by Vivian Wood
Suddenly she was moving her hands lightning quick. Perfect little stitches cascaded from her needles as they flashed and clicked. I looked around at the other women. They were all doing the same thing, but only Ruby's project interested me. The way her fingers darted in practiced, controlled motions reminded me of the complicated finger-picking on an intricate guitar solo. "You're a knitting rockstar," I informed her.
She grinned and looked down. "Hardly," she disagreed. "You should see Moira's stuff. She's not here today, but she knits these lace shawls that I swear look like spiderwebs."
"Sounds pretty," I said. It did. I'd never had any interest in knitting before, but I kind of wanted to see these shawls for myself now.
The perky blonde suddenly gasped. "Oh Ruby!" she cried, diving for her own well organized bag. "I forgot! I brought that handspun!"
I looked at Ruby, confused. Apparently, bringing 'handspun' was a good thing, because Ruby practically swooned. "Oh my god, the angora?"
The blonde was nodding as she pulled out a hunk of something that looked like rope made out of clouds. "From Dandelion, yup?"
Ruby took the cloud-rope reverently and set it in her lap. She petted it for a moment and I swear she licked her lips. "What is that?" I asked. I could see it was yarn, but it was wound in loops, with sections of colors bleeding into each other. The effect was like some kind of circular rainbow.
Ruby looked up, still petting her treasure. "Cora's father keeps angora bunnies" she explained to me. "She spins their fur into yarn."
I blinked. "For real?" I looked at perky Cora. "Spin as in like Rumplestiltskin or something? People still do that?"
Cora laughed. "Yes people still do." She turned to Ruby. "You need to wind it into a ball, of course."
Ruby grimaced into her bag. "I forgot my niddy-noddy."
The two of them were speaking a completely foreign language. "Your what now?"
"Helps wind yarn." She glanced at me. "You know how you were looking for something to do?"
I sat up straighter. "Yes?"
"Hold your arms out."
I smiled and reached for her.
She slid the circle of yarn around my wrists. It felt like she'd clapped me into handcuffs. "Now. Hold still."
Chapter Eleven
Ruby
He held still.
There was no reason for me to make him hold the yarn. I could easily have wound it using the back of one of the cafe chairs.
But there was something satisfying about making Jonah King sit perfectly still with his arms out, as I ignored him and wound my precious yarn
Or tried to ignore him, anyway.
It was kind of hard to do. First, because my hand brushed his every time I passed the ever growing ball of angora around it. Second because he was watching me like I was some kind of alien life form. And I supposed I was, to him anyway.
"I bet you never thought you'd grow up to be a yarn holder," I said, suddenly challenging him. I felt this strong need to tear him down. I wanted him down here with me. On my level.
But it seemed like no matter how hard I tugged, he stayed up there, lofty, on his pedestal. Above me. Above Crown Creek. "I always knew that if I worked hard and stuck to my plan, I'd be a yarn holder sooner or later," he said with a disarming grin.
Goddamn that dimple. All the Kings had it. Claire had it, right in the center of her cheek. But while on her face, it made her look cute, on Jonah it looked...
Sexy?
I ducked my head and wound the ball double time. I was winding too tight, straining the fibers, but I didn't care any more. I needed to stop touching Jonah. "Why are you here?" I asked again. He'd almost answered me before, his long pause by the doorway betraying how much thought he'd given to coming here today. This time I was going to find out for real.
Dimple. "To be your yarn holder. Clearly."
"Jonah?"
"Yes?"
"Cut the shit." His face fell for a moment before the mask slid back into place and the dimple showed again. "You have no idea how to cut the shit, do you?" I mocked him.
"They're cleaning out Gid's house today," he blurted.
He looked away, his arm jerking the yarn. "Hey," I said automatically, moving him back into place.
"Sorry," he said.
Then his words hit me, seconds later. Like thunder booming after a faraway lightning strike. "What? They are?" I bleated.
