by KG Fletcher
They stared at each other for several seconds before Clay looked out into the lobby then back at her. Her heart sank, hoping that a lucky female wasn’t waiting for him, his next question taking her by surprise.
“You thirsty? Can I buy you a drink?” He seemed so relaxed and at ease. His invitation had her coming undone. The gorgeous male standing in front of her was nothing like the shy boy back in high school. His charm and easygoing attitude was a total turn-on. The Nelly lyrics inadvertently crept into her mind. It was definitely getting hot in here!
Katie swallowed and couldn’t help but smile. “Sure.” If Stacey could see her now…
He motioned his hand for her to walk ahead. As they entered the lobby, she started to walk back toward the ballroom. His hand was suddenly on her arm pulling her to a stop. Confused, she looked up into his face.
“I was hoping we could hit the lobby bar where it’s not so loud. Is that okay?”
“Okay.” She nodded like a bobble-head doll, her breath momentarily leaving her chest.
CHAPTER TWO
Clay Watkins was still shy around Katie Parker. It was one thing being in front of a crowd with a guitar in his hands, but entirely another being in front of the girl from high school he had crushed on. Seeing her after all these years took him by surprise. Walking into Lakeside High School that first day ten years ago as the new kid in town, he didn’t know what to expect. The day dragged on with people snickering behind his back, curious eyes watching his every move. The nickname, Cowboy, was instant, probably because of the sturdy boots he wore. The same ones his daddy had bought him at the boot outlet on the outskirts of Nashville for his eighteenth birthday. His daddy drove a big rig and couldn’t help himself wanting to give his son something special for the milestone birthday. The memory of opening that big box and pulling out the fragrant, sturdy leather while his father looked on with pride was one of the top three moments in his life. The bottoms of those boots had been re-soled countless times, the last right before his daddy’s funeral a little over a year ago. He hadn’t worn them since, the memories too painful.
When it came time for his first lunch experience at the new school, he followed the herd of kids into the cafeteria and went through the motion of standing in line and selecting his meal. He knew it was a good sign when they served fried chicken. He loved fried chicken. After he paid the cashier and walked out into the noisy area filled with the jocks, the preps, the goths, and the geeks, he stood there shaking in his boots, wondering where the hell to sit.
Katie Parker was an angel in disguise. The look on her youthful, beautiful face when she approached him was one of empathy and understanding. He couldn’t remember exactly what she said to him among the noisy chatter of the students, only that she was just about the nicest, most sincere person he had met that day. That and the fact her big doe eyes did things to his insides. She invited him to join her and her friends at their table.
Clay sat silently, for the most part, eating his meal and observing the group. He answered a few questions about where he was from and how his first day was going offering one-word answers, never getting too involved. Katie’s best friend Stacey was preoccupied with a big boy named Brent who seemed friendly enough. The two were practically sitting in each other’s laps. He recalled thinking Stacey was kind of cute, but she wore too much makeup, unlike Katie who was a natural beauty. He only ate with them that first couple of days, too shy to keep up the energetic conversations and the constant barrage of questions. Bringing a bagged lunch from home, he opted to sit alone in his pickup truck and eat in peace, jotting down song lyrics in an old spiral notebook he kept in the glove compartment. One of those parking lot songs was inspired by Katie’s kindness and when he would occasionally pass her in the hallway in-between classes, he always offered a genuine smile and polite “hello,” thrilled when she would smile back. He wished he had the guts back then to ask her out, but his shyness as a teenage boy was debilitating. Seeing her here, tonight at the reunion, was an unexpected surprise. Even more surprising was the fact that there was no wedding band on her left hand. Another sign.
“What can I get for you?” he asked.
“Gin and tonic. Tanqueray if they have it, please.”
He nodded and managed to get the bartender’s attention. “Tanqueray and tonic for the lady and Gentlemen Jack on the rocks for me.” The barstool was comfortable, and the room was much quieter than the big ballroom. This was more his style and put him at ease.
