she had time and space to breathe. And when she did, she wouldn’t have to settle.
At the moment, though, she did kind of want to settle. Settle for getting fucked six ways to Sunday in the back of her car because Nate in that tux was fist-bitingly good. It wasn’t often that part of her got awakened because she couldn’t afford for it to be, but she was definitely feeling it. And by it, she meant that wetly blossoming part of her between her legs.
Yep, even if Nate wasn’t game for a quick roll in the hay, he’d be headlining her fantasies tonight as she got herself off and probably featuring heavily in her masturbation fodder rotation for quite some time.
Finally they reached the staff parking lot. Camp hadn’t officially started so it was only about half-full, and her beat-to-shit Volvo station wagon, Clementine, stood out. It was definitely the oldest car there, but it still ran, and it was safe and reliable. Couldn’t ask for much more than that.
She thumbed toward Clementine and offered Nate a wry smile. “This is me. Thanks for walking me over. I walk a lot by myself, but it’s nice sometimes to…not.”
“Anytime.” That fucker meant it too, and it struck her pretty hard, the unfairness of it all. Fairness was a tricky thing, though, and would she really choose any differently? Had Tony been a good c
hoice? Not particularly, but her ex-husband had given her Chloe—hadn’t even made a peep about wanting custody of his infant daughter—and she wouldn’t give Chloe up for anything. Not for a different job, not for a better car, and certainly not for some guy she barely knew.
Ruby hesitated, her car keys clutched in her hand. If Nate wrinkled his nose when she propositioned him, it would suck, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Hell, guys that pretty were often not so great in bed because they never had to be. But Nate had shown himself to be fairly attentive and that was a good starting point. So what the hell? What would she lose? The good opinion of some yacht clubber who she’d never see again?
The thought of Nate on the deck of a boat being all competent with ropes and sails and…other stuff was what did it. Instead of heading to the driver’s side door, she popped the trunk, sat on the edge, and patted the space next to her.
“Want to make out?”
***
Nate got propositioned pretty regularly. Hell, he’d had a couple of offers tonight, which he’d politely declined in hopes that this very thing might happen. And here it was, his wish come true. Ruby was inviting him into the back of her orange station wagon—which was a fucking awesome ride—and asking him if he wanted to make out. Hell to the yes he did. He’d be happy to do it here, but he could at least offer an alternative. After all, if he was lucky enough to have a cabin to himself—and he was—he should make good use of it.
“I do. Yes, I do, very much. We could go back to my—”
Ruby shook her head. “I can’t fall asleep here—I have to work tomorrow. And by tomorrow, I mean today. In a few hours. If we fool around in a bed, I might never get up. Back of my car won’t be super comfortable so there’s no way I’m dozing off back here.”
Love, All (Camp Firefly Falls Book 19) Page 3