Make Me Yours(7)

I pulled away from everybody, burying myself in work, until a year ago. My daughter was walking, talking, needing a father, and I realized I had to make a change.

Polishing off my whiskey, I think about the past year. The haze of grief had slowly lifted, and I saw my home life was a mess.

My mother-in-law drives me crazy, and I need to regain control of the situation.

I’ve considered returning to Seattle, but as much as I want to strangle her sometimes, I know being that far from Lillie would kill Eleanor.

The old jukebox starts playing “Fly Me to the Moon,” and the bar erupts into drunk males singing loudly. I signal to the bartender to bring me another drink.

Getting drunk is not a responsible solution to any problem.

Which is why I’ll worry about this one tomorrow.

I push my hair off my forehead and look around the room. If I’d known it was going to be all guys…

My throat goes dry when I see her.

She’s standing at the bar looking at me, and it’s like everything stops.

Dark hair flows around her shoulders in silky waves, her eyes flash, and her body… Jesus. Soft shoulders, perfect tits, narrow waist, shapely legs… Our eyes meet again, and heat filters through my pelvis.

I smile. She blinks and gives me a shy smile in return. When she turns away, I fish out my wallet to settle my tab. I want to go over and say hi. Maybe offer to buy her a drink.

I’m just putting my wallet in my pocket when a sassy voice catches my attention. “Hey, sailor, new in town?”

She’s standing right in front of me, and I lower slowly to sit on the barstool. She’s even prettier up close. Her eyes are so deep, and when she smiles, she has a little dimple right below the corner of her mouth. I want to kiss it. Then I want to make my way lower, biting her chin, tracing my tongue down her neck to those perfect little tits.

Jesus. I don’t know if it’s the whiskey or the testosterone in the air, but I’m feeling thirsty for the first time in years.

A year ago, when my therapist released me from grief counseling, she said I should try dating again. She said I should be open to moving forward with my life. She said I was ready. I disagreed with her… I didn’t think I could feel this way about another person ever again. Now, all I feel is it’s been so long.

Clearing my throat, I grab the reins. “Sorry. I’ve lived here about four years.”

Her slim brow furrows, and her voice changes. “Four years? You’re kidding me. What’s your name?”

“Remi… Remington Key. I live in Eagleside Manor.” As the words come out, I wince a little. I don’t want her to think I’m bragging about living in Oakville’s only gated community.

“Oh, really?” her eyebrows rise, and she turns as if to leave.

I can’t help a laugh. “What is this? Reverse discrimination?” Carefully, I reach out to touch her arm. Despite my internal conflict, I don’t want her to go.

She stops and faces me again, narrowing her eyes. “What are you doing in the Red Cat, Remington Key? Slumming?”

“What are you doing in the Red Cat… I don’t know your name.” Although, I swear she looks familiar.

“Ruby Banks.” She holds out a slim, ivory hand with perfectly manicured nails.

Gently, I take it in mine, covering it with both of mine. She studies our connection, and her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink.

How can I not know everyone living in Oakville? It’s a testament to how little I get out these days, I guess. If it weren’t for Eleanor’s nagging, I wouldn’t even bother with church.

“Nice to meet you, Ruby Banks.” Right as I say the words, it clicks. “We have met before.”

Her shoulder rises, and she slips her hand out of mine. “I don’t think so.”

“We did. I remember it now. It was after church one morning.” I look toward the bar, and I recognize her blonde friend, a.k.a., my former therapist. “You were with Drew… Isn’t that Andrea Harris?”

She does a funny little fast-laugh. “That wasn’t me.”

“But… it was.” I study her face. She won’t meet my eyes, so I try to lighten my tone. Maybe I’m being too forceful? “I was the guy with the squirmy four-year-old.”

Another wince. I know admitting I’m a single dad probably kills any chance of getting a date with her.

Wait… Is that what I want?

It doesn’t matter.

Loud commotion breaks out on the other side of the bar, interrupting our conversation.

It’s hard to see what’s happening as the bodies crush together. The guys form a tight circle, and voices are raised. It sounds like a fight is breaking out. I hear the crash of what sounds like a body being shoved against the opposite wall.

An unexpected surge of protectiveness grips me. Standing, I put my arm between Ruby and the chaos. “We should leave before it gets dangerous in here. Do you need a ride?”

Her head whips back and forth. “No, I have my car… I’ve got to find Drew.” She pushes past my arm.

“Wait… Ruby!” I do my best not to panic as I watch her disappear in a mass of oversized guys shoving back and forth.

I try to follow her without starting a fight of my own. Interesting how guys are so quick to let girls pass in a crowd. Not so much for other guys.