“Excuse me for one minute while I text my friend to let her know where I am,” Katie said as she pulled a cell phone out of her purse.
“No problem,” he replied.
The bartender efficiently mixed the drinks and placed them on white cocktail napkins in front of their seats. Clay thanked him and waited patiently for Katie to finish her text before taking a sip.
She sighed, shoving her phone back in her bag and looked right at him with a small smile gracing her full, pouty lips. The urge to tease those lips with his own and gently tug on them with his teeth caught him off guard. He realized he was staring at her mouth and quickly looked up into her eyes. Her brow was creased ever-so-slightly as if she were trying to figure him out. Quickly, he picked up his drink and nodded at her to do the same. They held the heavy glasses in front of themselves.
“What should we drink to?” she asked.
He cocked his head in thought. Words always came naturally to him when he was writing a song. Somehow, trying to come up with words with Katie sitting so close beside him made his mind go completely blank. He could feel heat creeping up his neck.
“I know,” she said. He inadvertently gazed at her full, dewy lips again and could feel a certain appendage stiffening in his pants. “Here’s to the brilliant, sexy company that you keep.” She confidently clinked her glass with his and bit her lip as if suppressing a smile.
“Cheers.” Quickly, he nodded as the heat settled onto his cheeks. Taking a big gulp of his drink, he was uncomfortably aware of the bulge in his jeans that kept growing. Her flirty toast full of innuendos was not helping his situation.
Her face grimaced from her first sip, and she blinked her eyes rapidly.
“What’s wrong?” he asked with concern.
She rolled her eyes humorously shaking her head. “A little heavy on the ginny-juice. Wow!”
“You want me to send it back?”
“No, I’m okay. Once the ice melts a little bit, it’ll be perfect.” Her sweet smile sent a shiver up his spine. She set the drink on the bar and swiveled the stool to look straight at him. “So, where do you live now and what do you do exactly?”
Clay thought everyone from Lakeside High School knew what he did for a living. After graduation, he made a bee-line for Nashville skipping out on the whole college experience. His goal in life ever since he was old enough to pick and strum the strings of a guitar was to live in Nashville and create music. He was the classic “starving artist” in the country music capital for those first five years after high school graduation, playing dive bars and soliciting every label on music row with his demo tapes. When one of his songs piqued the interest of a certain Grammy-award-winning country artist and was released on the radio to rave reviews, his career suddenly took off. In the last few years, he had won numerous awards of his own for original songs and collaborations with other artists. It was a dream-come-true. He was never pretentious about his success, preferring to be in the background and not in the spotlight.
His songs were in high demand, the bonus of which was he never had to worry about money ever again. One song in particular, garnished him more revenue than he knew what to do with when it hit number one on the Billboard charts. It even earned him his very first Grammy, CMA, and American Music Award. Since then, it seemed like everyone in the music biz wanted to record a Clay Watkins tune. He had been dubbed “Georgia Clay” by the diehard country fans, his fame and notoriety taking him by surprise.
After his daddy passed, he had deliberatel
y taken a break from the insanity, secluding himself in his Nashville flat, visiting his mother in Atlanta at her retirement home or spending weeks at a time at the lake house he had bought for his family in North Georgia. He needed to slow down and get back to his songwriting roots and reflect on where he was in his life. When the invitation for the reunion was forwarded to him from the high school, he thought, “why not?” and threw caution to the wind, driving the four hours from Tennessee to Decatur to socialize for the first time in months. It surprised him that so many of his former classmates recognized him, some of them star-struck by his fame in the country music business. He didn’t mind signing a few autographs or taking a couple of selfies. But when the married gals started hanging on his every word with little hearts popping over their heads, he decided he should probably bow out for the night. Running into Katie interrupted that plan, much to his delight.
“Well, I’m a songwriter,” he said quietly, licking his lower lip after taking a hefty swig of whiskey.
