Now And Always (Crown Creek)
Page 7
Claire’s breasts did look fuller. I felt like a pervert for even noticing that, and I would have chalked it up to her being on her period -- Heather made sure I knew that was a thing as well. But last night, Claire told me she didn’t get periods. And, there was the exhaustion. And the puking….
“Can you do me a favor?”
I startled, sending my pen skittering across the table and onto the floor. “I’m going to put a bell on you,” I complained. “Would you stop creeping around here like a ghost?”
“You mean walking with grace and poise? I know that must be weird for you, Stompy McStomperson,” she shot back as she toweled her hair.
She was still wearing my T-shirt, but she’d put her bra back on, I noted with relief. "What do you need?"
“I don’t want to wear the same thing to the office today. My assistant will definitely notice. I have some clothes in my Jeep I was going to take to the dry cleaners. Could you grab them?”
“Yeah, your hair will freeze if you go out there. Sure.”
As I took her keys, her fingers brushed up against mine. The softness returned to her mouth. "Thank you."
I swallowed hard. I couldn’t handle her gratitude. If she kept looking at me this way, I was going to be stuck in an endless loop of doing things for her just to see it again and again. “If you thank me one more time, I’m chucking you into a snowbank.”
She tossed her head. “You could try.”
Maybe I should be chucking myself into a snowbank. Anything to cool down my overheated blood. I ran outside with no coat on, and the cold wind blasting me in the face was exactly what I needed. The storm had died down, but the sharp wind sending icy prickles of drifting snow under my collar helped clear my head.
Claire had a neat reusable shopping bag of dry-cleaning set on the passenger seat. Probably set there to keep it safe from the creeping mass of trash in her back seat.
“You’re a damn slob,” I informed her once I’d stomped my way back into the kitchen and handed her the bag.
“I basically live in my car,” she explained as she rifled through the bag with her lip curled in disgust. “Ah crap, this stuff is all wrinkled.”
“I can iron it.”
She jerked her head up. “You know how to iron stuff?”
“You don’t?”
“No, my dry cleaner does. That’s why I pay him.”
“Pathetic. Give it to me.”
She watched me, half amused, half awestruck, as I pulled my ironing board off the specially carved hook in the laundry room and set it up.
“I am…genuinely impressed,” she said as I pressed her blouse for her. “You are a man of many talents.”
“My sister says I’m going to make someone a really good wife someday.” I shook the sleeve out before ironing in the crease. “Look at me getting you ready for your big day at the office and everything.”
She laughed. “Such a perfect housewife. Once I leave, will you wear pearls as you do the vacuuming?”
“No, I do my vacuuming in the nude.”
“That seems dangerous.” I didn’t miss how her eyes went to my crotch. But then it was only fair, given how much of my morning had been spent thinking about her breasts. Equal opportunity objectification.
I held out the blouse for her. But when she tried to take it, I needed to know. “How are you feeling today, Claire?”
A shadow passed across her face. “Better,” she said breezily. But she couldn’t fool me.
She was worried. And that worried me.
She finished getting ready in my bedroom, emerging with her lipstick in place and her hair styled in its usual neat cap of gleaming blonde. She looked just as beautiful as she always did, but I felt a pang of loss. I already missed the secret Claire. The rumpled, vulnerable, sexy Claire with her bare toes and pale, perfect lips. “You heading out?” I asked her.
She glanced at the clock. “I still have all this extra time,” she marveled. “I had no idea how close you were to my work.” She gave me her usual arch smile. “You’re very convenient, you know that?”
“You could sleep here more.”
It was out of my mouth before I could catch it.
Her eyes widened. I widened mine back, and suddenly we were in a staring contest.
How many times had we done this before? Kissed and then pretended it never happened? I’d kissed her last night, and she’d kissed me back, but here we were ignoring it again. It’s what I did with Claire. It’s what made us… us.
“You know. Since it’s convenient and everything,” I added.
She tossed her hair. “Only if I can be the big spoon.”
