Page 42 of Stroked Long
“I have to admit, that smells delicious,” Ruby says, interrupting my silent thoughts. When I turn to thank her, I’m caught off guard by the gorgeous woman drowning in my clothes. The shirt she’s wearing is entirely too large, the sleeves pass her elbows, and the sweats I gave her are rolled numerous times at the waist and the ankles.
A foreign chuckle rips through me and I cover my mouth, not wanting to insult her.
Looking down at her clothes, she curtseys, pulling the shirt out like a dress and says, “What? Do these clothes you lent me not fit? How strange, I would have thought a man of your six-foot-two stature would have clothes that would easily fit me.”
“Sorry, my intention is not to be mean, but those clothes don’t fit.”
“But I make them work, right?” she encourages me.
“Yes,” I smile, “you make it work.”
“Eep! A compliment, giggle, and smile from Bodi Banks. The world is flipping on its axis.”
Scrunching my brow together I respond, “I did not giggle. Men don’t giggle.”
“Pretty sure I heard a giggle.” She places her finger on her chin and looks to the ceiling in contemplation. “Or would you refer to that as a chortle?”
“Definitely not a chortle.” I laugh again, getting used to the sound coming from me.
“One day I will get a chortle out of you.” Leaning over my frame, on her toes, she eyes the pizza, her hand pressing against my back. I hide the quick intake of breath that shoots through me from the touch of her palm. “Wow that’s a lot of vegetables.”
“Is that okay? It’s how my mom used to make it.” I say the words before I can stop them from coming out. Fuck, I don’t want to talk about my mom with Ruby, not tonight, not fucking ever.
The usual Prying-Ruby retreats to my side and wafts the smell up to her face, ignoring my statement completely. She then turns to me and says, “Looks perfect. Can I get us drinks or anything?”
And that right there, that’s why she’s digging her little heart-shaped face under my skin. She can read me like a book, even when I’m uncomfortable and want to sidestep something that comes out of my mouth.
“I can grab them. You go sit down. We can work and eat if that’s okay with you.”
“Fine with me.” She smiles and goes to the dining room, giving me some time to collect my thoughts.
Nervous and anxious, I run my hand over my face, hoping to gain a little courage to get through this night.
She doesn’t want to know the true you. She would be disgusted. Keep it together, Banks.
With an exhale, I cut up the pizza and bring it out on the trivet followed by two root beers. I set the brown bottle in front of her, which makes that bright smile shine back up at me.
“I’m not going to lie, you’re making me swoon a little here, Bodi. Pizza and bottled root beer. You’re the hostess with the mostest.”
Swoon? If only she fucking knew the thoughts and foreign feelings running through me every time her big brown eyes focus on me, as if I’m the only man on this planet. Want to talk about taking my breath away? She’s fucking gold-medaling in that department.
“Just wait until dessert.” I wink while handing out the pizza.
Wink? I fucking winked? Who the hell is this winking person? Whoever he is, he’s charming the fuck out of Ruby, who can’t seem to stop smiling.
Shit, she’s so damn beautiful.
Her lips are full, plump, glossy. Her eyes speak her truth in bold brown waves and the slight crinkle of her nose when she’s unsure of something is so fucking adorable all I want to do is kiss it.
I want to kiss her.
Fucking badly.
I want to know what it feels like to be intimately entwined with someone so pure and true as her. I want to feel her warmth against my frigidness, get lost in the soft, silky feel of her skin and hold her as if she’s mine for the keeping.
Lifting a slice of the pizza, she pushes it toward me and waits. Confused, I ask, “Everything okay?”
“We need to cheers.”
