Her answer was simple as she tilted her hips forward, finding his beginning, and taking him in. The sound he released, deep, guttural, and entirely too hot. It seemed she answered him just right. And if he felt even half of what she did, she completely understood where that emotional roar came from.
They moved in sync, a perfect melodic harmony of physical pleasure that felt equally emotional. How a stranger can provoke the emotional pull was something neither could explain, nor did they want to explore it because this wasn’t about that. It was about throwing caution to the wind, stepping outside their proverbial box, and exploring a purely physical need…like doing each other a favor – it was a hookup.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he panted.
He said the right things and did the right things too. Their movement was exhilarating, both so lost in each other, the rest of the world didn’t seem to matter. Her pleasure was so intense, as her ecstasy built; she thought she heard bells ringing.
Just as they shared an intoxicating ending, and Clay collapsed against Heather to hold her against the wall they had been using, they were quickly drawn from their blissful fervor with the sounds of gasps. Heather had heard bells ringing, the bell on the front door to be exact – they weren’t alone. Seth Spangler, and Molly Sexton stood, jaw dropped in shock
Clay turned his back to their company, shielding Heather, while he adjusted his pants, tucking away the evidence of their evening, then turned to face them, Heather carefully hidden behind him. Seth’s back was too them, offering privacy, while Molly had her sights set on the stars, staring through one of the skylights.
“Sorry,” Seth said in a near stutter, “uh, didn’t expect to find you here.”
“Is there anything I can, uh, help you…with?” Heather said with a cringe realizing how that sounded given what they just walked in on and that she was standing half naked behind Clay.
A nervous laugh escaped the good doctor. “Sorry, you seem to have caught us in a…compromising state.”
“Uh, yeah the lights were on, and uh…we were worried,” Seth replied squeezing his eyelids together, trying to find the words to explain their way out of why they were there.
Molly jumped in trying to save Seth with his few words all while staring at the ceiling, afraid to look down. “Yeah, we thought maybe something was – wrong! Maybe something was wrong because it’s so late and all.”
Pleased with her answer, she gave a smile, shock rolling over her as she caught herself looking back at the partially clothed couple and their disheveled look. She stiffened and quickly returned her stare to the ceiling.
“Nope, no...problem here,” Clay said with a sheepish grin and awkward chuckle again.
Seth quickly reached around Molly gently turning her around so she could relax her neck and exit without any more embarrassment, and they said their goodbye. “We’ll be on our way then, sorry for the…interruption. We’ll lock the door on the way out!”
As quickly as they had appeared, they were gone, only scuffling feet echoing through the place suggesting they were even there. At the sound of the bell, both Clay and Heather burst out in laughter.
“Well…that was awkward,” Clay admitted.
“Thank you…you know…for standing in front of me and…stuff.” Even in the dimly lit room, it was obvious her cheeks flushed with color.
“You don’t think they will…”
Knowing where his thoughts were trailing, Heather quickly interrupted and put his mind at ease. “No, not at all. They won’t say anything. Especially Molly.”
“Isn’t she the one old lady, Nora Kinkaid, has her sights on? Keeps bashing her on Facebook?” he questioned.
“The one and the same! That’s how I know she won’t say a word. She’s been on the ass end of the small town gossip mill,” she laughed. “She’s trying to get herself out of it. Rumor has it amongst the ladies that she and Seth are trying to catch Nora at something, so…”
“You suppose that’s why they were here? Looking for Nora?”
Heather laughed out loud, truly amused by the idea. “You do know who Nora is, right? Can you really see her here…in this room…with the…poles?”
Clay shuddered at the wrinkled and droopy thoughts of Nora taking a pole for a spin, or doing anything provocative for that matter. “Uh, no…not at all. In fact, with her bunions and arthritis, I’m not sure she could.”
Heather’s crooked face of obvious disgust provoked an amused chuckle from Clay – the endearing look he gave her, indicated something else. “She stops me all over town asking for medical advice. I keep reminding her that I only treat the kids and they don’t tend to have bunions.”
“She wants to show you her bunions, huh? Can’t say I blame her.” Though joking, there was a breathiness to her tone that wasn’t lost on him.
“I’d rather show…someone else.” He pulled her close, helped her straighten her crooked top and skirt before pulling her in for a soft sweet kiss. “So…”
“So…” she quickly followed.
“What’s next? What do people do next in these…situations?”
Her eyes locked on his, as thoughts of what she would like to do next crossed her mind. She answered as honestly as she could and as vaguely as she could. “I don’t know. I’ve never…you know. Done…this.”