This time, I was the one to widen my eyes. I could see my expression reflected in hers, and knew she could see exactly what I was thinking. How the idea of Claire’s body wrapped up in mine affected me. The curve of her body, her breasts pressed to my back...
“Okay! I definitely have to go now.” She grabbed her purse and gave me a light smile.
“Have a good day at the office, honey,” I joked. Lamely.
She pulled out of my driveway a little too quickly, and I told myself it was nothing personal. Claire had a lead foot. She wasn’t desperate to get away from how awkward I’d made things, and I wasn’t relieved she was gone. And I definitely didn’t notice how silent and empty this place felt without her in it.
I tapped my pencil against the table. My textbook lay open, but I read and reread the same paragraph without it making any sense at all. Frustrated, I got up, figuring I needed a cold shower. But my bathroom mirror was still fogged up, and steam still hung in the air from Claire’s shower. I noticed she’d used my soap, and that washcloth right there had definitely run all over her naked body. A single strand of her blond hair clung to the shower wall, curled like a question mark, challenging me. What the hell are you doing, Ethan?
“Fuck,” I snarled. I stalked into the kitchen, grabbed my coffee, and headed out into the workshop. I needed to do something with my hands, something to focus on and keep my thoughts away from the litany of Claire, Claire, Claire that ran through my head. I grabbed my tools to pick up work on my big commission and stared at it.
And started to laugh.
My big commission, the one I needed to get going on to distract from thoughts of Claire, was the pergola I was building…
For Claire.
Chapter Thirteen
Claire
“Are you heading out?” Cole asked as I passed his office.
“What? No.” I smoothed my skirt. “I just realized I forgot my lunch in my car.”
My boss raised his eyebrow. “Claire, it’s the day before Thanksgiving. You can take a half day.”
“No way. I’m too vitally important to the organization.” I grinned at him. “You trying to get rid of me? Or are you trying to get home to Autumn faster?”
“Nice thing about owning the place is I can go home to my wife whenever I want.” Cole got that smile on his face he always wore when he thought about his wife. “So the answer to your question is, yes. I’m heading out at three. So you can too.”
I pressed my lips together. It would be ungracious for me not to take him up on it. But I had no intention of going home early. Mostly because I didn’t want to see all the surprised faces when I walked in the door.
I’d slept at Ethan’s again last night. This time, I took the couch, but only after beating him off with throw pillows and threatening to lock him in his bedroom so he’d take the bed. I’d had plenty of time to get ready this morning and still got here before anyone else.
Staying at Ethan’s really was more convenient.
And, to add to the convenience, he’d made my lunch for me. My lunch, which was currently freezing into a solid block of ice because I’d forgotten to bring it in from the back seat where he stashed it before I left.
One of these days I really needed to clean out my Jeep.
I sat down at the table in the break room and set the brown paper bag in front of me.
I had no idea what he’d packed for me, but was strangely confident he hadn’t put anything gross in there.
I was just about to find out for sure when a soft voice interrupted me. “Claire?”
My assistant stood in the doorway with a plastic tub of soup in her hand. “Hi there! You mind some company?"
"Kelly, it's the break room. That's what it's for."
She nodded like this was some ancient pearl of wisdom. I could see her panicking that she didn't have a notebook to write it down. Kelly was adorable, but the hero worship thing was getting exhausting.
"I just need to use the microwave,” she said as she skirted around me. "I'm trying to be better about eating my leftovers. What are you having?"
"I'm about to find out!" I laughed.
“You…don’t know?” Her eyes almost bugged out of her head.
When she said it like that, it sounded weird. And when I thought about it, I guess it was. I loved Sadie dearly, but I’d never packed her lunch for her.
Ethan packing my lunch was just another way he and I just...were. I felt suddenly protective of it. "Oh, I just remembered I have a conference call at one," I lied. "I'd better eat at my desk." I clutched the brown paper bag to my chest, shielding it from Kelly's curious eyes, and hurried from the break room.
