Ruby woke slowly. It was barely six in the morning and still pitch black outside the small, snow-obscured windows. She was warm. Really warm, and Ford was just waking too, if the sleepy kisses on the back of her neck and the growing erection nestled between her legs were anything to judge by.
“Do you always wake up like this?” she said, reaching a hand behind herself to fondle his cock.
“I’d like to,” he said, his hands full of her breasts as he nuzzled her neck.
Ruby closed her eyes, concentrating on the physical pleasure rather than the emotional pain of wishing his words could come true. He was gloriously hard in her hand, and she twisted around in his arms and pushed him flat on his back. If this was it, she wanted to know everything there was to know about Ford. She wanted to taste him.
She saw the surprise in his eyes slide into appreciation and then lust as she pulled herself up to kneel beside him, her hands still on his erection. The shallow rise and fall of his chest told her how much pleasure she was giving him, and his dark brown nipples beaded hard when she leaned down and flickered her tongue against them. His groan of appreciation urged her on, and she lifted her mouth to his. His kiss seared her, instantly hot and hard, evidence of how much he wanted her hands on him. He pushed the curtain of her hair away from her face with both hands, crushing her open mouth to his as his tongue moved around hers.
Jesus, she loved him like this. A little out of control, a breath away from losing it. She wanted him to lose it altogether.
She lifted her head, then heard him curse under his breath when she lowered it again over his cock. Ruby wasn’t sure if he groaned or she did as her lips slipped over the length of him. He filled her mouth, straining and rigid, the most delicious aphrodisiac she’d ever tasted. Ford’s restless hands roamed her back. Stroked her hair. Dipped between them to roll her nipples. He twisted his torso around, and she didn’t realize his intentions until his head was between her knees on the mattress and he had pulled her sex down onto his face. She gasped around his cock, and his guttural moan reverberated against her clitoris, his morning bristles rough against her thighs as he splayed her with his fingers. He licked her. She sucked him. He sucked her. She licked him. His body told her that he was getting close; his hips jerked, thrusting his cock deeper into her throat as he took her clit in his mouth and loved her with his tongue. It was the most overwhelmingly sexual experience Ruby had ever known, and she couldn’t hold back the orgasm that ripped through her body as he held her down on his face, his hot semen pumping into her throat. She took it all, loving that they’d given each other such mind-blowing pleasure with their hands and their mouths.
They stayed there afterwards, spent, her arms around his thighs, his around her body, their mouths gentle on each other now that the violent need had passed.
“Um, Rubes…” Ford said eventually, stroking the back of her thighs.
“Hmm?” She was utterly content, her lips getting lazily acquainted with his hipbone.
“I hate to say this, but don’t you have a wedding to organize this afternoon?”
Chapter Eight
Standing in reception later that morning, Ruby’s brow creased with worry as she glanced at her watch. The wedding was less than six hours away, and all of her meticulous plans were coming undone.
Emma had been in tears twice already, once because her favorite aunt and uncle couldn’t make it because of the weather, and again because the weatherman was forecasting that even more snow would fall throughout the day. Guests arrived in dribs and drabs throughout the morning, blowing into the hotel like intrepid explorers bundled up in winter coats and boots.
Ruby supplied them all with hot chocolate as they warmed their bones by the reception hearth, soothing Emma’s nerves even though behind her serene smile Ruby was in a complete and utter panic. The minister had made it in; if nothing else, they had a wedding celebrant.
She was down to a skeleton staff because of the weather conditions, and she hadn’t been able to get hold of either the band or the caterers to confirm their bookings.
That was when the lights went out.
The low-level chatter in reception stopped as the lamps winked off, leaving the room lit only by the dull winter daylight and the glow from the fire. There was that slow whir of everything powering down, of the reception computers going dark, and then everyone started talking at once, high-pitched voices tinged with panic.
Ruby looked at the phone in her hand, the line to backup caterers suddenly dead. No matter. They’d only been explaining that they couldn’t help her anyway.
She had to face facts. It was New Year’s Eve, they were snowed in, and now it would seem they had to make do without electricity too.
It was at that precise moment that Ford appeared, took one look at Ruby’s face, and tugged her into the office and closed the door.
“Tell me what I can do to help.”
She dropped into her seat behind the desk, her head in her hands as she groaned.
“I honestly don’t know. We’ve never lost the electricity here before. They’ve been working on the power lines down in the village over the last couple of days; I guess someone must have knocked out a cable.” Ruby hated the sound of fear in her own voice. “I don’t have a clue what to do, Ford.”
He dropped on his haunches next to her chair.
“Yes, you do. You’re the manager, and if I know you, you’re damn good at it.” He rubbed her back as he spoke. “Let’s prioritize. It’s going to go dark pretty soon, and it’s bloody cold. We need heat, and we need light.”
“The wedding, Ford. Emma and Niall’s wedding…”
“The wedding will happen.”
“How? We have no caterers, and no entertainment,” she said, her hands pressed against her cheeks. “And no flowers! And no bloody lights!” Much as she knew that it was futile to panic, she couldn’t keep her voice steady.
“Think, Rubes. Get a pen and paper. We need to make a list.”