The first thing I felt was panic, a running racing, desperate feeling. I felt like I could sprint right down the road to the King house and snatch the garbage bag out of Izzy's hand. It was too soon, too fucking soon.
"Izzy wants to move out as soon as she can." He blinked and looked back at me. "I guess it's too hard." His gaze caught mine and I knew he was feeling the exact same way I was. Panicked. Restless. Helpless.
I ducked away from his gaze. I didn't want to see all the hurt that showed there. Gid used to go on and on about his favorite nephew, and for the first time I was seeing that the adoration was mutual. Taking a deep breath, I tested my voice to make sure it was steady, "Well - ?" My voice was a lot higher than I meant it to be. "I guess I can see that."
I passed the ball around one last time. Jonah let his arms fall with a sort of resigned sigh. "I mean, yeah. I can too of course. But all of his things. His music. His instruments. They're all going to be gone. What's going to be left of him?"
Something inside of me fluttered with guilt, like a bird caught in a snare. That box was still right there in the center of my living room. That was what was left of him. I wondered if Jonah could hear my heart racing, because I sure could. "Did you look and see what was in there?" I hedged, hoping for one second that Gid had made duplicates. Maybe all my guilt was unnecessary.
He shrugged and looked away, a reddish tinge forming at the top of his cheek. "I couldn't look." He looked back at me in a challenge. "I guess I was too chickenshit."
That guilt fluttered again, then turned into a knife that stabbed me just under my ribcage. Right near the heart. "You should be nicer to yourself," I said and maybe I was talking to myself too.
He rolled his eyes. "Oh, like how you're nice to me?"
Another stab and then the fluttering of the trapped, guilty bird. "I'm Claire's friend," I reminded him. "I'm Gid's friend. I was there at the funeral. I helped with the wake. I'd say I've been pretty nice overall."
His eyes darted away from mine. "Yeah, I guess you've done all you should."
Stab. Flutter.
The guilt bubbled up. "Jonah," I started to say before I caught the words and bit them back into my mouth. I'd almost told him, but the anger in his eyes made me stop. Before I was convinced Jonah didn't deserve the box. Now I wasn't convinced that I did. But by the grief in Jonah's eyes, I could only imagine how much it'd hurt him that Gid gave me the box and not him. And I didn't want to hurt him anymore than he was already hurting.
Jonah looked at me like I had two heads. I needed to finish my sentence. Hastily I pulled something from my ass. "You want to learn to knit?" I babbled, holding out my needles. "It is soothing."
"I could use some soothing."
"I mean you play a guitar," I said, talking faster, trying to convince us both. "You obviously have skilled fingers."
He looked at me. The way my words hung in the air, laced with double meaning, made me wonder if I should blush. I certainly felt like I should.
Then he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. I was acutely aware of the rest of the knitting club watching us, but I couldn't seem to tear myself away from his eyes. He tilted his chin up a little and I inadvertently licked my lips.
He smiled.
And the he kissed me.
I gasped when his lips brushed mine, making my mouth fall open which only made it easier for him to tease the tip of his tongue lightly across my lower lip. Like he was testing my reaction and when I didn't move, he slid his hand up to cup my neck. I shivered under his touch. "Jonah," I breathed.
And then pulled back,
startled. I stared at him, breathing hard. "What the hell are you doing?" Flustered, I wiped my mouth, trying to brush away the traces of him that still lingered on my lips. My heart was racing like I'd run a marathon and my stomach was somehow in my throat and down near my knees at the same damn time.
He licked his lips and pulled back, and every cell in my body wanted him close again. The whole knitting club had gone silent, watching. I shifted in my seat and started gathering up my things. "Jonah," I blurted. "You want to get some lunch?"
Chapter Twelve
Ruby
The entire walk over to the Chit Chat Cafe, I was at war with myself. I ached - literally ached - for him to kiss me again at the same time I knew that would be the biggest mistake ever. He was Jonah fucking King. I knew him. Even if I hadn't practically grown up in his house and heard all the stories, I'd still know this was a huge mistake because he was world famous. I could look him up on Wikipedia right now and get a list of scandals and lawsuits and pissed of exes as long as my arm.
