Redeeming Claire

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Redeeming Claire Page 8

by Cynthia Rutledge


  “Who is that?” Claire said.

  “Shh,” Tony whispered, and pulled her against the swing. They melted into the darkness. “She’s headed this way.”

  Claire seemed to realize the importance of keeping quiet. Tony could only imagine what would happen if word got out that the new minister was seen in the company of a half-dressed female, fiancée or not.

  They sat in silence and waited for the person to pass by. But instead, she turned and sauntered up the front sidewalk. The glow of the yard light reflected off the form. Claire started. Tony sat up straight.

  “It’s April.” He kept his voice so low it was barely audible.

  “I thought she was sick,” Claire said indignantly. “She could have gotten up at the crack of dawn and cleaned those toilets.”

  April paused at the door and turned. Claire shrank back in the seat, almost as if she could feel the girl’s penetrating gaze.

  “Claire? Is that you?”

  Claire sighed, and Tony rolled his eyes. Would Claire ever learn to keep her mouth shut?

  “We’re over here, April,” Claire said finally. “Come and join us.”

  “We? Is Mom with you?” Apprehension ran through the girl’s voice, and Tony couldn’t keep from smiling. Apparently he and Claire weren’t the only ones with something to hide.

  The girl moved silently across the wooden floor of the porch. It was almost, Tony thought, as if she knew exactly where every creaky board was located, and avoiding them had become second nature.

  “Oh, Tony’s with you.” April couldn’t hide the relief in her voice.

  “We’re out here enjoying the full moon,” Claire said.

  Tony stifled a groan.

  April’s gaze shifted between Tony and Claire, returning to settle on Claire. He knew the girl missed nothing.

  “Hello, April.” Tony spoke with an easy self-assurance, but he could tell the girl wasn’t fooled.

  She stood absolutely still, her gaze sharp and assessing. “What are you two doing out in the middle of the night dressed like that?”

  Tony’s lips twitched. Dressed in a short skirt and a tightly fitted top, the girl had no room to talk. Though Claire might not be fully dressed, her robe covered her more than April’s outfit ever could. And though his own sweatpants and T-shirt might not be a fashion statement, they were certainly adequate.

  Claire opened her mouth to speak, but Tony grasped her hand and met April’s insolent gaze with a direct one of his own.

  “Funny you should ask,” he said. “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

  “I know everyone was disappointed not to see Claire in church this morning.” Mrs. Sandy pulled out of the church parking lot and waved to a group of women before shifting her gaze to Tony.

  It was the fifth time the woman had made a similar remark, and Tony resisted the urge to point that out. So far he’d bitten his tongue because he knew Mrs. Sandy was only voicing what everyone else thought. They’d all expected Claire to be at his side this morning, but it had been his decision not to wake her.

  Last night after April had gone inside, he and Claire had sat in the swing and talked until almost five.

  Claire had been surprisingly open. Tony didn’t know if it was the lateness of the hour, but once she’d started talking he couldn’t shut her up. He’d found out what growing up as Henry Waters’s only daughter and heir had been like. And when Claire glossed over her mother’s desertion and side stepped his attempts to ask questions, Tony knew he’d hit a nerve.

  By the time they’d headed to their separate rooms, her headache had returned. And he knew that right now, regardless of what Mrs. Sandy or anyone else thought, what Claire needed most was sleep.

  “Was April feeling any better this morning?”

  Mrs. Sandy had been strangely silent about her daughter’s absence at the church service, only saying the girl was still under the weather.

  The light ahead turned red, and Mrs. Sandy slowed the car to a stop. She slanted a sideways glance at Tony, carefully keeping both hands on the wheel. He’d discovered his landlady was a woman who took her driving very seriously.

  “I think staying in last night helped April,” she said. “Otherwise I have no doubt she would have been out running around half the night and wearing herself to a frazzle.”

  “Would you have let her go out if she’d asked?” Tony kept his face expressionless.

  A teenager crossed against the light, and Mrs. Sandy frowned. Distracted, she shifted a sideways glance at Tony. “Why do you ask?”

