Loving Ruby: The Riverstone Series Book 2 - Standalone

by Roya Carmen

  She smiles. “I’d love to.”

  I smile down at her. She’s still stark naked.

  As if she can read my unholy thoughts, she grins at her feet. “I better get dressed.”

  “Yes, you better. Or I might do something we’ll both regret,” I tease. “I can’t be held responsible for my actions when you’re naked like that.”

  She laughs and bounces back to my bed. She furrows her brows as she wraps her brassiere around her torso. “Turn around. Don’t look, you creepy pervert.”

  I laugh loudly. “Oh, so now you’re shy.” But I oblige and turn around, thinking that, yes, it would be best if I stopped looking.

  It seems the more I look, the deeper I fall.

  Ruby

  The sky is overcast as we walk up the paved road. I don’t hold his hand. It wouldn’t feel right. Today, I’m just a friend. My gaze bounces around, runs the length of the huge cemetery. So many headstones, so many people who lay under the earth, people who were once alive and vibrant, people who mattered. Men and women, children who were surrounded by others who loved them, daughters and sons, parents, spouses, lovers… friends.

  My eyes well up, and I tell myself to shape up. Truth be told, cemeteries freak me out. It’s not the idea of rotting flesh under the earth. Scenes from horror movies don’t come to mind. It’s the reality of the brevity of life. We don’t often think about the finality of our lives as we go about our daily routines. We take it for granted. Work, traffic, money, dry cleaning, looming deadlines, kids, appointments, the perceived brush-off by a coworker or friend – those are the things that occupy our minds. One is forced to face death when one is surrounded by it. The whole thing makes me impossibly sad.

  I can’t help thinking about the people I’ve lost – my beloved parents, my brother. He was so young, and every time I remember him, I hurt. I don’t think I’ll ever get over it. My parents’ passings were easier because they weren’t sudden. Although my father’s death was unexpected, his health had deteriorated so much since my mother’s death that his passing wasn’t completely surprising. But Ken was only thirty – too young to die. Olivia must have been very young too, around the same age as Ken. August must be consumed by rage as well, angry at the unfairness of life.

  I promised him I’d be by his side today, so here I am. I asked if he would prefer if I stayed by the car while he went to visit Olivia – I thought he might need a little privacy – but he told me he wanted me by his side. I think he’s still a little shaky on his feet. The wide open sky, the buzz of the city, people milling about – he’s relearning how to be part of this world.

  When we finally reach Olivia’s headstone, it’s beautiful. The white marble sets it apart from the surrounding headstones. It seems full of life, a bright star among the dull grey stones next to it. A large carved butterfly sculpture juts out playfully, soaring toward the sky.

  OLIVIA BEAUMONT HYDE

  Cherished daughter, wife, and friend.

  My throat grows thick, and my eyes fill with tears. I press my palm against my face, willing myself to get it together. This is so darn sad.

  “She loved butterflies. She loved painting them.”

  I smile. “I know. I’ve seen a few of her butterfly paintings. They’re amazing.”

  He kneels in front of her grave. “Just like she was.” He sets the bouquet of white roses against the headstone. “White roses were her favourite,” he tells me. “I’m sorry, Olivia. I’m sorry I haven’t visited, but you know me, Liv.”

  I wonder if I should step away, but my feet remain glued to the ground. I want to hear what he says to her.

  “You always had such a hard time getting me out of the house,” he says with a chuckle. “I haven’t changed much. I’ve been stuck in my house these past two years. I’ve wanted to come, but…”

  I drag my feet slowly, retreating. His voice fades, but I can still hear him.

  “I was afraid I’d break if I came to see you… here. I… miss… you,” he manages to choke out before he starts crying.

  God, I can’t take this. His sorrow is contagious, and my tears fall. I keep walking away, not wanting him to see me cry. He probably wouldn’t understand why I’m crying for a woman I never knew. But I’m not crying only for her. These tears are for August. I can’t imagine what he has lived through these past three years. Yes, I’ve lost many, but I have no clue what it’s like to lose the love of your life, your partner.

