Page 34 of From Wink to Kink

"A chicken," she repeats. "A live one. Stuffed in a bag."

I bite my lip, trying not to laugh. "Well, that's... thoughtful? I guess she thought you looked like you could use a fresh chicken."

"Right? And, it gets better. An old man proposed marriage to me."

That does it. I burst out laughing, attracting the attention of everyone around us. "Hewhat?"

"Proposed," Ruby says, her own lips twitching. "Yup. Go to Costa Rica for vacation, return married.'"

I'm laughing so hard now I'm actually wheezing. "Oh my god, Brooks. Please tell me you said yes. I can just see you now, living out your days as a chicken-owning trophy wife on some Costa Rican farm."

She tries to maintain a serious expression, but cracks, dissolving into giggles. "Shut up," she manages, gasping for air. "It's not funny."

"It's hilarious," I counter, wiping tears from my eyes.

And just like that, the last of the tension between us dissolves. We're drawing curious looks from nearby tables, and I’m loving it. In this moment, I'm not Chuck Newcomb, hockey star, and she's not Ruby Brooks, my teammate's unapproachable sister. We're just two people, sharing a ridiculous story and helping each other through an awkward situation.

It's... nice.

Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are bright. She's let her guard down, and I'm struck by how charming she is when she's not actively trying to dislike me.

"What?" she asks, catching me staring.

I shake my head. "Nothing. Just... this is nice. You're actually pretty fun when you're not trying to murder me with your eyes. "

"Don't get used to it, Newcomb. I still haven't forgiven you for getting us into this mess."

"Fair enough," I concede. "But admit it, you're having a better time than you thought you would."

She sighs dramatically. "Fine. It hasn't been completely terrible. But if you tell anyone I said that, I'll deny it to my dying breath."

I mime locking my lips and throwing away the key. "Your secret's safe with me, Brooks."

As we stand to leave, I notice something odd. The other diners are dressed... well, let's just say 'provocatively' would be an understatement. Women in outfits that leave little to the imagination, men with shirts unbuttoned to their navels, everyone looking like they're on the prowl.

Ruby notices too, her eyes widening. "Uh, Chuck? Is it just me, or did we miss the memo about dinner attire?"

I shake my head, equally baffled. "I think… we missed the memo.”

As if in answer, we spot a sign near the exit advertising tomorrow's seminar, ‘Embracing Sensuality in Everyday Life.’ The description goes on, mentioning an emphasis on ‘self-exploration.’

Ruby and I exchange a look.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" I ask, trying not to laugh.

She nods, a mix of horror and amusement on her face.

I can't help it. I burst out laughing again, and after a moment, Ruby joins. The absurdity of our situation hits me all over again. Here we are, at a couples' retreat that's apparently moreFifty Shades of GreythanEat, Pray, Love, pretending to be a couple when we barely know each other.

As we make our way back to our bungalow, still chuckling, a voice stops us in our tracks.

"Well, hello there, handsome."

I turn to see a woman sauntering toward us. She's dolled up in that obvious, trying-too-hard kind of way, all pouty lips, come-hither eyes, and an abundance of some horrible perfume. Her dress is so tight it looks painted on, and she moves with an exaggerated sway of her hips.

"Uh, hi," I manage, feeling suddenly uncomfortable.

The woman ignores Ruby completely, focusing all her attention on me. She runs a hand down my arm, her touch lingering. "I'm Jazz. Short for Jasmine. And you are...?"

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