  “I don’t know.” Tony forced a chuckle. “Raising a teenager in today’s world is difficult. I was just curious.”

  His answer seemed to satisfy the woman. A rueful expression crossed her face. “I’d say no, but then again April has always had a way of wrapping me around her little finger. So I very well might have let her.”

  So far, so good. Tony breathed an inward sigh of relief. He hadn’t known whether to mention April’s little outing last night, but since he knew Mrs. Sandy might have let her go anyway, what would be the point?

  “Now, about Claire…”

  Tony stifled a groan and leaned back against the seat. The parsonage couldn’t be completed too soon.

  Claire rolled over in bed and stretched lazily. For the first time in days, the headache that had dogged her every move had vanished. She felt great—wonderful, even.

  She smiled, knowing the reason she’d awakened with a completely different attitude.

  Tony.

  She touched her lips, remembering his kiss, sweet tenderness mixed with a fiery passion that had taken her breath away. But if she wanted to be honest she’d have to admit that was only a small part of the equation. She’d kissed a lot of men in her twenty-eight years, but until Tony, no one had stirred her emotions as he had.

  It was too bad he was a minister. If he’d been a businessman interested in relocating to a large city he would be everything she was looking for—he was handsome, fun, and his kisses were dynamite. But Claire a pastor’s wife? Even God would have trouble with that one.

  Still, it would be nice to make it to the four-week mark and show her father it could be done. And Tony did need her, at least for now. So she’d do best to go with the flow.

  The only thing impeding the flow was Mrs. Sandy. If the landlady didn’t need her help, everything would be perfect.

  Claire slanted a glance at the clock, and her eyes widened. She’d already slept through breakfast and the first part of the lunch shift.

  She started to toss off the covers before she stopped herself. Surely Mrs. Sandy would have knocked if she’d needed help? After all, the woman hadn’t hesitated to do it yesterday.

  Claire snuggled under the covers, a smile tilting the corners of her lips. What was the old saying? No news is good news? She was willing to help, but she’d be stupid to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  Thank you, God, for keeping Mrs. Sandy away from me.

  Claire’s smile widened. She shook her head. Tony was having an influence on her whether he realized it or not.

  This was at least the second time since she’d gotten to Millville that she’d prayed.

  What did they say? That God worked in mysterious ways? Praying twice in two days? Claire chuckled. It didn’t get much stranger than that.

  Chapter Eight

  Claire glanced at her reddened hands and grimaced. Three weeks of cleaning had clearly taken its toll. The acrylic nails were gone, and the once perfect cuticles had a few jagged edges. Tonight she’d have to slather her hands with that expensive lotion Tony had given her, or replace the word “hands” with “claws.”

  It had been so sweet of him to think of her on his trip to Des Moines. The scented lotion couldn’t have set him back more than ten dollars, but it was the thoughtfulness of the gift that had brought a lump to her throat.

  Tony treated her as if she was someone special, and she was beginning to like it. Claire sighed and laid down the t
oothbrush she was using to clean the grout. Yes, she was really going to miss the guy.

  “Hey, gorgeous.” Tony’s arm slipped around her waist. “What are you doing?”

  Claire leaned her head against his chest and inhaled his clean, fresh scent. “Thinking about you.”

  He turned her in his arms until they faced each other. A knowing glow lit his dark eyes, and that languid warmth that she always felt when he was near flooded her limbs.

  “I missed seeing you last night.”

  “Did you?” She couldn’t keep a smile from tipping her lips.

  “You bet. I really wish you’d give it a try.”

  Tony taught a Bible study class on Wednesday nights, and although he’d asked her to come for the past few weeks, Claire had always refused. Since she was going to be leaving soon, she was trying not to get too close to anyone in the congregation. Except for Jocelyn. And of course Dottie.

  “Dottie asked us over for dinner Saturday night.” Even as she spoke the words they sounded strange against her lips. She knew they shouldn’t. Since she’d arrived in Millville, she and Tony had been treated as a couple. Of course, Claire reminded herself that was to be expected. After all, their wedding date was fast approaching.