“Like, that’s your real profession? Writing songs?” Katie asked looking at him with interest.
“Well, yeah.”
He watched the corners of her pink lips curve into a smile. “I knew it!”
Clay was humored by her enthusiasm. “Really? You barely knew me. How could you know I was going to be a songwriter?”
She shook her head and her eyes seemed to glisten. “I remember you performing at the variety show during our last week as seniors. You played and sang a song that you wrote yourself. It was pretty unforgettable.”
His neck felt hot again, and he picked up his drink to take a quick sip. “Unforgettable? Why? Did I make a complete fool of myself?” His stomach dropped as he waited for her response. For some reason, it really mattered to him what she thought.
“It was…awesome,” she sighed dreamily. “I knew that night that you were going to do something special with your music. You definitely had more talent than anyone else who got up there.” She erupted in a bout of tipsy giggles as if reminiscing about a more innocent time in their lives. “So, do you sell your songs? How does it work exactly?”
He shrugged not wanting to talk about himself and the music business. He wanted to get to know her. “Yep. You play a song for someone or send them a demo. Either they like it and buy the rights to record it, or they don’t.” Draining the last of his whiskey, the ice clinked in his glass and he made eye contact with the bartender indicating he wanted another.
Katie sipped on her cocktail demurely looking over the edge of the glass watching his every move.
“I’d like to know what you’ve been up to since graduation,” he said softly, gazing into her eyes. He was trying to play it cool, thankful for the warm buzz from the liquor that filtered through his hot blood.
Her gaze left him as she fingered the damp cocktail napkin in front of her. “I went to Georgia State and graduated with a business degree. I got lucky after graduation and was hired at a big insurance firm in Atlanta, worked my way up the corporate ladder and live a pretty comfortable life.” Her brown eyes met his. “Nothing extraordinary, like you.”
Clay sucked in a breath and was about to say something when Katie’s best friend interrupted them.
“Here you are!” Stacey was obviously tipsy, her crimson cheeks and bloodshot eyes an indication that she was feeling no pain. She had Katie’s blazer in her hands and laid it over the bar stool next to them. Slinging her arm over Katie’s shoulder, she leaned her blonde head on hers and eyed him inquisitively. “How are you, Clay Watkins? I heard you’re something else in Nash-Vegas.”
“I’m good, thanks.”
Stacey’s perfect eyebrow arched as she stared at him. Katie pulled back from her friend grasping her by the cheeks. “Where’s Brent? Do I need to come back into the ballroom to be with you?”
Stacey smirked. “Noooo… I’m great. Had a couple of shots and danced my ass off.” She suddenly leaned into Katie’s ear and Clay could overhear her whisper, “We’re going back to his hotel room now. Are you good hanging with Georgia Clay here?”
She nodded with wide eyes.
“Yee-haw! Y’all have a good time tonight. I know I will!” She planted a sloppy kiss on Katie’s cheek before leaning in and grazing Clay’s cheek with a kiss as well. “Have fun, Cowboy,” she whispered before slapping him on the back. “I’ll call you tomorrow Katie-bear! Wish me luck!”
The two of them watched Stacey maneuver her way through the tables and chairs in her high heels to the lobby where Brent was waiting. He threw his large hand into the air and waved before pulling Stacey into his body and they disappeared into the night.
“Is your friend okay?”
Katie laughed, draining the last of her cocktail. “She’s pretty excited about reuniting with her high school sweetheart. They’re both unattached and probably very horny.”
His eyes widened, and he had to shift in his seat again. He noticed a pinkish-hue cross her delicate cheek.
“So, you’re ‘Georgia Clay,’ the same guy who wrote all those number ones on the country charts, huh?”
His secret was out. “I’ve written some hit songs. It’s no big deal.” Not wanting her to get carried away with the discovery of exactly who he was, he pulled out his wallet and threw down a couple of bills. “You hungry? I didn’t eat much before this shindig and the alcohol is going straight to my head.”