  And I’m crying for me. What am I doing here? I’m falling for this man. I’m falling for a man who isn’t available, whose heart belongs to someone else. His heart will always be hers. There is no room in there for me. I’ve told myself this was just sex, just fun. I’m helping him. I’m easing him out of his shell. We fool around. He makes me come. I bring him pleasure too. There’s nothing more to it.

  But my heart tells me otherwise. My heart knows I’m full of shit. It breaks as I realize how much August still loves his wife. And I’m jealous. I’m jealous of the love a man feels for his late wife. I’m a horrible human being. I don’t deserve him. I don’t even know if I deserve his friendship.

  August

  Finally visiting her again feels wonderful. I’ve carried so much guilt these past two years for not coming to see her. Her headstone is perfect, just as she was. The last time I was here, it was a bright sunny day. The dull April sky now makes everything appear grey, with the exception of Ruby, who is vivid and colourful in her stylish red jacket.

  When she asks if she should stay by the car, I hesitate, but only for a second or two. I want her by my side even if I do feel a tinge of guilt. The truth is I’m scared to face Olivia’s grave alone. I know Olivia will understand.

  I speak to Olivia and attempt to apologize. I’ve spoken to her before. I speak to her often. Sometimes it’s just a single thought. I look up and smirk at her. “Yes, I’m eating bacon again. I know it will send me to an early grave.” Every time I complete a manuscript and type The End, I look up and say, “Another one all wrapped up, baby.” That was always my line. As soon as I wrote those glorious two words, I’d run around the house, searching for her. With a grin as wide as my face, I’d tell her the good news, and no matter what she was doing, she would stop and wrap her arms around me.

  I don’t say much today though. I just need to be here, even for just a minute. As I press the roses against her headstone, my stomach feels heavy. I know those flowers will die, and I wish they could stay beautiful forever just for her. I don’t intend to sob, but it’s absolutely inevitable. I’m unfortunately not one of those stoic men who never sheds a tear no matter the circumstances. As my early childhood friends liked to point out, I’m a sissy.

  I thank Ruby as we head down the path back to the car. She is uncharacteristically quiet. She heads toward the driver’s seat, and I grab her wrist and hold her back.

  “I think I’d like to drive back home.” I want to feel the rush of driving again. The sense of control, the amazing feeling of freedom you get from the open road. Knowing you can go anywhere, in any direction you wish – I haven’t felt that in so long.

  She smiles at me, obviously pleased.

  She doesn’t say a word throughout the drive, and neither do I. I think both of us just have too much on our minds. My brain is full to the brim. For the first time in ages, I’m excited about life. I’d thought I’d be saddened by the visit to Olivia’s grave, but in fact, I feel quite the contrary. Being amongst the headstones made me evaluate on my own life. I’m alive, and I’ve been wasting every minute. I’ve been taking my life for granted.

  Suddenly, I want to go everywhere. First on the list is a visit to my family back home, and then, who knows? Perhaps I’ll venture out of the country, across the ocean. The whole world is my oyster, but unfortunately, I still feel grounded. I have a ways to go, and I know I can’t do it without my lovely Ruby.

  Ruby. My mind is full of Ruby. I have something special planned for her, and I’m bursting with excitement. I turn toward her
, and my smile fades when I catch her expression. Ruby, who is always so cheerful, looks as if she bears the weight of the world on her delicate shoulders.

  “Are you okay?”

  She smiles softly, but I know it’s solely for my benefit. “I’m fine.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  She sighs. “It’s fine. I’ve just never been comfortable in cemeteries.”

  Suddenly remembering what she has been through – the loss of her brother and parents – I feel like a self-absorbed idiot. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have dragged you along.”

  Her face brightens. “No, I really wanted to be there with you.”

  “Thank you for coming.”

  She smiles, but I know that underneath that smile, there’s something wrong.

  Ruby

  I wake with a start when Trevor jumps on my bed and makes my whole body bounce off my mattress.

  His freckles seem bigger than usual as he cheers, “Happy birthday, Auntie Ruby.”