I closed my office door behind me, then locked it for good measure. I sat down at my desk, and for a moment I felt silly about want wanting privacy when eating the lunch Ethan packed me.
Then I opened it and was glad to be alone.
“Holy shit, Bailey,” I murmured as I pulled out the massive ham sub. I caught a whiff of the spicy hot mustard he knew I loved, and out of nowhere my eyes filled with tears. I grabbed the napkin he'd packed, meaning to dab at my eye makeup before it started running, but at the last minute, something caught my eye.
Ethan had doodled a little cartoon turkey on the corner of the napkin. He'd added a speech bubble above it.
“Hope you GOBBLE this up!” Ethan's turkey doodle told me.
I burst into tears.
Then, horrified about bursting into tears, I rushed to the bathroom and ran water onto my hands, splashing my eyes carefully. I wasn’t wearing waterproof mascara; I didn’t think I’d need to for a day at the office, for God’s sake. But then Ethan went and did something so…so….
I started crying all over again.
A wave of anger rushed through my body. But that wave carried a little surfer of sadness. I smiled and then laughed aloud with the absurdity of it all, then felt a tug at my heart as I pictured his tongue poking out the side of his mouth as he drew it and started crying again. But with these tears came... my God, was I actually getting horny at work? Over a ham sandwich and a cartoon turkey? Over Ethan?
I rushed back to my office and let my head fall to my desk. Burying my nose into the crook of my elbow, I took deep, steadying breaths. I wasn’t going to let anyone at work see me losing my shit like this. No, I needed to be put together. Poised. I needed to be in charge. I was in charge. I was a boss bitch, baby.
“Claire?”
I jerked upright and wiped the drool from the corner of my mouth. A quick glance at my wall clock let me know that somehow a half hour had gone by. And Kelly's presence reminded me that I'd forgotten to re-lock my door.
Kelly's mouth was a little round O of horror. “The meeting with the zoning board is in five minutes. I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to wake you. You must be exhausted from all the extra work lately, right?”
If it were proper workplace decorum, I would have hugged her for giving me that out. “That must be it,” I agreed with her. “Thanks.”
She grimaced and pointed at the corner of her mouth. “You’re…um… smeared.”
“Shit.” I grabbed my phone from my purse and used the front-facing camera to check my reflection. She was right. I nodded like this wasn’t humiliating in the slightest. “Tell you what. I’ll be in the conference room in five minutes. Would you like to sit in?”
Her eyes went wide. “Really?”
I nodded. “I think you’ve earned it,” I told her with all the dignity I could muster. I didn’t tell her that I was counting on her to keep me awake too. Hopefully this wouldn’t happen again.
“I’ll go grab my notepad and be right in.” Kelly scampered off, and I breathed a sigh of relief before heading back into the bathroom.
I dampened my hands and smoothed down my hair, then pulled out my red lipstick. But the glossy slick of scarlet didn’t give me the same boost of confidence it normally did. More than ever before, it felt like I was putting on a costume.
The thought brought a fresh round of tears to my eyes. I glared at myself in the mirror. “Okay, seriously,” I hissed at my reflection. “What the fuck is going on with you?”
“Claire?”
I jumped as Kelly tapped on the door. “I heard you saying something, were you calling me?”
Oh God, I was losing my mind. “No,” I said, trying for a wink, but probably just squinting at her. “Just psyching myself up for the meeting. I always do this.”
Kelly’s eyes widened. “I’m going to totally write that down. But here. I brought you the file. It was still on your desk.”
The file. I had nearly walked into a meeting with the zoning board empty-handed. “Yes, thank you,” I said. We headed to the conference room and sat down. I tried to look poised, but inside my head, my thoughts spun around in a circle until they landed on one single question.
Could I really be pregnant?
I wasn't an idiot. I was on the pill. We'd used a condom. And I'd made sure to get tested for every possibly STI afterward too. When everything came back clean, I was almost giddy with relief. I got away with it. It's like it never happened. Everything is back to normal.
