by KG Fletcher
“Are you kidding me? We need to go on a double date! You and Cowboy, me and Brent! Holy shit! Let’s make some plans!”
Katie blushed and shook her head. “I don’t know…”
“Oh, come on! When was the last time we double-dated? Huh? Like, never! This is cause for a celebration shot. I’ll be right back with our buddy, Jose Cuervo!”
She watched Stacey bolt into the restaurant, relieved that she had a moment to ponder the intense feelings that swelled within her. Was she really falling in love with Clay Watkins? The long drive back to Atlanta was agonizing, her thoughts consumed with every detail of the time they had spent together. She could hardly get through the work week, anticipating their late-night conversations as they lay in bed pining for each other over the long-distance line. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear, and the low rumble of his voice did things to her insides that made her desperate to have him near her again. Now she understood the agony of a long-distance relationship. But was theirs a real relationship? Sure, they had joked about being married at the bar with the silly tourists, but he had never indicated that she was officially his girlfriend or that he was even leaning in that direction. Still, he was coming back to Atlanta; to be with her again. That alone should make her happy. But there was something else. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
“Cheers,” Stacey said, interrupting Katie’s deep thoughts. The two girls held up the shot glasses clinking them together. The look on Stacey’s face was one of pure excitement as if she knew what lie ahead for Katie. She could only hope.
***
Clay counted the rings echoing on his phone knowing that after the fourth ring it would go straight to Katie’s voicemail—again. It was close to eleven. They were usually done talking by this time because she had to get up so early for work. Every night he anticipated hearing her sweet voice, soothed by their conversation because he missed her so damn much. He was starting to get concerned that she wasn’t answering, his mind going down a dark trail. What if something terrible had happened? What if he couldn’t get in touch with her? Who could he call to check in on her? He tossed the cellphone on the mattress when her voicemail message came on and clasped his fingers together behind his head, looking up through the skylight at the Batman building. He had it bad for Katie Parker. Their weekend together was like something out of a country music video. He was smitten and on sensory overload with song ideas and thoughts, jotting down note after note on several spiral notebooks he had placed in strategic places throughout his home. He was always prepared for those brilliant moments because he never knew when a lyric or a melody would sneak up on him. His phone suddenly lit up and vibrated across the sheets making Clay sit up with a start.
“Katie! I was beginning to think you had fallen asleep on me.”
“Clay! Hey! How are you?”
“I’m fine, baby. I…I was worried about you. How come you weren’t answering?” He hated it that his voice sounded desperate. Running his free hand through his hair, he sighed with relief finally allowing himself to relax.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been out with Stace. We had margaritas.” She hiccupped before saying, “Excuse me.”
Clay couldn’t help but grin as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Margaritas, huh? How many did you have?” He could tell by the slow timbre of her voice—she was inebriated.
“I only had two. But Stacey gave me a couple of shots of tequila to celebrate.”
“Celebrate what?”
“Me and you!”
His heart seized with joy at the sound of her happy voice, and he wished he could be by her side celebrating with her. Packed and ready to hit the road first thing in the morning, Clay was anxious to get to Atlanta and fold her into his arms again.
“Clay? Are you my boyfriend?” she asked innocently. He doubted such a question would come from her luscious mouth without a shot or two of tequila loosening her lips.
“Do you want me to be?” he replied softly.
“Mmmm,” she sighed breathily into the phone. “I do.”
“Okay, then yes. I’m your boyfriend. Which means you’re my girlfriend.” There was silence on the other end. “Katie? Hello? Are you still there?”
“Yes…” her voice was higher than usual as if she were trying to keep her emotions in check.
“Pretty Girl, are you crying?” He had to bite his lower lip to keep from chuckling, imagining his tipsy new girlfriend trying to navigate her amplified feelings with no inhibitions due to the alcohol.
“I’m…just…so…happy,” she spluttered in between breaths.
Clay stood and paced in his bedroom, wishing he could climb through the phone to comfort her. “I’m glad I made you happy. That’s all I want to do…Now I want you to do something for me, okay?”
“Okay,” she sniffled.
“I want you to make sure your front door is locked tight.”
“It is.”
“And I want you to drink a glass of water and take two Tylenol before you get into bed. You have to get up early and work tomorrow, right?”
“Mmhmm…”
He could hear the faucet come on. “It’s really late. You need to go to bed and get some rest. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”
“I can’t wait to see you either.” She paused. “Clay?”
“Yes, baby.”
“I really, really, really like you.”
Her voice sounded so young and small reminding him of those days in high school when he crushed on her. Contentment washed over him like a warm shower. He sat back down on the edge of his bed and smiled. “I really, really, really like you too, Pretty Girl.”
***
Katie barely made it into work the next morning. The incessant chatter of her third conference call sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard, making her wince. She leaned her elbows on the edge of her desk, forcefully pushing the pads of her fingers into her throbbing temples. Stacey was a bad influence on her, especially in times of celebration. She couldn’t remember how many shots they ended up drinking, vaguely recalling several empty glasses scattered across their table by night’s end. They were so caught up in their impromptu drinking game that they forgot to order dinner altogether. By the time the Uber driver picked her up at the restaurant and dropped her off at home, it was after eleven. All she wanted to do was call Clay and hear his sexy voice before she went to sleep. She remembered calling him but couldn’t remember what they had said to each other. There was no telling what she communicated to him in her intoxicated state, which left her feeling uneasy.