  The clocks reads 7:35 a.m. I’m annoyed but also very touched. Despite the fact that I would have appreciated the chance to sleep in, I’m thrilled to have him here. He gives me a hug and tells me he has something for me. I turn to see Amber by my door.

  She has a guilty smirk on her face. “I’m sorry. He really wanted to come and wish you a happy birthday.”

  “It’s okay,” I say, ruffling Trevor’s hair. I love doing that. His hair is unbelievably soft.

  Trevor grabs a colourful gift bag from the end of the bed and hands it to me. I take it, making sure to act excited. I am excited, but I kick it up a notch for his sake.

  “What did you get me?” I ask with a wide smile. I pull out an adorable handmade card covered with Trevor’s artwork. That’s one thing Trevor and I have in common – we both like to draw.

  There I am, in illustrated form, wearing a red top. My lips are very big, and my hair is dark. Ginger and I stand next to Trevor, Amber, Aiden, Hershey, and Uncle Flynn – one big happy family. “This is amazing. The details are fabulous.”

  His smile is precious when he says, “Thank you.”

  I set the card on my bedside table. “Let’s see…” I dig into the bag and pull out a jewellery stand that looks like a vintage dress form covered with hooks. I love it. The colours of the dress even match my room – yellow with red accents, all sparkles and glitter. I give him a tight hug. “I love it.” I drop a kiss on his nose because I just can’t help myself.

  “Happy birthday, sweetie,” Amber says as she gives me a hug too. “Guess what I’m making you?”

  She knows what my favourite breakfast is. “Homemade waffles with blueberries?”

  She smiles. “They’ll be ready in five minutes.” Turning to Trevor, she adds, “Now we’ll leave you alone and let you get dressed.”

  As soon as they leave, I slip on a pair of yoga pants and a long tunic. I clip my hair up and brush my teeth. I can’t believe I’m already twenty-seven. It seems just like yesterday I was still in high school. I feel kind of depressed about my birthday though. It’s not so much my age. Well, maybe it is. Most women my age are engaged or married or having babies. Everyone is settling down. But there’s always Sonia. I don’t think she’ll ever set down roots. She’ll forever be the party girl. But I don’t want to be the party girl in ten years, getting picked up by horny men in dives. In ten years, I want my own little home, a kind, sexy husband, and a kid or two as cute as Trevor. And Ginger. She’d live with us.

  This thing with August is just a fantasy. He’s my boss, for heaven’s sake, and he’s not emotionally available. But just the thought of his touch or his eyes on me gets me hot. He makes my belly warm and heavy, makes my heart beat a little faster. Will anyone else ever make me feel this way? It scares me because in my twenty-seven years of life, no one else has ever held that power.

  I manage to not think about August all day. The day is gorgeous, and Amber, Trevor, and I go for a short ride through the trails. Trevor is so cute riding his pony. I haven’t been riding in a while, but Buttercup remembers me; she and I are a team. She loves me because I bring her treats; her favourites are carrots and apples.

  As soon as I get back to the house, I reach for my phone. A crazy part of me hopes August will have left me a message for my birthday. When I only find a silly text from Sonia, my heart sinks. Who am I kidding? He probably has no clue it’s my birthday. Sure, it was on my Facebook page, but…

  I browse through the birthday greetings on my Facebook wall, hoping to catch a glimpse of him… but nothing. I’m such a dreamer. I’m sure he has no time to think about me. This thing between us probably means a lot more to me than it does to him. He’s a unique man, but underneath it all, he’s still just a guy. This is sex. He wants to fuck me. That’s all there is to it. He doesn’t dream of building a life with me. He probably has no feelings for me beyond the physical and the mutual respect of colleagues. I’m sure he also appreciates me as a friend.

  I plop down on my bed and stare at the ceiling – painted white, all odd angles and beams.

  This birthday sucks. I can’t believe I’m letting one man ruin my birthday. I shouldn’t give him that kind of power. I shouldn’t even be upset with him. It’s not his obligation to remember my birthday. The little thing that I seem to forget is that I’m just his employee. Sure, we have fun together, but at the end of the day, I’m just his little minion.

