You Rock My World (The Blackwells of Crystal Lake 3)

She headed below with the bag he’d handed her and took a few moments to appreciate the luxurious furnishings. A guitar hung over the bar along with signed photos of Cain with various celebrities, including a few Oscar winners and the late Johnny Cash. She peered a bit closer at that one, noting how young Cain looked, and she concluded it had to have been taken when he’d first left Crystal Lake to live his dream.

She yanked open the bag, her hand brushing the contents as she slowly sank back onto the sofa and looked inside.

Carefully, she pulled out a white dress and held it up. The fabric was soft, the design simple—a halter with an A line that fell in soft ripples to just below the knee. There was also a sky-blue bikini, a pair of white flip-flops with the cutest applique, white sunglasses, and a floppy sun hat.

He’d thought of everything.

Ruby sat on the sofa for all of ten seconds, staring at the clothing until her eyes blurred. Was she making the biggest mistake of her life? Could she handle an entire day with her ex-husband?

“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” she whispered, gathering up the clothes. She quickly changed and took a few extra moments to freshen up in the bathroom. Toiletries were on hand as well as sunscreen, and once she brushed her hair and let it fall in long waves down her back, she was ready to go. She dabbed some gloss on her lips and headed for the stairs.

The July heat felt amazing, though the humidity was high. There was a breeze coming off the water, and for that, she was grateful as she made her way over to Travis. He was chatting with a couple of guys near another boat, and he looked ridiculous holding Tasha in his arms, her glistening white fur offset by her pink rhinestone collar and two bow ties near her ears. A guy like Travis should have a shepherd or retriever, not some dainty little fur ball with dewy eyes and an excited bark that never stopped.

Travis turned her way. “There she is.”

The tallest of the two whistled, running his hands over his shiny bald head. He was powerfully built with wide shoulders and legs that looked like tree trunks. The guy could have been Tiny’s brother.

“Ruby, this is Dalton”—he pointed to the big bald guy—“and Tim.” The second man took off his sunglasses and slowly looked her up and down. He was smaller, with a full head of perfectly coifed hair and delicate features—eyes soft and brown, pillow-perfect lips. His clothes were expensive and expertly tailored, his teeth whiter than anyone she’d ever met, and his smile disarming. She instantly liked him.

“Why, aren’t you a pretty thing?” Tim drawled with a wink. “I love that dress, and the shoes are divine.” He frowned as he studied her feet. “Ferragamo? Versace?”

“No,” she replied with a laugh. “Target, I think.”

He chuckled. “Well, fry me in a skillet, but those are the best knock-offs I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re from the South,” she said warmly.

“What gave me away? My accent and eccentric way of speaking? Or my obvious love of clothes and design.”

“Definitely the accent.”

“Well, darlin’, you are correct. I’m from the state of Louisiana. I love mint julep and my mama—in that order, if you want to know the truth. I despise shrimp, and I absolutely abhor grits. They are hands down the worst food invention in the history of food inventions.” He shot a look at Dalton. “Who in the hell invented grits anyway?”

“That I don’t know. I can always google it, if in fact you really give a turd about who invented grits.”

“Never mind,” Tim replied, throwing his hands in the air dramatically. “I really don’t care.”

Dalton chuckled. “That’s what I thought.”

Ruby took Tasha off Travis’s hands. “I don’t think you need to worry about grits this far north. What brings you to Michigan?”

“He does.” Tim gave Dalton a look that was hot enough to make Ruby blush. Now why couldn’t her sweet Raj meet someone like Tim? “Dalton is from these parts, and he’s been telling me about this raft picnic business for days and days. I finally just said, let’s get on up to your neck of the woods and have a look see.”

“Raft float?” Ruby felt Travis’s eyes on her.

The River Float had been their first official date. Port Hagan was a coastal town located on the shores of Lake Michigan, but like a lot of small towns in the area, a tributary had long ago cut through the earth and carved its way down from the Huron Mountains until it reached the lake. Every summer, Port Hagan hosted a River Float, and couples, families, and all sorts of folk spent the day floating along the river that ran through town, picnicking, lounging, and having fun.

Just then, a shuttle pulled up. It would take them all to the starting point of the River Raft Floats, some eight or so miles away. Tim and Dalton started toward forward.

“Remember our first River Float?” Travis whispered, his warm breath sending small butterflies skittering across her skin and making her shiver.

“Vaguely,” she managed to say.

“You two lovebirds coming or what?” Tim shouted from the shuttle. “I might need more than big D here to rescue my cute little butt if I wind up falling overboard.”

Ruby looked at Travis. The river in question was less than four feet deep, so Tim should be fine. Ruby should know. She’d fallen in the last time they’d floated down it, and all she’d needed was Travis.

Chapter 15