Page 20 of A Tempting Seduction (Protectors of Jasper Creek #5)

Chapter Eleven

I woke up to sunlight streaming through my bedroom curtains. I felt great. I couldn’t remember the last time I slept so good. I stretched my arms up.

What the hell? Why was I sleeping in my dress? Memories swept through my mind.

I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

I did.

I slammed my face into my pillow and screamed.

How in the hell had I fallen asleep when the sexiest man in the world had just given me an orgasm? How could I be so lame?

How could I have let Ford carry me, for Christ’s sake? Did I want to give the poor guy a hernia?

Slow your roll, Ruby, he carried you like you were light as a feather.

How could I have told Ford about freaking Carla and what she said? And Lance! I told him about Lance.

I moaned into my pillow.

I was never going to leave my house again.

And he saw my panties. The ones I bought in the three-for-ten-dollars package from Target.

Oh joy.

Screw never leaving my house, I’m never leaving my bedroom again .

Only, I had to pee.

Dammit, nothing was going my way.

As soon as I took care of business in the bathroom, I decided a shower was in order. A long, long shower.

It didn’t help.

I needed someone to talk me out of my freak-out. Someone who would tell me I hadn't completely ruined everything with my mortifying display of neediness.

I scrolled through my contacts and hit Maddie's number.

“Hi, you've reached Maddie. Leave a message and I'll get back to you.”

Damn.

Maddie would have been perfect. Social workers knew how to handle emotional meltdowns without making you feel like a complete disaster.

I tried Fallon next.

“You've reached Fallon Vickers. I can't come to the phone right now, but please leave a message.”

Double damn.

Fallon would have been sweet and understanding too. She'd have reassured me that everything was fine and maybe shared some embarrassing story about her early dates with Michael to make me feel better.

I stared at my phone, scrolling through my contacts. Chloe would be sympathetic, but I couldn't call her. Not after last night's conversation about being brave like Seris. I'd been the opposite of brave. I'd been a soggy mess who'd fallen apart at the first sign of genuine intimacy.

That left Zoe.

I hesitated, my thumb hovering over her name. Zoe Avery was smart and funny and fiercely loyal, but she was also brutally honest and had zero patience for self-pity. She'd probably laugh at my mortification and tell me to get over myself.

But she was my last lifeline. If she wasn’t available, I’d have to call Miss Gladiola or Little Grandma. Then my life would be absolutely, for-sure, in the toilet.

I hit the call button before I could lose my nerve.

“Ruby?” Zoe's voice came through the phone bright and alert despite it being barely ten in the morning.

“Hey,” I answered.

“What's wrong? You sound awful.”

“I need someone to talk to,” I said, my voice smaller than I intended. “Do you have time to talk?”

“Where are you?”

“Uhm,”

“You’re at your place, aren’t you? I’ll be right there.”

Oh shit. She’d actually see me while we were talking.

Eighteen minutes later, I heard the distinctive rumble of Zoe's motorcycle pulling into my driveway. She knocked on my door wearing black jeans, motorcycle boots and her leathers, holding her helmet.

“Okay,” she said, pushing past me into the living room. “Spill everything. And don't even think about leaving out the good parts.” She went to my fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, leaving her helmet on my spotless kitchen island. The kitchen that Ford had cleaned last night.

I shook my head. He was too good for me.

“Don’t shake your head at me, you’re going to tell me everything.” She grabbed my hand and drew me to my couch, and we both sat down. “Now talk.”

“Ford came over for dinner last night,” I began.

“And?” Zoe settled back into the cushions, clearly prepared for a long story.

“And I made a complete fool of myself.”

Zoe rolled her eyes. “Specifics, Miller. What happened?”

The whole story came tumbling out. The dinner, the tres leches cake, Ford asking about my past. The way I'd broken down and told him about Lance and Carla. The way he'd carried me to the bedroom and I'd fallen asleep like some kind of exhausted child.

When I finished, Zoe was quiet for a long moment. Then she burst into laughter.

“Cotton panties?” she gasped between giggles. “You're worried about cotton panties?”

Heat flooded my cheeks again. “It's not funny.”

“It's hilarious.” Zoe wiped tears from her eyes. “Ruby, the man carried you to bed and tucked you in like you were precious cargo. Do you honestly think he cares what kind of underwear you were wearing?”

“But they were so plain,” I wailed. “So practical and boring and?—”

“So what?” Zoe interrupted. “Ford Larson isn't dating your underwear. He's dating you.”

