Page 57 of From Wink to Kink

As I peer out from behind my leafy hideout, I spot another familiar face heading my way. It's that couple from our first night here—Ken and Barbie, as I dubbed them.

"Chuck!" Ken calls out, waving enthusiastically. "There you are, buddy! We've been looking all over for you!"

Oh God. Not them too.

"Listen," Barbie says, her voice low and sultry, "Ken and I were talking, and we thought maybe you and Ruby might want to... join us for some fun later?"

I blink, momentarily stunned into silence. "Join you? For... oh. Right. Look, I'm flattered, but?—”

"No pressure," Ken says with a wink that suggests there's absolutely pressure. "Just think about it, okay?"

They saunter off, leaving me feeling… strange. There was a time when I’d be all over an invitation like that.

Right now?

Not so much.

I start moving again, no real destination in mind beyond 'away from here.' As I round a corner, I hear a commotion behind me.

"I think I saw him go this way!"

"Hurry, before someone else snags him!"

Panic rising, I spot a door marked 'Workshop in Progress.' Without thinking, I yank it open and dive inside, slamming it shut behind me.

I lean against the door, breathing heavily, only to realize I've interrupted some kind of class. A dozen pairs of eyes are staring at me in surprise.

"Um, hi," I say weakly, waving at the group. "Sorry I'm late. Traffic was terrible."

The instructor, a serene-looking woman, smiles at me. "Welcome, beautiful soul. You're just in time for our workshop on 'Embracing Your Inner Child Through Finger Painting.'"

Did she just say…finger painting?

I look around the room, taking in the easels, the pots of bright paint, the paper smocks. This is... not what I expected. But you know what? It's not a hot tub full of horny housewives or a couples’ swap meet.

I'll take it.

"Great," I say, grabbing a smock. "I love finger painting. Can't get enough of it. Where do I sit?"

As I settle in front of an easel, trying to remember the last time I did anything remotely artistic, I continue to wonder where Ruby has gotten to. Is she okay? Is she looking for me? Or did she come to her senses and realize she's way too good for a meathead like me?

The instructor starts talking about 'expressing our deepest emotions through color,' but I'm only half-listening. My mind is on Ruby—her laugh, her smile, the way she rolls her eyes at my bad jokes but can't quite hide her amusement.

I dip my fingers in the paint, a vibrant red that reminds me of her, and start to create... something. I'm not sure what. But as I smear color across the paper, I make a decision.

As soon as this class is over, I'm going to find Ruby, and tell her how I feel – really feel, beyond the joking and the flirting. Because sometime between our awkward first meeting and now, I've fallen for her. Hard.

And if that means fighting off a horde of overzealous retreat-goers or embarrassing myself with terrible finger paintings, so be it.

28

CHUCK

As I leave the workshop,my hands stained with red and my mind set on finding Ruby, I feel a mix of determination and nervousness. I've never been great at expressing my feelings, but Ruby deserves to know how I feel about her.

I search, checking all the places I can think of – the dining room, the yoga pavilion, even a tucked-away little library I’d never noticed before. No Ruby. I'm about to give up when I spot a secluded area near the pool, hidden away behind some lush tropical plants and ornate fountains.

And there she is, sitting on a lounge chair, looking absolutely stunning in a simple dress. The sunlight filtering through the leaves dances across her red hair, making it look like a living flame. For a moment, I just stand there, taking in the sight of her.

---