Within minutes, they had a list of all of the staff on site, all of the guests they needed to account for, and a prioritized to-do list to make the wedding happen.
She gathered the staff, but just as she was about to set them to task, there was a knock on the office door. Ford slipped out for a moment, and when he reappeared around the door he cleared his throat.
“Rubes, you need to come out here for a sec.”
She frowned, but he just opened the door wide and nodded for her to head back into reception. She was greeted by a small crowd, Emma and Niall’s friends and family, all gathered and ready to pitch in and help.
For a few seconds, Ruby said nothing at all, because she couldn’t speak around the lump in her throat. And then she looked at Ford, and his small nod of encouragement was enough to galvanize her. She needed to rally her now numerous troops into action.
Every fireplace was to be laid and lit. Ruby said a silent thank-you that they had enough candles around the place to illuminate a small cruise ship and sent a group off to gather them up. Then Ford marshaled several of the male staff and guests, and together they took responsibility for building and lighting every fire in the place. All of the bedrooms would be warm, and the numerous fireplaces downstairs would do the trick for the public rooms.
Emma’s grandmothers worked together, taking charge of flowers. The hotel’s winter flower arrangements were pulled apart to make a bouquet for Emma, and what was left was used for buttonholes for the groomsmen.
Ruby dispatched several of the waiters to brave the outdoors to drag up the industrial-size barbecue from the garden store rooms and instructed them to collect all of the summer lanterns and candle jars whilst they were down there. Over the last few summers they’d hosted some amazing summer weddings, the gardens ablaze with fairy lights and hand painted jam jar candles hanging from the branches of the trees. She might not be able to give Emma a balmy summer evening or fairy lights, but she could give her candlelight. Lots and lots of it.
In the k
itchen, Emma’s cousins and friends worked alongside the scant kitchen staff to prepare plates of sandwiches and bowls of salad to accompany the barbecued burgers, and raided cupboards to find cookies and niceties to arrange on plates. It was an undeniably eclectic mix, but utterly charming because of the love taken to put it together. The pre-ordered white three-tiered wedding cake took pride of place in the center of the table. One thing they thankfully weren’t short on was champagne, and Ford filled upturned barrels with snow to keep them chilled outside the back door.
“We still haven’t sorted entertainment,” Ruby fretted. Everything else had proved surmountable, but she couldn’t conjure up a band.
“Do you have a guitar anywhere around here?” Ford asked, rubbing his champagne cold hands together.
She frowned. Did they?
“I think we might have…” she ducked through reception to the dining room, grabbing a torch from the dining table as she passed and shouldering open the door to the old storeroom behind it. It was a this-and-that room. Extra chairs. Boxes of various colored table linens. Ruby shone the light over it all slowly, and then grinned with delight. She’d been right. Lord knew why, but they had an acoustic guitar leaning in one corner.
Ford moved in close behind her, the warmth of his body welcome in the cold room.
“Looks like you’ve got yourself some entertainment,” he said, his hands snaking around her waist as he kissed her neck. “You can pay me later.”
“Are you expensive?” She laughed, catching her breath as his warm hand slid inside her blouse.
“I’ll take payment in kind, if you like,” he said, his voice husky as his fingers stroked her nipple through the lace of her bra.
“Get the guitar, Ford,” she said, knowing that if she didn’t stop him now she was highly likely to let him have her right here on the cold flagstone floor of the store room.
When darkness fell, they were ready for it. Hundreds of candles flickered, every shelf filled, every window illuminated.
Ruby grabbed a few minutes to dash home through the snow and change into the strapless pale gold dress she’d bought for the occasion, adding a flick of mascara and lip gloss as she ran her fingers through her hair. A sex-filled night coupled with the most stressful working day of her career had done little for her dark, wavy hair, but there was no time to do anything other than hope she could carry off the same elegantly shabby look that the hotel aspired to.
At just before five o’clock, Emma and Niall’s hushed guests gathered around the bottom of the sweeping staircase, and as Ford picked out Elvis’s “The Wonder of You” on his guitar, Emma made her way slowly down on the arm of her father.
The bride looked stunning, and as Ruby glanced towards Niall waiting by the fireplace, she saw him dash the back of his hand over his eyes. The minister pulled a hankie from her pocket and handed it to him surreptitiously.
By virtue of it having the biggest fireplace in the building, the reception hall had been transformed into a makeshift wedding chapel, the leather couches moved around the edges to make way for spindle-backed chairs decorated with silver ribbons. The guests took their seats, their faces illuminated by the many creamy candles amassed on the timbre that topped the fireplace and around the window ledges, the pretty jars casting a myriad of mellow colors around the space. It looked spellbinding. Intimate and inviting, the perfect wedding atmosphere. Emma’s smile shone like a beacon as she walked down the aisle between her family and friends, and as she caught Ruby’s eye, it widened even more. That simple smile filled her heart with joy. She’d done it.
Ford’s arm slipped around her waist as they stood together at the back of the room and watched their friends pledge themselves to each other forever. She turned to look at him, and found him watching her intently.