  And approaching equally fast was the day they would split up. They’d stage a big blowup, she’d hurl the ring in his face, and that would be the end of it. She’d finally convinced Tony that breaking up would be a much better way to end the relationship than confessing. Years later, he could tell the elders the truth if he wanted.

  “I’m afraid Saturday won’t work.” Tony shook his head regretfully. “The youth group is having a lock-in at the church, and it’s customary for the minister to be a chaperone.” He shot her a sideways glance. “I sort of said you’d help, too.”

  “No. You didn’t?”

  He smiled that engaging smile she found so hard to resist. “Actually I did.”

  “A lock-in?”

  “C’mon, Claire. It’ll be fun.”

  “Hmm.” Claire ran a finger down the side of his cheek and smiled in satisfaction when the muscles tensed beneath her touch. “You and I? Together all night? I’m not so sure that we might not need our own chaperones.”

  He grasped her fingers with his hand and kissed her palm. “I don’t want to burst your bubble but I think twenty freshmen will be more than enough to keep us in line.”

  “Ya think?” Claire purposely made her voice low and sultry.

  “You want to know what I think?” Tony pulled her close, and his fingers reached up and unclasped her hair clip. Her hair tumbled down like a dark cloud. “I’m glad that right now it’s just you and me.”

  “Me, too.” A tingle traveled up Claire’s spine, and she brought her arms up then looped them around Tony’s neck. “Since we are alone, may I ask what you have in mind, suh?”

  Her horrid attempt at a southern accent brought a smile to his face. “Why, Miss Claire—” he mimicked her weak attempt with an equally feeble one of his own “—I had it in my mind to kiss you.”

  She decided not to remind him that they’d decided it would be best to keep their kisses to a minimum. Instead she fluttered her lashes coquettishly in her best southern belle manner. “Then what, pray tell, are you waiting for?”

  He answered immediately, lowering his lips to hers and pulling her tight against him.

  Claire’s hand rose, and her fingers raked his hair, then gripped his neck like a lifeline as she drowned in his kisses.

  His lips moved from her mouth to her neck, and Claire’s breath grew ragged. His heart beat fast against her chest.

  “And to think we weren’t going to do this any more.”

  The warm kisses behind her ear stopped immediately. Tony stepped back. Claire cursed herself for uttering the words.

  She loved being in Tony’s arms, loved kissing him, loved the closeness. They both knew it wasn’t going to last. But for now, for her, the closeness was enough.

  She knew Tony worried that the kisses would lead to something more. But even if she was willing to throw caution, not to mention morals, to the wind, Tony was not. He’d made it very clear the other night that he practiced what he preached. True intimacy was reserved for the marriage bed.

  She’d surprised him when she’d agreed. Though she may have built a reputation as a love ’em and leave ’em kind of gal, the truth was she’d left a lot of them, and she hadn’t loved any of them.

  Oh, at one time she’d thought she was in love. She’d even tried to break up the man’s engagement. But later she’d realized the only reason she wanted him was that she couldn’t have him.

  She studied Tony’s handsome face. Was that why she was so attracted to him? Because he could never be hers?

  “I’m sorry, Claire.” Tony’s voice was husky and filled with regret. “We said we’d keep our distance. It’s just that you looked so beautiful.”

  She had to laugh. God forgive her, she did. She’d borrowed a pair of April’s jean shorts, shorts more suited to the girl’s gangly thinness than Claire’s womanly curves. And the little cotton T-shirt with Millville Monarchs across the back and a tiny butterfly on the front just above one breast couldn’t have been more hideous. Certainly it didn’t compare to the trendy designer outfits she was used to wearing.

  If only Daddy could see me now.

  Claire’s smile widened. “I think you need to try that line on somebody who would buy it.”

  “You do look beautiful.” His gaze didn’t waver.

  Confused, Claire looked away. She realized with a start that Tony meant what he’d said.