And there was also the small matter of him being my best friend's brother. Claire would kill me. She would literally murder me if she knew I'd kissed her brother. Or rather I'd let him kiss me.
But knowing that didn't stop me from wanting to kiss him again.
We blew into the cafe in a flurry of stomps and puffing of cheeks. The tip of Jonah's nose was red which had the odd effect of making his hazel eyes look green. He caught me looking and brushed his gloved hand against it. "I look like Rudolph, don't I?"
I tried to hide my laugh and then didn't bother. "You moonlighting as a reindeer?"
He chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. I know. Gabe thinks it's hilarious too. Cold doesn't agree with me."
I was about to ask what the hell he was doing in Western New York in the wintertime then, but realized something before I mentioned it. "Gabe says that, huh?"
The corner of his mouth lifted ruefully. "He did talk to me at one time. Back in the day."
I nodded. "Yeah. He talks about you now."
Jonah lifted a wary eyebrow. "What does he say?"
I was saved from stammering by the hostess coming over to seat us. I took the moment to collect myself, torn between some strange, misguided loyalty to Gabriel King and his status as the aggrieved brother, and Jonah, the brother sitting down with me now, blowing on the tips of his fingers and looking like he belonged here. In the past few hours, I'd noticed that some of his studied mannerisms had fallen away. Two days ago, he would have never let himself be seen red-nosed and shivering, I was sure of it.
I wondered how many layers there were to this man I'd just kissed. How deep down you'd have to dig to find the kernel of authentic Jonah under the polished veneer of "Jonah King." I had no idea, but I knew that lying to him wouldn't peel that veneer away faster, so I told the truth. "He says you're an asshole," I finally supplied.
Jonah winced only a little before he caught himself. "See," he sighed, looking at his menu and avoiding my eyes. "I don't really get why he thinks that."
I looked at him. The urge to kiss him was draining away like water from a bath. I rolled my eyes. Maybe there weren't any layers here at all. Maybe he was just clueless. "Because," I stated flatly. "You stayed with your manager even after everything that happened."
His menu fell from his open hand with a smack loud enough to make me jump. I stared at him, startled as he pressed his palms flat on the table. His entire face was beet red now, and the rage I saw there had me reaching for my purse, ready to run out of here if he suddenly blew his top.
But he took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Really," he said, sounding out of breath. "That's why? That's what he thinks I did?"
I suddenly regretted ever telling him. This was family drama that had nothing to do with me. "Where the hell is the waitress?" I breathed, holding my menu up to block out the sight of him.
He reached over and yanked the menu back down again. "Hey!" I protested.
"Tell me Ruby," he demanded. "That's what Gabe thinks happened?"
"I don't know," I said through clenched teeth. "That's what I've heard him say. That's what Claire said he was pissed about when she told me you guys had stopped talking."
"I didn't though," Jonah protested, a little too loudly. He looked around and quieted himself. "I fired Bennett that moment. That fucking second. You think I'd do my brother wrong like that?"
A flicker of doubt ignited in my brain. He looked so wounded right now. I had to struggle not to slip into teacher mode, not to give him a hug and offer a Band-aid and a lollipop. And another kiss. "He seems to think so," I said, as neutrally as I could.
"Well he's wrong," Jonah asserted. "I think I know what happened but he's wrong. He's believing Bennett's word over mine." He narrowed his eyes angrily. "And that's sort of bullshit if you ask me."
I leaned back and eyed the circling waitresses. Tension clouded our table, so thick you could cut it with a knife. "I need to go to the restroom," I said quickly.
He didn't look at me as I hurriedly grabbed my things and rushed away from our table. It was several degrees cooler in the ladies room than out in the overheated cafe. I touched my cheeks, feeling the heat rising off my skin and leaned over the sink to splash water on my face.