I slumped against the couch cushions. “I told him about Carla and Lance.”

Zoe's expression shifted, “About that. Why is this the first time I’m hearing about this bitch and motherfucker?” She’d said the sentence like reciting a grocery list.

“What?”

“I mean, we all know you’ve kept some secrets, but this level of hurt and betrayal? From a sister? You should have known you could tell us. Especially since we’ve told you that our mother tried to kill our sister. We understand the brutality of blood.”

That stopped me in my tracks. She was right. If anyone could have understood that part of my past, it was the Avery girls.

“I’m so sorry?—”

She waved her hand. “I’m not looking for an apology. Not at all. I just want you to know, my sisters and I have your back. But that’s not everything, is it?”

My stomach dropped. “What do you mean?”

“I mean there's more to this story. A lot more.” Zoe crossed her arms. “You don't just pack up and move across the country because your fiancé cheated on you. Especially not to a tiny town in Tennessee where you don't know a soul.”

I fidgeted with the hem of my sweater. “I wanted a fresh start.”

“Bullshit.” Zoe's voice carried the authority of someone who'd grown up with five siblings and could spot a lie on a gnat’s ass. “What really happened, Ruby? What are you running from?”

My chest tightened with familiar panic. “I'm not running from anything.”

“Try again.”

“Zoe—”

“Try. Again.”

“Can’t you please leave it at that. At least for now?”

She sighed. “For now. But don’t think I’m going to let you get away with this for long. Not because I’m a busybody, but because I’m worried. You’re in trouble, and you’re going to need us to circle the wagons. When you do, it’ll be easier if we know the whole story.”

After the way my father was killed, I’d leave before I let people hurt anyone here in Jasper Creek.

“Did you hear me?” Zoe asked.

“Yes.” I nodded.

“Okay, time to change the subject,” Zoe said, her voice brightening, “you mentioned talking to Chloe last night.”

Grateful for the subject change, I nodded. “She helped me work through my pre-date nerves.”

“You mean you're getting my sister to come out of her shell?” Zoe's eyes lit up with something between hope and amazement. “That's wonderful, Ruby. She's been so isolated since—” She stopped, her expression growing pained.

“Since her second miscarriage,” I finished gently.

Zoe nodded. “She hardly talks to any of us. She definitely won’t let any of us help. But if she's talking to you...”

“I've been to her apartment a few times. Brought her coffee. Hell, I even made her dinner one night. We talk about her manga mostly.”

“Her work is incredible,” Zoe said softly. “I worry that she hasn’t produced anything for so long.”

“But she has. What she’s working on now is incredible.”

“She is?”

I could hear the relief in Zoe’s voice. “She's stronger than you think,” I said, remembering Chloe's words about courage and moving forward despite fear. “She's just figuring out how to use that strength.”

Zoe's smile was the first genuinely happy expression I'd seen from her all morning. “Thank you. For being there for her when we couldn't.”

“She's been there for me too.”

We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, both lost in our own thoughts. Then Zoe's grin turned wicked.

“So,” she said, pulling out her phone. “Let's fix your underwear situation.”

“My what?”

“Cotton panties, Ruby. We're upgrading you to something that'll make Ford's eyes cross.”

Heat flooded my cheeks. “Zoe, I don't think?—”

“I can think plenty for both of us.” Her fingers were already flying across her phone screen. “Look at these.”

She held up her phone, showing me a website full of lace and satin and colors I'd never considered wearing against my skin.

“Those are gorgeous,” I admitted, studying a set in deep emerald green. “But they're so expensive.”

“Consider it an investment in your happiness.” Zoe added several items to the cart with ruthless efficiency. “Trust me, good underwear is like good coffee. Once you've had the real thing, you can never go back.”

“I can't let you buy me underwear.”

“Who said anything about me buying it?” Zoe handed me the phone. “You're buying it. I'm just providing expert consultation.”

An hour later, I'd somehow purchased more lingerie than I'd owned in my entire adult life. Zoe had insisted on everything from practical-but-pretty everyday sets to pieces that made me blush just looking at them.

“Ford's going to die,” Zoe said with satisfaction as she reviewed our shopping cart one final time. “In the best possible way.”

“What if he doesn't call?” The fear I'd been pushing down all morning finally surfaced. “What if last night was too much too fast? What if I turned him off?”

Zoe gave me a look that could have melted steel. “Ruby Miller, that man cleaned your kitchen and tucked you into bed after you had an emotional breakdown in his arms. He's not going anywhere.”

“How can you be so sure?”