  It was unbelievable. She’d had men compliment her when she was wearing a thousand-dollar dress or when they wanted something from her, but no one had ever been as sincere as Tony was now.

  “Claire?” His probing voice interrupted her thoughts.

  She shifted her gaze to meet his.

  “Will you?”

  She swallowed hard. “Will I what?”

  “Will you be a chaperone for the lock-in?”

  Disappointment flooded her. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected him to ask, but it definitely wasn’t that. Claire forced a smile, and when she did speak she was proud her voice gave no clue to her churning emotions. “Sure, why not? It might be fun.”

  She hadn’t spent much time around teenagers. Hadn’t really wanted to, if the truth be known. But there were only twenty of them. And they were young. How hard could it be?

  “I said no.” Claire crossed her arms and leaned against the door.

  “C’mon, Miss Waters. Me and Angie here—” the girl gestured to her friend, a petite redhead with wispy hair “—we need some fresh air.”

  “No.”

  “I…I get claustrophobic. I think I feel an attack coming on right now.”

  Claire raised a brow. Next thing Tina would be trying to tell her she had some condition protected by the Americans with Disabilities Act. Goodness knows she’d tried every other excuse in the book. But Claire, who’d acquired the task of monitoring one of the outside exits, had been a surprisingly stern taskmaster. Mainly because she suspected that Tina’s desire to go outside was directly tied to the rumble of a motorcycle she’d heard pass by the church off and on tonight. Plus she knew all the tricks. She’d used them herself at that age.

  “I’m sure you’ll be fine.” She’d wasted enough breath trying to explain why no one could leave and she refused to revisit that territory.

  Claire gestured with one hand to two boys sitting on the floor playing a board game. “Why don’t you go over there? I’m sure they’d love to have you girls join them.”

  The redhead rolled her eyes, and Tina let loose a very unladylike snort. “Get real. Nate and Kendall are the biggest geeks in school.”

  Claire fixed her gaze on the girl but didn’t respond.

  “I know we’re in a church and all but don’t go getting all pious on me.” Tina tossed a strand of honey-colored hair over her shoulder. “
I bet you never hung out with losers when you were our age.”

  The girl didn’t wait for an answer. With a smug smile she grabbed her friend’s arm, turned and headed over to where a large group of teens sat watching a movie.

  “What was that all about?” Tony said, coming up beside her.

  Claire shrugged. “I suggested the girls might want to join Nate and Kendall, but they promptly nixed that idea. Said they didn’t want to be seen associating with losers.”

  “Did you call them on that?” Tony’s voice was taut with an emotion Claire couldn’t identify.

  “I tried to.” She met his skeptical gaze, but her tone sounded defensive even to her own ears. “But they just said something to the effect that they knew if I was their age I wouldn’t have been caught dead hanging out with the geeks, either.”

  “And what did you say to that?”

  “I didn’t say anything,” Claire said. “What could I say? It was the truth.”

  “Oh, Claire.” Tony chuckled. “All I can say is you obviously didn’t know what you were missing.”

  Claire raised a brow.

  “I’m serious.” Tony spoke without embarrassment. “I was a geek in high school.”

  “Yeah, right,” Claire scoffed. Tony was way too gorgeous to have ever been anything but a hunk.

  “Well, I was.” His voice was matter-of-fact. “Now aren’t you glad?”

  “Glad?” Her brow furrowed in confusion.

  “That you met me now.” He laughed and gave her a wink. “Because back then I would have been one of those geeks you avoided. And you have to admit it would have been your loss.”

  Claire couldn’t help but laugh with him. And strange as it may sound, she had to agree. It really would have been her loss.

  Tony rolled the dice and automatically counted off the number of spaces, his mind everywhere but on the game.

  He glanced across the room, his gaze settling on Claire. She looked lovely. The pale green of the cotton sheath accentuated her tan, and her hair flowed down around her shoulders in loose waves just the way he liked it.

  Claire caught his eye and lifted one hand, wiggling her fingers in hello. He smiled, then quickly returned his attention to the game he was playing with Nate and Kendall.

 

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