  As I exhale a huge sigh, my mobile rings; the familiar tune shakes me up. It’s probably Sonia. She’s pretty much the only one who ever calls me these days. She probably wants to go bar-hopping. And why the hell not? I’m twenty-seven and single. Bring it on!

  When I glide my finger across the screen, my stomach drops. I’ve been hoping for this call all day, and now that it’s here, I can’t seem to move. My voice is shaky when I answer, at a loss for words.

  “Hello, Ruby,” August says softly.

  I’d almost forgotten how sexy his voice is, and hearing it over the phone makes it so much more intense. I can’t see him, smell him, feel him, or taste him. I can only hear him. He hasn’t even uttered three words, and I’m already done for.

  “I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday,” he says. “I hope you’re having a great day.”

  I am. I am now. I hate myself for giving him the power to control my mood like this. I’m so pathetic. “I am. I went riding with my sister and my nephew. It was a beautiful day.”

  I can almost hear him smile when he says, “I’m glad to hear that. It sounds nice. And you’re right, it was a gorgeous day. I went out in the backyard again this morning.”

  “I’m so happy to hear that! You’re keeping it up.” I’m a bit stunned by my enthusiasm. I care so much, and I’m so happy for him. No, he’s not just my boss. He’s much more than that. He’s my friend.

  “Yes, trying to. Thank you… for everything.”

  “My pleasure,” I say, knowing the conversation will soon be over. I don’t want to say good-bye.

  “Ruby?”

  “Yes?”

  “I…”

  I wait, not saying a single word.

  “I bet you probably have plans for this evening,” he goes on, sounding unsure. “It is your birthday after all.”

  “I don’t,” I say a little too swiftly. Yes, I am a loser.

  “Well, in that case… I was wondering…”

  “Yes?”

  “I was wondering if you’d like to come over. I have something for you.”

  My heart executes an impressive series of cartwheels before I can utter a single word. Finally, after sucking in a long breath, I manage to say, “Yes, I’d love that.”

  “Great.”

  “My sister is making me dinner, and I’m sure they’ll have a cake and a few presents for me, but we usually eat dinner ridiculously early so… yes, I can come later.”

  “Eight o’clock?”

  “Perfect,” I reply, giddy as a dog with a bone. He has a gift for me! I can’t wait to see it. I don
’t think I’ve ever been so excited. Suddenly, I want time to move at record speed and bring me to eight o’clock in a flash.

  “I’ll see you then,” he says before saying good-bye.

  All day I float around the house like a silly drunken fairy. I can barely eat dinner, and I feel bad because Amber’s gone out of her way to make my favourites: gourmet mac and cheese and my favourite salad with avocado, goat cheese, and pecans. Then there’s a black forest cake – store-bought but so very good.

  When my birthday wish comes, I’m not sure what I want. I think about it. I want happiness – that’s all. I want happiness for me and those around me. So that’s what I wish for when I close my eyes and blow out my candles.

  I’m not sure what to wear. My usual go-to suit with a dash of whimsy wouldn’t be appropriate for a Saturday night. But I don’t want to dress up and appear too eager. I decide to stick with my leggings and tunic, but I do let my hair down because August likes it that way. I dab on some red lipstick. “Here goes.”

  Ruby

  When I ring the doorbell, I notice my fingers are shaking a bit. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. On one hand, I excited at the prospect of a gift from August. But on the other hand, I know I’m dreaming when it comes to August. And I know I’m falling deeper. With each encounter, I sink a little more. I sink into him, and it feels amazing. But that’s the problem – he is warm, delicious temptation. It’s just sex for him, but I become more vulnerable with every touch, and I fear that I’ll get caught up in him and never be able to free myself. I should probably not sleep with him, because if I do, it will be too late for me.

  When he opens the door, he’s a vision to behold. I suddenly feel drab in my leggings and winter jacket. He motions me in.

  “Wow, I feel a little underdressed,” I say, taking him in from head to toe.