Looking at the clock on her computer monitor, she realized she only had a couple more hours until she would lay eyes on him again. Just thinking about their reunion sent a jolt of electric shock waves to her inner thighs making her press her knees together under her navy-blue pencil skirt. When the last of her colleagues signed off on the call, she collapsed in her office chair and closed her eyes.
“Knock, knock!”
Recognizing Dale’s voice, she cocked her head and opened one eye to see him entering her office. He raised an eyebrow and immediately put his hands on his trim hips.
“Napping on the clock, Kathryn? That’s not like you.”
Katie moaned and sat up holding her head in her hands. “I’m not napping. I’m hung-over thanks to Stacey. We went out last night and drank tequila.”
“To-kill-ya! That’s hardcore Ms. Parker. What was the occasion?”
“I’m in like…”
“So I see.” Dale sat in the office chair directly in front of her desk and crossed his legs settling his hands daintily on his knee. “When do I get to meet this, Mr. Watkins?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“You’ll have to get in line. It seems he’s a pretty popular guy among my friends.”
“This is true. The man who can snag the beautiful Kathryn Parker is worth the wait in line, my dear.” He smiled brilliantly. “Have you eaten today? You look peaked.”
“I told you,
it’s the alcohol. I’m never drinking again…” She dramatically collapsed her head onto her arms on the desk.
Dale stood and approached the desk, tapping her on the shoulder. Looking up at him through narrowed eyes, he offered his hand. “Come on. I’ll buy you an afternoon latte and a Danish in the employee cafeteria. That’ll make you feel better.”
“You’re a lifesaver.” Katie hoisted herself up out of the chair and put her hand in his.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Clay started his journey at the crack of dawn and made it to Atlanta by mid-morning. Katie had told him she was leaving a key to her condo under the front porch mat and had given him instructions on how to turn off the alarm. Instead of pining the day away in her home waiting for her to get off work, he decided to surprise his mother with a visit. They enjoyed lunch together and started an impromptu game of canasta with some of her friends in the game room that overlooked the gardens. It was reassuring to see his mama happy and healthy in her new environment, enjoying the activities and friendships she had made within the safety of the elderly community. The guilt he had felt moving her there was slowly dissipating as he watched her laugh and giggle among her friends each time he visited. To see his mama flourishing after the devastating loss of Big Daddy was an answered prayer.
They strolled down the hallway to her suite, arm in arm, the faint aroma of her perfume a sweet reminder of his youthful days living at home.
“Tell Katie I said hello,” she said unexpectedly.
Clay stopped in his tracks. “How’d you know I’m in town to see her?”
Birdie Watkins tilted her head back so she could look her son in the eye. “Sweetheart, you didn’t drive all the way to Atlanta on a Friday morning to come and see me,” she chuckled as she pulled him forward and they continued walking down the hall.
“Mama, that’s a terrible thing to say. I would come and visit you every day if I could.”
“I know.” She patted his arm reassuringly with her wrinkly hand.
When they got to her room, she motioned for Clay to sit in one of two wing-back chairs positioned by a large, bay window.
“Now that we’re alone, tell me what’s been going on. Are you and Katie an item now? I have to admit, I really like her.”
Clay looked away, embarrassed. “I like her too, Mama. I like her a lot.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m happy for you.” She paused. “There’s something else on your mind. Something that doesn’t have to do with Katie. What is it, son?”
Clay looked at his mother with wide eyes. She knew him like no other. It was some kind of power that all mothers had, he supposed. Having Birdie Watkins as a mother was a blessing, for sure. She always seemed to have just the right words to comfort him in times of struggle—her words of wisdom a welcome navigation tool he used when trying to make hard decisions. He had contemplated talking to her about the whole Ryman offer but hesitated, knowing that it might bring up sad memories of his daddy. The last thing he wanted to do was make her melancholy.
“What is it, honey?”
He ran his fingers through his hair before leaning his elbows on his knees, rubbing his hands back and forth. “Buddy made me an offer at Warner Music.”
“An offer doing what? Writing more hit songs for the stars?”
Clay shook his head and met her eyes with a look of uncertainty. “Writing more songs for myself…and going on my own tour, as an artist. He wants to introduce me at the Warner Music anniversary special in September. Mama, the anniversary special is taking place at…” He took in a deep breath, images of his daddy coming to mind as he said the words. “The Ryman.”
Birdie breathed in quickly through her nose and closed her eyes. A small smile graced her lips, and when she opened her eyes back up, they were glistening.
“I don’t know if I can do it,” Clay whispered, his voice tinged with emotion. He felt small and vulnerable in front of his mother, trying to navigate the overwhelming feelings of uncertainty that jostled inside him. He needed some motherly words of wisdom as he tried to make one of the most significant decisions of his life and career. He just wished his daddy was sitting across from him too.
