“Um . . .” She swallows. “Yeah. But, uh . . . do think being freaked out by the thought of sleeping in the woods is hereditary, possibly? I’m suddenly starting to think my parents might have a point about not closing your eyes for too long in a creepy cabin in the woods.”
I smile what I hope is a comforting smile. “Once we make the bed and get our lanterns set up in there, you’ll be fine. We can even start a fire later. It’ll be cool enough once the sun sets.”
She nods, but she still doesn’t look convinced, though she murmurs, “You’re probably right.”
Inside the cabin, I sort of see her point. The thin layer of dust covering the table in the corner and the two bunk beds on either side of the cabin feel . . . dingier than usual. And the thought of Ruby being forced to tromp over to the outhouse fifty feet away in the middle of the night gives me serious pause. What was perfectly serviceable for roughing it with the guys seems shabby for sharing with my woman.
Not your woman. Get it together, asshole.
I’m so busy reminding myself about the friends-with-bennies boundaries that I forget to warn Ruby that we’ll need to do a dust-and-bug sweep before we make the beds.
By the time I remember, she’s already leaning into a bottom bunk, disturbing a bunch of cicadas which were hanging out in the slats above her head.
Wings rasp and rattle and Ruby screams like she’s being attacked by an ax-murderer from the Black Lagoon.
Then she’s running in frantic circles around the cabin, batting bugs the size of the baby potatoes we had for dinner from her hair while I scoop the equally frantic critters off the floor and toss them outside.
And I know it’s time for Plan B.
As soon as Ruby’s calmed down enough to let me pull her in for a hug, I stroke her bug-free hair and ask, “Luxury hotel? Twenty-minute drive? I checked this morning and they have plenty of rooms available tonight.”
She tips her head back, looking up at me with something so close to love that it makes my heart stutter and my throat squeeze tight. “You are the best man. The very, very best.” She bites her lip. “Rachel’s feelings won’t be hurt?”
I shake my head. “No. She isn’t like that. And . . . I might have warned her that it was your first time camping. That we might have to ease into the overnight thing.”
Ruby smiles, a grin that hits me in my stuttering heart all over again. “Yep. You’re the best. It’s settled now. I will buy you a fancy dessert at our fancy hotel to celebrate.”
“Sounds perfect.”
But it doesn’t. And I’m not the best.
As we pack up, bid Rachel goodbye, and head out onto the road in the sunset light, I realize I can’t do this anymore.
I can’t lie to her, even a lie of omission.
I have to come clean with Ruby.
Tonight.
23
Ruby
As we reach the ferry parking lot, the sun slips behind the blue-shadowed mountains, painting the sky in shades of peach and lavender.
I draw a deep, wonder-struck breath. I want to memorize that color. Paint with it, slide it across the top of a fresh sheet of hot-press watercolor paper.
It will always remind me of this perfect, magical day.
With the world bathed in light so gorgeous it makes my soul ache, we board the b
oat that’ll whisk us to our swanky hotel on an island in the middle of the lake.
“Wow,” I sigh. “It’s so beautiful. Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” Jesse rumbles, his arm around my waist.
I lean against the boat railing beside him, relishing the breeze on my face and the sweet, mineral scent of the water.