Ten minutes ago I had been ready to wrap myself around him. Now I wanted to wrap my hands around his throat. Never had I met someone who could get me so worked up like this. I wanted to shake him, the embrace him. I wanted to defend him from the wrong Gabe had done him, then I wanted to slap him across the face for letting all these years go by without righting it. I felt like screaming.
Why did Gabe believe that Jonah had kept that manager on? And more than that, why had I, why had his whole family so readily believed it as well? And even more than that, why hadn't Jonah done anything to fix their wrong opinion of him?
I could feel it. The need to intervene. Willa called it my "adoption instinct," the need to take other people under my wing and fix their problems. My therapist said it was a remnant of losing my dad so young, of trying to play partner to my single mother instead of letting myself just be the daughter. It was something I struggled with and I had to fight tooth and nail not to give in to it right now.
I could fix the King Brother feud today. I could get Jonah and Gabe talking and they could hash everything out. Then we could all listen to Gid's music together as the camera panned away and the music played over the credits.
I shook my head. Life didn't work that way. I needed to keep my nose out of this. I needed to ignore how nice that kiss was and go back to being a disinterested third party. I was too involved already.
It was unbelievably cheesy to nod at myself in the mirror after making a big decision, but that's what I did before heading back out to the table with a smile on my face. "Hey," I said, sliding back into the booth.
Something seemed different. He was propping his head up with one hand while he tapped restlessly on the table with the other. I looked at the table and realized what was missing. "Where are our menus?"
"Hmm? Oh, I ordered."
"Um, you did?" I squeaked. "For both of us?"
He smiled like I was a particularly slow, but still slightly charming child. "Yeah. The waitress came while you were in the bathroom and you seemed like you were hungry, so I didn't want her to go away again."
I stared at him, not comprehending. "You... Ordered for me."
"Yeah she said it'd be out soon." He tapped his fingers on the table some more. "Let me ask you something, when Claire told you I fucked Gabe over like that, even though I didn't, did you believe her?"
I shook my head, mentally digging in my heels and refusing to get pulled into this. "Don't change the subject here, Jonah."
"From what?"
"You ordering for me!" I whisper-shouted. Anger was heating my neck again. I couldn't believe that I'd almost fallen for it. That dimple and those hurt hazel eyes. That stellar kiss. He'd been wounded and vulnerable and because of that I'd almost believed he was differe
nt from what I'd always known him to be.
An arrogant, attention-hungry asshole.
"You had no idea what I wanted to order, I never told you."
He leaned forward. "I took a guess," he said. "Like I said, she came when you were in the bathroom - "
"So send her away!" I interrupted, throwing up my hands. A few heads were turning in our direction and I definitely recognized a parent from my classroom, but I didn't care. "This isn't the nineteen fucking fifties!"
The corner of his mouth twitched. "Sure Ruby," he scoffed. "You'll make the guy pay for your lunch on a date, but this isn't the nineteen fifties."
My mouth fell open. "Wait, you think this is a date?"
"You think it's not?"
I stared at him in disbelief, unable to form words for a second. "Well, if this is your idea of a date, Jonah King," I seethed. "Then I feel really bad for your ex-girlfriends. So far we've talked about nothing but your problems and then you went ahead and ordered for me without even asking if it was okay."
Jonah smirked. "Jesus, Ruby. What are you so mad about?"
I threw down my napkin. "You're unbelievable, you know that?" I stabbed my finger into the table. "This right here is why Gabe is so pissed at you," I seethed. I was angry at him and angry at myself for thinking I could fix this. This went way deeper than just a disagreement over management. "This is why Beau and Finn sided with him against you and why Claire rolls her eyes every time someone brings you up." His face stiffened, but I couldn't stop myself. "Because you make these decisions that affect other people that aren't yours to make!"
His jaw clenched and relaxed. Clenched and relaxed. I waited for him to tell me to butt out, that it was none of my damn business. Then I would tell him. I'd let him know that his uncle had given me his legacy to care for because he knew I would keep his wishes in mind. That it really was my business, after all. I would throw it in his face that Gid had chosen me over him and make him realize what an asshole he was being.