Travis was still sleeping, laid out on his back, one hand flung over his head, the other across his abdomen. He looked darkly handsome, incredibly male, and just taking those few seconds to study him had her body responding in a way she couldn’t deal with. It only reinforced to Ruby how close she’d come to letting go. To opening herself up to the kind of hurt only Travis could rain down on her.
Quietly, she slipped from the room and headed to the kitchen. The sun was up, spilling an early morning glow over the black stainless-steel appliances and shiny white granite countertops. The smell of coffee hit her at about the same time she spied someone hunched over the island.
Ryder.
He glanced up, sporting rumpled hair, five-o’clock shadow, and a lopsided grin. There were circles under his eyes, and his features were pinched. She didn’t want to think about what that meant. At the moment, Ruby didn’t have the mental energy to deal with anyone’s problems but her own.
“You look tired, Ryder.”
He ignored her comment. “You ever going to change your code?”
She breezed past him and grabbed a mug for herself. “What’s the point?”
“So people like me can’t let themselves into your home?”
“Other than Sidney, you’re the only one with my code. So unless you’re planning on stealing everything that I own, it will stay the same.”
“I’m just saying you can’t be too careful.”
“I have Tasha.”
“That thing?” They both looked at the dog. Ryder had obviously fed her, and she sat like a queen, ignoring her humans completely. “She never barked once when I walked in from the garage.”
“How long have you been here?” she asked lightly, thinking that only twenty minutes ago, she and Travis had made enough noise to wake the neighborhood.
“Ten minutes? I heard the shower, so I thought I’d make a pot of coffee.” He nodded toward her bedroom. “I take it Blackwell’s still in there?”
“He’s asleep.” She threaded her fingers through the handle on her mug and sipped the hot brew. “Do you remember when Mom left?” The question came from nowhere, and she saw the surprise on her brother’s face.
He set down his mug. “It was raining.”
Ruby thought hard and slowly nodded. “Yes. Thanksgiving weekend. I got up early that morning to help make the pies.” Her throat tightened, and she slowly exhaled. “I loved making pies with her.”
“Remember she’d roll out the leftover dough and sprinkle it with brown sugar and bake it? Damn, I loved that stuff better than the pie.”
“We made three that morning. One pumpkin. One apple. And one strawberry because that’s what Daddy liked.” Daddy. She’d never outgrown the endearment. Not even when he was piss drunk and passed out on the front porch.
They’d had a traditional meal with all the fixings. Just the four of them. Both sets of grandparents had passed.
“She smelled like pumpkin spice. I remember when she hugged me.” Ruby’s eyes closed as the memory washed over her. “She held me tight. Really tight. And there were tears in her eyes. I should have known something was wrong. But she hugged me, and I ran into the living room to watch football with you and Daddy.”
“When it was over, she was gone.”
“And she took Daddy with her. She broke his heart, and he never recovered.” She looked at her brother. “Do you ever wonder about her? Like, is she still alive, and if she is, where does she live?”
“Nope.” Ryder finished his coffee. It was a lie, and they both knew it. “What’s this all about? Why are you bringing Mom up?” His eyes narrowed. “This has to do with him, doesn’t it? Travis?”
“No. I mean, probably not.” She sighed. “I don’t know.” Her bottom lip trembled, and she pushed her cup away. Suddenly, the smell of it made her nauseous. She knew what she had to do to protect herself, but didn’t know if she had the strength to go through with it.
She cleared her throat, aware that Ryder was watching her closely.
“What’s going on with you and Sidney anyway?” Her attempt to change the subject was greeted with a raised eyebrow and a quick shake of the head.
“Not gonna work, kiddo. What’s up with you? Why are you looking so stressed?”
Her brother knew her better than anyone. Maybe it was a twin thing, or maybe it was just good intuition. She couldn’t lie to him any more than he could with her. It was why he’d avoided her observation earlier. He knew he looked like shit. He knew the why of it, and he didn’t want to share.
“I can’t do this anymore,” she whispered, more to herself than anything. Which was why she jumped when her brother spoke.