Page 22 of Hold You Close
“You always ruin my alcohol buzz,” I reply.
He shakes his head and keeps moving.
I can hear Ruby crying as soon as we get past my deck. “Did you try talking to her?” I ask.
Ian stops walking suddenly and I plow into the back of him. He turns, grabbing my arm, and pulls me to his chest. The smell of his cologne, the feel of his skin on mine, causes my heart to race. I hate my weak body for being drawn to him, but my drunken mind can’t stop the thoughts of what it felt like to have his lips on mine.
I’ve replayed that kiss a million times already, the way his hands scrunched my shirt in the back, how he was demanding with his tongue, and then there was his taste. Why does he have to be so fucking hot?
“I’m not a fucking idiot. Of course I tried talking to her.”
I shake my head, getting rid of the thoughts of him touching me, and put my armor back in place. “I had to ask.”
“Be more careful where you walk,” he says, and then releases me.
Of course he doesn’t think about me that way. I’m simple, ugly, plain, and a bitch in his world. He doesn’t see me as a woman, he never has.
Traitorous body wanting a man who only cares for himself.
It takes a few more seconds before we’re in the house, and Ruby is beside herself. The tears stream, her cries are loud, and she’s worked herself up pretty good. “Ruby, honey, come here.” I squat down and she comes running to my arms. “There, there.”
I hold her against my body as she cries. The screaming slows, but she’s a mess.
“How the—?” Ian says looking at Ruby in my arms.
“She’s scared,” I explain. This little girl has had her entire world flipped upside down. I have no idea why I’m the only person she’ll come to right now, but that’s not my worry—Ruby is.
Ian sits on the floor beside me, his hand reaching out, tucking the strand of blond hair behind her ear. “I’m here for you, princess. Uncle Ian loves you and just wants you to smile. That’s all.”
Ruby’s little arms tighten. “Milk?” she asks.
“You want some milk?” I repeat.
She nods.
“Can I get you some milk?” Ian tries again.
She glares at him. “Aunt London.”
This poor kid. And since I refuse to move in with Ian to be his daily translator, I have to find a way to make this better. I rub Ruby’s back and think. “Ruby,” I say softly. “If you want Auntie London to get your milk, then I need you to help me, can you do that?”
She smiles.
“I need you to sit on Uncle Ian’s lap,” I explain. Her tiny body goes stiff. “I’m not going anywhere but to the kitchen. You’ll be able to see me the whole time. Okay?”
Ian watches me, and instead of the normal hatred in his eyes, I see appreciation. I know coming to me for help couldn’t have been easy for him. I don’t know that I would’ve gone to him if the tables were turned, but his love for Ruby overshadowed his own desires.
I gently lift Ruby, and her arms start to slide from around my neck as I transfer her into his lap. Ian doesn’t move or say a word, he allows me to control the situation, which is totally unlike him.
Ruby rests her head on Ian’s chest, and I sit there for second. Both of us watching each other. Both of us saying so much in a simple look. Both of us lost.
I catch myself before I let my heart soften too much. Ian is the kind of guy who takes advantage of people’s vulnerability—or at least mine.
I get to my feet and go into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I look around for a carton of milk but don’t see one. “Ian,” I call out. “Where’s the milk?”
“Isn’t there some in there?”
“Not that I can see.”