Ethan hadn’t said another word to me about the pregnancy tests he bought. I’d put them in the trash at least three times now. But he kept pulling them out. He was convinced something was wrong and that I needed to take one.
Something was wrong.
My heart stalled in my chest as I realized Ethan might be right.
It’s impossible. I don’t make mistakes like this.
But what if I did?
What do I do now?
Chapter Fourteen
Ethan
I swished my coffee cup under the tap, then set it the drain. Then automatically reached for Claire’s mug to wash next.
It wasn’t here. Because Claire wasn’t here. She’d slept at her parents’ house last night.
My house wasn’t big. And it was crammed full of all my stuff. But without Claire here, it felt echoingly empty. I missed her laugh and the way she ate so fast you knew she grew up fighting her brothers for food at mealtimes. I missed her blond hair clogging my shower drain, and most of all, I missed talking to her. She answered any question I asked her. There didn't seem to be a single topic she considered off-limits. Which was good. Because as soon as I talked to her again, I had a question that needed an answer.
Why had J.D. Knight told me to tell her hello?
As far as I knew, Claire felt the same way I did about the Knights. Of course the King family called an uneasy truce with them after Claire's brother Finn got together with Sky. She was Bill Knight’s secret daughter somehow, which made her my bully's half-sister. I guess. Maybe that connection was the only reason he'd done it.
But I couldn't shake the wariness prickling up the back of my neck. I'd been on high alert ever since it happened yesterday. I'd been crossing the parking lot toward my class when J.D. pulled up alongside me and rolled down his window. “That you, Bailey?” he called.
Hot blood thumped in my ears. I’d had half a mind to keep walking, pretend I hadn’t noticed him or his creepy, silent brother sitting in the passenger seat. I still had no idea why Lennon Knight was coming to the college. As far as I could tell, he didn’t do anything except lurk in the shadows.
But it wasn’t Lennon who had my hands balled up into fists, ready to start swin
ging. It was the sight of my old antagonist grinning at me like we were best friends. “Ah yeah, I thought it was you.”
I stopped and squared my shoulders. There had been a time when he was terrifyingly huge to me, but we were evenly matched now. And I spent most days wrestling with power tools and stubborn pieces of wood. I might not be a bar-brawling fighter like J.D. was, but I was determined to at least get a few good hits in before going down.
I wasn’t a pussy anymore.
“Yeah, it’s me. Whaddya want?” My voice sounded steadier than I felt.
“You and Claire King are friends, right?”
My fingernails dug into my palms. “What’s it to you?”
He grinned and slapped the side of his truck. “Nothin’. Just tell her hi for me, okay?”
Now in my kitchen, I slammed my refrigerator closed with more force than was necessary. Just thinking about his face when he said her name— “Fuck!”
On this blessed day of Thanksgiving, I was most grateful that I hadn’t punched her name right out of his mouth. Mostly because my family couldn’t afford to bail me out of jail.
Why did he ask about her, though? I thought about it as I brushed my teeth. I thought about it as I made sure to wear a sweater my mother had given me so she’d know I liked it. I thought about it as I checked my phone and saw that Claire hadn’t sent me anything since the text from yesterday thanking me for the sandwich.
Claire: You're a dork, by the way. Or maybe a turkey.
She'd attached a picture of my napkin doodle. I grinned at it now, then let my thumb hover over the keyboard.
Claire always answered my questions. If I asked, she would tell me—in pretty colorful language, most likely—exactly why J.D. Knight had told me to tell her hello.
All I had to do was ask.
The problem was, I didn’t want to know the answer.
The driveway was already full when I reached my parents’ house, so I had to park along the road. I maneuvered the casserole dish full of still hot taco dip (the secret was to use double the amount of cheese and half the amount of lettuce that any online recipe called for) into my arms. My sister always insisted I bring my taco dip to family events for her, even though I’d told her a thousand times it’s nothing special. “I just open cans and dump them in a dish.”