Page 2 of Velvet Corruption

She took it, her grip firm. Her palm was calloused, a fighter’s hand. Of course she was. “Ruby.”

Our hands lingered for a moment too long, and I felt a spark of excitement course through me. It had been a while since I’d felt this kind of instant connection with someone.

“So, Ruby,” I said, lowering my voice. “What brings you to the gym at this ungodly hour?”

“Fewer creeps,” she said.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she said it, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well, seems like that plan backfired,” I teased.

Ruby shrugged. “Jury’s still out on that one.”

We fell into an easy rhythm, chatting between sets. I learned she worked as a legal assistant for the DA’s office, which explained her sharp wit. Funny. Easy to talk to.

Nice on the eyes.

As the minutes ticked by, I found myself watching her more than my reps. The way her nose crinkled when she laughed, the deliberate way she wiped down her bench—it was annoying how easily she held my attention.

When she stood to grab her things, I felt the itch to keep her here. Dumb idea, probably. Still… “Hey, want to grab a coffee? There’s a great place around the corner.”

Ruby hesitated, glancing at her watch. “I have to go in to work. I should really get home and shower…”

“Come on, live dangerously,” I teased. “I promise I don’t bite. Unless you’re into that.”

She rolled her eyes, but I caught the hint of a smile. A crack in the armor. “Fine. One coffee. But if you turn out to be a serial killer, I’m blaming my poor judgment on post-workout endorphins.”

“You could sue the gym for that.”

“Can’t sue them after I’m dead.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” I said.

She laughed, throwing her head back. “My boss would love you.”

“DA Lenta? Yeah, don’t worry. He already loves me.”

She stopped putting her jacket on, eyeing me suspiciously. “Now what does that mean?”

“I’ll tell you all about it over coffee.”

We walked to the coffee shop, dodging commuters and folks doing the walk of shame. Ruby’s arm brushed against mine as we navigated the crowded sidewalk, and I felt a jolt of desire at each touch. The coffee shop was bustling, filled with the aroma of freshly ground beans and the hum of sleepy conversations.

“So,” Ruby said as we settled into a corner booth, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug. “How exactly does the DA love you?”

I took a sip of my Americano. “Ruby,” I said. “How long have you been in Boston?”

Ruby narrowed her eyes, studying me over the rim of her mug. “About two years. Why?”

I leaned back, a smirk playing on my lips. “Does the name Callahan ring a bell?”

Ruby took a sip of her drink, buying herself time to think. “Yeah,” she said. “Organized crime family? They keep like…killing people and trafficking drugs and thinking they can get away with it, right?”

I raised my brow, trying my best to hold back a smile. “Well, that’s an oversimplification.”

Her brow furrowed for a moment before recognition dawned in her eyes. “Wait, you’re not…”

I nodded, watching her reaction carefully. “Guilty as charged. You never asked for my surname.”

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