She nodded enthusiastically. “I missed dinner because I was stuck in a pretty major traffic jam trying to get here on time. What did you have in mind?”
He helped her out of the chair and held open the blazer for her to put her arms in, inadvertently pushing her long hair to the side so it wouldn’t get tucked in. “I have an idea.” His fingers traced the creamy, soft skin of her neck sending a tingling sensation throughout his body.
chapter three
The summer cicadas were loud as their late evening song floated in the humid night air. The stars were bright, and Katie could swear they were blinking and winking in celebration for her current situation. Clay had spread an old furniture pad in the back end of his pickup truck and they were enjoying an impromptu picnic of fast-food cheeseburgers, fries, and milkshakes they had picked up along the way. He’d parked the truck in a secluded area by the old high school football stadium not too far down the road from the hotel. Katie had taken her blazer and pointy shoes off and sat with her legs stretched out on the thick blanket with her face turned up toward the sky. The nighttime show Mother Nature displayed was magnificent. With food in her belly, a lingering buzz from the earlier cocktails, and a handsome man by her side, she was feeling pretty good.
“Are the mosquitos getting to you?” Clay asked. One of his relaxed arms hung across the side of the truck and his legs stretched out in front of him with his booted feet crossed at the ankles. She imagined what it would feel like to have his arm draped around her.
“No, they never bother me. I guess my skin tastes pretty bad,” she giggled wrapping her lips around the red straw of her shake and draining the last bit of cold chocolate.
Clay puffed a breath of air through his nose. “I doubt your pretty skin tastes bad.”
She eyed him with raised eyebrows, surprised and delighted by his remark.
“I mean… mosquitos like certain blood types and such. You must not have the kind they like or else they’d be all over you,” he stammered.
She was sure he was blushing, but it was hard to tell in the dark. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
They sat in silence, continuing to listen to the buzzing of the insects and the faint sounds of the interstate traffic whizzing nearby.
“So, what do you do when you’re not working, Katie?” Clay asked.
She shifted her body to where she was lying on her side with her head propped on her bent elbow rubbing her bare feet together. “I dunno. I work all the time. I like to work.”
“Besides work.”
She had to think for a moment. “Well… Stacey and I hook up every w
eek to catch up over cocktails, and I see my family once a month for dinner.”
“Hmmm,” he muttered.
“I’d like to travel more someday, on my own terms, and not because I have to be at a conference for work.”
“Does your job require you to be on the road a lot?” he asked with interest.
“I have to go to the headquarters in Dallas once a month, and then we usually have a national conference in some big city once a year. Last year it was in Memphis.”
“Memphis? Birthplace of Elvis Presley,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Yep. We took a tour of Graceland. It was pretty cool.”
“I’ll bet.”
They sat in silence again before Katie sat up and slowly started to gather their fast-food trash. She wasn’t used to downtime, her idle hands becoming fidgety in the awkward silence. Where this evening was headed, she had no idea.
“Let me help you,” Clay said, getting on his knees and reaching for her yellow cheeseburger wrapper. They both grabbed it at the same time making her giggle again.
“I’ve got it,” she said, shoving it into the open bag he held for her. When they were finished, she swung her legs over the lift-gate of the truck and gripped the metal edge. He followed suit sitting right beside her. They were once again trying to navigate the uncomfortable silence. “So, you’re a pretty quiet guy,” she boldly proclaimed.
“So I’ve been told,” he replied, cocking his head to look at her. In the dim moonlight, she could tell he was smiling as they sat next to each other swinging their legs slowly back and forth, their hands dangerously close. She wished he was more talkative and not so quiet. It was a little bit unnerving.
“Do you ever get inspired to write a song about the stars in the sky?” she asked laying back and looking up, taking in the splattering of silver orbs dotting the black ink panoramic view. She rested her head on her interlocked fingers.
“Sure,” he replied looking up. “There’s inspiration everywhere you look.”
