“I’m Amie’s maid of honor. I’m surprised I didn’t meet you at the engagement party, before the uh . . . bathroom run-in.”

“I was tucked away in a corner, not feeling all that well most of the evening. I guess we’ll be spending a lot of time together when the wedding plans get underway.”

“Mmm. That we will.”

Now it’s my turn to assess her tone. “You don’t seem all that excited.”

“About the wedding?” Ruby lifts one shoulder. “It’s just really fast. I mean, I guess when you know, you know, but Amie has never been one to jump into things, well not this kind of thing, so this feels a little . . . rushed.”

Armstrong is an intense person. When he sees something he wants, he goes after it, not always considering the rashness of his actions. In the past it’s created some conflict, particularly with my brother Lexington, as they often seem to have an affinity for the same type of women. My other brother, Griffin, is the only one of the three of us with a stable relationship history. But then he’s the oldest, so that makes sense, I suppose. “You’ve told Amalie this?”

Her expression becomes incredulous. “Of course not. I’m not going to rain on her parade. I’m probably just being overprotective. We’ve been friends for a long time. I just want her to be happy.”

“And you think she is?”

“She seems that way.”

“But—” I prompt.

“But nothing, I guess. I’ll support her no matter what, even if dealing with Armstrong’s mother is going to give me an ulcer.”

I laugh. “Gwendolyn can be challenging.”

“Any tips you might have would be greatly appreciated.”

“Don’t let her smell your fear.”

Ruby snorts. “Awesome. Thanks. So she’s exactly like a tarantula.”

She dips her spoon into her dessert and daintily brings it to her mouth, full lips parting. She moans her appreciation. “This is ridiculously delicious.”

“They have the best desserts.”

“I’d forgo the actual dinner part and just order six of these next time.” She digs her spoon in and takes a much larger, more decadent bite. Her head falls back and her eyes drift close. “Seriously, Bancroft. This is amazing.”

I’m a big fan of the way my name sounds coming out of her mouth. Apparently so is my dick, since he’s trying to give her a wave from inside my shorts. That reprieve didn’t last very long. “I’ll leave the takeout menu for you.”

“I may eat nothing else for the next five weeks if you do that.”

When she’s halfway through her dessert, she sighs and lifts her gaze.

I haven’t been eating my own, more than entertained watching her. “So you said no boyfriend, right? You’re not even casually dating anyone?”

She stops with her spoon halfway to her mouth. “What?”

Shit. That’s not a random question I can just throw out there without having a reason for asking it. I flounder for a second, trying to come up with something that makes sense. “Or friends you plan to entertain while you’re here?”

“Oh, uh . . . just Amie I guess. And of course the two hundred people I invited to the kegger tomorrow.” She wags her eyebrows.

I tap my spoon on the edge of my dessert and give her a rueful smile in return. “Right. Can’t forget that.”

She regards me speculatively. “Would you prefer it if I don’t have guests?”

If they’re male, yes, I definitely prefer she doesn’t have them here, but I’m not about to say that aloud. That makes me sounds like a territorial asshole, which I have no right to be. “No, no. It’s fine, but I’d prefer you don’t give out the entry code.”

“Of course not. I won’t leave any strays unattended.” Her grin is impish. “Is there anyone who has the code who might pop by, other than the cleaning lady?”

“Just my brothers and immediate family, but they don’t have a reason to stop by if I’m not here.”

She taps the arm of her chair and regards me for a few seconds. “So . . . that woman you were with at the engagement party, I’m guessing she’s not your girlfriend or anything? I don’t need to worry about her freaking out because another woman is living in your condo?”

“You mean Brittany? Uh, no. She’s definitely not my girlfriend.”

“Good to know.”

“With all the travel a girlfriend hasn’t been all that practical.”

She cocks her head. “What do you mean?”

“When I played professional rugby I was on the road a lot. And now it seems like I’ll be on the road more than I anticipated. At least for a while. It makes it difficult to get involved.”

“Ah. I understand. Theater is challenging like that, too. The hours are odd since performances are typically in the evenings and on the weekends. Unless you’re dating another actor it’s not very practical.” She dips her spoon in her dessert again. “So that Brittany chick was just meant to be a hookup then?”

I’m sure Brittany would’ve been good with the hookup part, but I don’t mention that to Ruby. “I went out with her as a favor.”

She grimaces. “Wow, that’s some favor.”

“She’s not that bad.” I’m not sure why I’m defending Brittany, other than it seems to irritate Ruby.

“She called me a slut!”

“Well, you were kissing me, so . . .” I have to bite back the smile at her incredulity.

She points her spoon at me, her annoyance clear. “You kissed me.”

I shift an arm behind my head. “You didn’t put up much of a fight.”

Her mouth drops open and snaps shut just as quickly. It’s the same reaction I got out of her the other day when I brought the same thing up at the restaurant.

Her eyes narrow into slits. I bet she’s a real firecracker when she’s angry. I sort of want to push her buttons just to see what happens when she goes off. I bet angry fucking with her would be incredible. I wonder if she’s a hair puller, or a biter, or a scratcher. Wow. That got dirty fast.

She narrows her eyes. “We are not talking about this.”

“About you kissing me back? I wasn’t going to bring it up, but now that we’re on the subject—”