Page 80 of If This is Love

Horrifying as my sudden words were to me, Ruth just seemed tickled about them. “As in, as your date,” she prompted me with that coy smile again.

“Yeah,” I mumbled, my face half-buried in the cushion while I tried to make the suggestion sound as casual as possible. “I think we should go on a date, and that would be an easy place to go on one since we’re already planning to go.”

She smiled even wider. “Well, then it’s all just too perfectnotto go as your date, so yes. I would love to go to the engagement party with you.”

Something inside mesquealed. Really.

“Thanks, Ruth.”

She rubbed my hair again before she kissed my cheek, her movements like she was about to pull away from me, so I impulsively held her wrist to stop her. I had no intentions for what I would do after wrapping my hand around her wrist and kind of just wanted to see what she’d do. And she didn’t disappoint. At all.

Her hand settled softly on my cheek, and she leaned down, leaned in, and pressed a lingering kiss right on my lips. It was a little awkward because of the way I was lying down, but it was perfect and sweet, and now I’d gotten to feel her incredible lips on minetwice.

Fuckingscore.

It didn’t last nearly long enough either, but after she released my lips, she dipped her face to stroke the tip of her nose up the side of mine. “I’m looking forward to our date, Gabe.”

My easy smile tingled with giddiness, but all of this was so much already that I was spent for anything else right now, so I just responded, “Yep.”

She finally stood up and stepped back, giving Gunner a firm rub. “Let me know how you’re doing later, friend.”

I lifted my hand in a wave. “Will do.”

She slipped out, and I waited a good 60 seconds after I heard her pull out of the driveway before I leaped off the couch and hobbled to the shower.

And it was, to say the least,explosive.

21

RUTH

ALGIERS POINT, NEW ORLEANS

Icouldn’t stop smiling all day. It had been alongtime since I’d gone on a date. I’d never even gone on a date with someone other than Michael, and now I was going on one with the only person other thanhim that I’d ever really wanted to go on a date with.

But even though I couldn’t stop smiling, my stomach was twisting with nerves about the dress I’d bought.

It wasn’t a Mardi Gras themed party, but the suggested dress code was to incorporate purple, green, or gold into your outfit somehow as a nod to Carnival, and I’d found a classy butslinkygold dress. It had thin straps and a cowl neckline, the hem hitting about two inches above my knee, and it was made of a shiny, satin-like fabric that draped over the lines of my body sensually without showing too much skin. It was such a fun dress and, objectively, it really was a classy dress.

But old conditioning died hard, and something in me was telling me this was absolutely the wrong dress to wear,especiallybecause this party wound up being my first date with Gabe. Where I came from, people would take one look at this dress on my body and assume I was exactly what Abraham and the elders always insisted I was.

But never mind all that. I loved this dress, and none of those people were around here, and the idea that adresswould make them so mad just made me want to wear it that much more.

They’d always told me I had a “spirit of rebellion” and I guessed they were probably right.

It also lookedgoodon me.

Staring at myself in the mirror, I clasped my hands around my waist and angled my body to one side to exaggerate the curve of my hips, and Ilovedthis dress. It made me feel like a grown woman who had every right to go on a date with a man I cared for and was attracted to, and whoalsohad every right to do whatever I felt like on said date.

There was a knock at the front door, and I nearly jumped out of my skin from excited nerves. “Coming!” I scooped my shoes up with both arms, clutching them securely against my chest and then reaching to grab a white shawl and my clutch purse, and I scampered out of my room.

I dumped everything on the sofa and leaped to the door to pull it open. “Hi there, friend!”

Gabe was softly smiling, just a hint of flush peeking behind the dense scruff on his cheeks. “Hey, Ruth.” His eyes did a quick flit up and down my body, and then his smile suddenly retreated just as his eyes flashed with something a little more intense, and he lifted a small bundle of perfect pale purple and pale pink roses, dropping his gaze to his feet. “I had them stick these in a vase for you. Thought that might make it easier.”

“Aw, Gaa-aabe.” I took the small, rounded vase from him. “These are just about the prettiest roses I’ve ever even seen. And yes, the vase makes it a lot easier because these couldn’t just sit in a water glass all evening.” I sniffed the sweet, floral scent while I carried them to the mantle and set them right in the center. “Thank you for being so thoughtful.”

“Yep.” He lingered on the edge of the doorway, hands in the pockets of his well-fitting black suit, and he looked so handsome I could’ve just eaten him up. Gunner was sitting there on the front porch next to him, and Gabe reached down to scrub his ear, still not looking at me. “You um… look really great.”

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