Page 65 of Bet On Me, Daddy

Even more raw when he stepped into his silent, empty home. Pain lanced at his chest, and for the first time in years he found himself missing the sound of someone else in his space. The peace he’d once made with his solitude had been stripped from him by a pretty girl with too-expressive eyes.

Fuck.

Tomorrow. He’d call Ruby tomorrow, apologize for being an asshole, and maybe they could go back to being friends who sometimes flirted across the bar.

Because he was self-aware enough to realize that he’d fucked up because he’d let himself get in too deep with her. Attraction had turned to infatuation and was quickly heading toward something much deeper.

And far more dangerous.

Definitely better for both of them that they’d realized so early on they weren’t a good fit. At least, that was what he tried to tell himself as he poured a second glass of whiskey and sat brooding in front of his empty fireplace. But no matter how much helectured himself that she obviously wasn’trightfor him, he couldn’t seem to shake the itch between his shoulder blades that was telling him to get back in his car and go make things right.

He was contemplating a third drink when his phone—which he’d been holding in his hand for reasons that had nothing to do with wondering if Ruby would call—alerted him to someone on the front steps.

Ruby.

His heart, the traitor that it was, literally leapt as he watched her shift from foot to foot on the screen. At one point, she reached for the doorbell, only to snatch her hand away at the last second and pace to the edge of the steps and back.

“Just fucking do it,” she mumbled, giving herself a fully body shake.

God, she was adorable, standing there all disgruntled, glaring at his doorbell like it had personally offended her mother. He was tempted to pull the same trick he had earlier and give her a little scare from his phone. But he’d already been enough of an asshole for one night.

Probably.

Deciding to put her out of her misery, he set his glass aside and rose from his chair to make his way to the front door. He opened it just as Ruby reached for the doorbell again. “Something I can help you with, Ruby Red?”

He had to swallow a laugh as she jumped back, slapping a hand over her heart and glaring at him. “What the fuck, dude? Are you psychic or something?”

Without answering, he simply held up his phone, which clearly showed the two of them on the video. “Or something.”

“Right. That stupid doorbell.” Huffing out an annoyed breath, she tugged her jacket tighter around her. “Can we talk?”

Stepping to the side, he gestured for her to come in. She swept past him with her head held high, as regal as any lady ofthe court, and he had to fight back another chuckle as he closed the door behind her.

Was it any wonder he’d been falling for her? He’d always been a sucker for a woman with some fire in her, and his Ruby had plenty to spare.

Not yours, remember?

Right.

Fuck.

He turned to find her standing in his entryway, her arms still crossed and her chin tilted up with that hint of defiance he so enjoyed stripping from her.

“I owe you an apology,” he said without giving her a chance to rip into him.

Ruby blinked, and he had the satisfaction of watching the defiance fade for just a moment before she seemed to remember herself. “Yes. Yes, you do. You were out of line.”

“I was. We negotiated very clear lines for our relationship, and I crossed those lines. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” Looking adorably uncertain, she did that little dance again, shifting from one foot to another. “I’m not going to apologize.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

If he’d expected that to mollify her, he’d clearly miscalculated. Throwing her hands in the air, she paced away from him, then back, her agitation showing in every jerky movement. “Then why did you jump my ass like that back at the club if you know I didn’t do anything wrong?”

How much to tell her? He wasn’t quite ready to rip open those old wounds, and he wasn’t sure he ever would be.

But he owed her some kind of explanation. “We all have our hot buttons. Some are hotter than others. One of mine is seeing people I care about working themselves to death.”

---