Birdie grabbed a tissue out of a box sitting on a small side table next to her chair and wiped at the corners of her eyes. “Do you remember the first time you sang in front of Big Daddy and me?”
Clay sat up and immediately recalled the moment she was referring to. It was many years ago, a few days shy of his thirteenth birthday. By this time, he had been taking guitar lessons for several years and had filled up notebooks full of song ideas. He hadn’t dared to perform them for anyone, especially his family, secluding himself in his room to practice and create. One of his mother’s favorite cousins had recently passed, and he had wanted to cheer her up. Sitting by the window in his bedroom, he had watched a small bird bathing in the birdbath his daddy kept filled up, surrounded by the begonias and azaleas his mother tended. Inspired by the pure beauty of the happy bird flitting about in the water, he wrote a song and titled it, “Little Bird.” He dedicated it to his mother and performed for the first time in front of his parents in their living room after supper one night. The imprint of their beaming faces and the sound of their applause was forever stamped on his heart, his parent’s encouragement and support a key element in his development as a songwriter in his formidable teenage years.
“How could I forget that moment, Mama? It was pretty incredible.”
She nodded. “You have always brought so much joy to our family. You can touch people, very deeply through your songs. You and I both know how proud Big Daddy was of your talent—how he thought the whole world would be blessed by your music—how he wanted you to go all the way…”
“All the way,” Clay repeated in a whisper.
“You’re more than ready, honey. Believe it or not, you were ready ten years ago when you set off for Nashville with more confidence and ability than anyone I ever knew.” Rising from her chair, Birdie approached him, cupping his chin tenderly and lifting his head to look up at her. “I love you, son. Your daddy loved you too, more than you could ever imagine. I believe he’s watching out for you. And with a daddy like yours watching out for you, you got nothin’ to worry about.” She bent forward and kissed his head. “You’re ready. Never forget how much your mama and daddy believe in you.”
Clay felt his eyes brim with tears and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” He stood and hugged her, relief washing over him. The boost of confidence from his mama made him feel that much closer to making his decision.
***
The sight of Clay’s pickup truck sent a herd of butterflies to Katie’s stomach. He was here—in her condo. Quickly, she pulled down the vanity mirror and smoothed back the stray hairs coming out of her tight bun. She grabbed her purse and practically ran across the asphalt, up the brick stairs, and through her front door.
“Clay? I’m home!” She threw her purse onto the side table and locked the front door. When Clay peeked his head from around the corner of the family room with a massive grin on his face, her breath hitched. He sauntered toward her, looking relaxed in loose denim and a black t-shirt.
“Hey, Pretty Girl. Don’t you look all dressed up and professional?” They were nose to nose, the heat between them palpable. “How are you?” he whispered, the warmth of his mouth floating over her top lip.
Katie swallowed. “I’m fine. How are you?”
“I’m fantastic.”
They hadn’t touched each other, testing their limits as to who would cave first. Katie could feel her nipples pebbling under her satin bra as he closed in on the space between them. Her fingers ached to slide her hands up and down his skin. She considered his penetrating gaze, willing herself not to reach out and touch the curl hanging over his ear. His scent was intoxicating—clean and musky. His broad chest oh-so-tempting.
“Why don’t you go upstairs and let your hair down. You know, get comfy. I picked up dinner.”
“That was so swe
et of you.” She deliberately skated her bottom lip under his chin, trying to make him cave. Instead, he took a step back and shook his head, the smile on his face making her heart skip a beat. “Dinner first, then dessert, Hot Mama.”
She pouted, jutting her lower lip out and slipped off her heels. He inhaled sharply, his hands suddenly holding her cheeks, pulling her body close.
“I suppose one hello kiss couldn’t hurt.”
“I suppose,” she whispered.
Very slowly and deliberately, he pressed his lips to hers, his tongue pushing the seam of her mouth open, welcoming her home. She moaned in his mouth immediately aware of a tingling sensation happening between her legs. It was amazing what one kiss from Clay Watkins could do to her.
Pulling back, he panted, his lips reddened from the intensity of the kiss. “Go get comfy,” he insisted, out of breath.
She nodded quickly before trotting up the stairs, her face feeling hot, knowing he was intentionally watching her swing her backside for his pleasure.
Several minutes later, they sat on her couch, indulging in Mongolian beef and Kung pao chicken.
“Thanks for picking up dinner. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
“That’s because you skipped solid food last night in favor of a liquid diet,” Clay joked bringing a bowl up to his lips and shoveling a piece of chicken into his mouth with chopsticks.
Katie giggled and leaned back on the sofa cushions licking the sweet sauce from her lips. “Stacey has always been a bad influence on me. She can get carried away and likes to take me with her.”
“I get it. That’s the joy of having a best friend.” He sipped on a bottle of beer.
“Do you have a best friend?”
Clay pursed his lips before replying. “I have close friends. You met Buddy. He’s one of them. I have a couple of other song-writing friends that I would call close.”
“But no best friend?” Katie interrupted. She watched him place his beer on the coffee table in front of them.