“Thank you,” she said softly. Without him, there was every likelihood that the day would have ended very differently. He’d given her the strength and encouragement she needed without ever taking over and stealing the show, helping her turn what could easily have been a disaster into a triumph.
Ford studied Ruby’s profile as she turned slowly back to watch Emma and Niall’s wedding. He’d woken that morning with her in his arms, and he’d never known peace like it. He’d spent years searching the globe for that feeling, never realizing that home wasn’t really about location at all. He’d been running forever, and it was only as he’d watched Ruby in action today that he’d acknowledged that he’d been running in the wrong direction.
Chapter Nine
Ruby stood in the doorway of reception a while later, her arms wrapped around her body and her head against the doorframe.
She had the strangest feeling, as if she were at the movies watching an unimaginably Christmas-y film reach its soft-focus conclusion. The spindle chairs had been stacked to create a makeshift dance floor in front of the roaring fire, and clusters of guests lounged on the leather sofas. Snatches of conversation drifted around her, the clink of glasses, the convivial sound of laughter and good spirits.
Emma and Niall danced slowly, wrapped around each other and oblivious to the world around them. He held her as if she were the most precious thing in the world, and her head rested contentedly on his shoulder. Every now and then couples drifted around them, drawn to dance by the unmistakable sound of Ford’s sexy, gravel-filled voice as he perched on a stool with his guitar on his knee.
It hurt Ruby’s heart to look at him, to see him there just as she remembered him all of those years ago. Self-taught on a staple diet of The Beatles tracks, he worked his way through their mellow back catalogue now, interspersed with well-loved Christmas songs.
Songs about love, songs about hope, and songs about broken hearts. He looked up and caught her eye, sending her the briefest of winks that said “we’ve done it,” and “way to go.” Ruby wished the evening could go on forever. She wanted to hug the day to her and never let go, to hang onto this feeling of completeness that she hadn’t experienced since she’d been eleven years old.
With just ten minutes left until midnight, the lights flickered back on to a collective cheer. The fairy lights on the Christmas tree winked on, and the amber lamps bathed the room. Relieved of his entertainer duties now that there was music and a New Year’s Eve countdown to go on, Ford wove his way across the busy room to Ruby.
“I think that was possibly the best wedding I’ve ever been to, Rubes,” he said, sliding his arms around her. “You’re good at this stuff.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Yes, you could.” Ford smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You can do anything.”
Ruby cast her eyes down, not wanting Ford to see the tears that gathered there. She wanted to be that girl, but she wasn’t sure that she was. She couldn’t do anything. She couldn’t stop herself from loving Ford this time around, even though he was due to fly out of her life all over again.
“Come upstairs with me?” he murmured against her hair, his hand rubbing slow circles on the small of her back.
Had it really only been twenty-four hours since he’d last said those same words? So much had happened since then, it seemed a lifetime ago.
She took his hand as he led her up the staircase, pausing on each landing to blow out the candles. His room was warm and inviting, and as he closed the door she turned unquestioningly into his arms. He wrapped her close and just held her. Ruby held him back, knowing what was coming.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?”
Ford stroked her jaw, and then lowered his mouth to hers. Tears slid down her cheeks as she surrendered herself to his slow, agonizingly tender kiss, as he sighed into her mouth, as he let his tongue slide over hers. He’d kissed her like this once before years and years ago, and then he’d boarded a plane and left her behind.
“I have something for you,” he said, lifting his head and untangling his arms from hers.
She sat on the edge of the bed as he opened the bedside table and withdrew two things.
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She looked down as he sat next to her, his body angled towards hers.
A flight ticket to Barbados with his name on it.
“Your ticket home,” she said quietly, and he nodded.
Her eyes moved to the second thing he’d taken from the drawer. A small bundle tied together with Christmas ribbon.
“These are yours. You should have had them already.”
Ford held the package out, and she took it with shaky fingers.
The ribbon fell easily away, and all at once Ruby realized what she held in her hands.
Postcards. Postcards from Barcelona and Thailand and California, and any number of other places in between. She looked at the kaleidoscope of images, of cities he had visited and beaches he’d walked on.
When she turned them, each one bore her name, dates spanning the last decade, and the same four words: Wish you were here.
Ruby stared at them for a long time, until her vision was too obscured by tears to be able to read them anymore. She was aware of Ford watching her in silence, waiting as the truth sank in. He hadn’t turned his back on her. He hadn’t forgotten her.
He might have travelled the world, but he’d been just as lonely as she had, because the one person who mattered wasn’t at his side.
“I missed you, Rubes,” he said, taking the cards from her fingers and laying them on the table. “I’ve seen some amazing things and been to some amazing places, but none of them have come close to feeling like home. There’s always been something missing, a reason to move on to the next place in case it’s there. But it’s never there, Rubes.” He covered her fingers with his own. “It’s never there, because it’s been here all along. It’s always been you.” He lifted her hands to press his lips against them, and then put them down and reached for his ticket. She held her breath as she watched him rip it, tear after tear until it rained like confetti from his fingers. “I love you, Ruby, and I’m never catching another plane without you.”
Wanderlust: A Holiday Story (A Heroes and Heartbreakers Original) Page 4