“I guess we make our own rules?” he questioned. “I really did have a good time. Wow, that sounded…I’m sorry. I really did enjoy your…”
He shook his head, planting a palm to his face, while she laughed. “I’m really bad at this. Like really, really bad. You’re a nice girl. I’d like to see you again if…”
Bells went off in her head like a five alarm fire. See her again? That would indicate that this was a date, or that they were planning to date, and that screamed relationship and commitment. No thanks. She couldn’t, and wouldn’t, go there…not even with the good Doc. And man was he good.
“Look. You’re great. Really. But I’m not looking for anything. This was just the alcohol, and…blowing off steam.” She was a damn liar. She couldn’t even look at herself, much less him.
“Oh, yeah,” he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I get it. I just wasn’t sure what the protocol is for this…type of thing. I mean, you were great! That was fun…thanks?”
Awkward didn’t even begin to describe the state they were in, and the near insults they were tossing in an effort to protect their own pride. Heather nodded her head toward the hallway that led to the entry before walking that way herself, Doctor Clay Walker, close behind. She looked through the tinted front door window to verify the streets were still as bare as they were upon their arrival. No walk of shame for this duo, or was the walk to the door just that? It certainly felt like it, for both of them.
Heather closed the door behind her, locking it before turning and walking right into Clay. “Oh!”
“Sorry. I guess I was a little too close,” he admitted, his arms holding her upright while his stare left goosebumps everywhere his eyes traveled.
“I thought you left. What…uh…what…”
“I’ll see you home. It’s late. That, in there,” he nodded to the studio, “may not have been very…stoic, but I really am a gentleman and would never leave a pretty lady alone on the street in the middle of the night.”
“So just the ugly ones?” she giggled, as he pulled her close.
“The what?”
“You said you wouldn’t let a pretty lady walk herself home in the middle of the night, so...just the ugly ones?”
He laughed; it seemed her humor was rearing its head yet again tonight. If she weren’t so guarded, and made it a little easier on him, he probably would have a good time getting to know her. “Very funny…let me walk you home?”
“You aren’t one of those follow her home, and sit outside her house every night kind of guys are you? I’m not going to find dead birds, or creepy photos of myself with you photo shopped in laying on my front step, am I?” She had no idea why she w
as stalling or why she was being so playful. She made a deal with herself before she even stepped on the plane back to St. Helena – no flirting, no dating…no men. Truth be told, if she was in the market for a guy, Clay Walker would be her first choice, hands down. But that wasn’t in the cards.
“No, never. I prefer injecting chocolates with all kinds of fun things. Doctor, remember?” he winked, trying to keep the banter going.
“I love chocolate…” she said in a near whisper.
He leaned in, taking a cue from her change in demeanor, and humming tone, giving into temptation and kissed her. Not hard, not raw, not urgent. Just slow, tender, and sweet – she didn’t pull away, maybe that meant something.
He wondered what it meant, if anything…
Chapter 3
Heather sat in her car, staring at the entrance to the grocery store, taking in the busy activity around her. Small town USA at its finest and her own personal hell. Only a week ago she was in New York, post-surgery physical therapy behind her, excited to receive the all clear from her doctor releasing her back to full activity so she could reprise her role on Broadway.
But here she was, St. Helena’s most famous nobody, back to teaching snot nosed brats barely capable of ring-around-the-rosy, a simple ball change at her sisters dance academy. She wouldn’t dance again – professionally, anyway. Her injury wouldn’t sustain the rigorous abuse a dancer’s body endures – especially on Broadway where the demanding schedule could require up to eight shows a week.
Her dream finally realized, after a lifetime of study and practice, only to be shattered almost as quickly as it had arrived. The real knife to the gut was her shattered love life. The production director – also her roommate, best friend, and lover – no longer had use for her the moment Broadway didn’t. A brutal industry, a brutal lesson, and St. Helena was the salt on the proverbial wound.
A fast life in lights was what she had always desired; it was what she was made for. Sure St. Helena and its Barre And Tap Dance Academy didn’t bother her before New York. She actually enjoyed the children, and all of their awkward two left feet shenanigans before New York…it was just a stepping stone then. Now it was pure hell. She was better than this, she was a professional dancer that had her name in lights only days before…now her name was on a pole dancing class flyer hanging in Pickers Produce, Meats, and More.
Since her life hadn’t quite spiraled all the way to the bowels of hell, she woke up to a buzzing phone and endless text messages from her sister, and friends. As it turned out, her little escapade from the previous night wasn’t so private. It was plastered all over social media. Nosey Nora Kinkaid, town busy body, armed with a loaded Facebook account and no shame whatsoever, managed to catch Heather and Clay in an unflattering state of affairs outside the dance academy as they were saying their goodbyes.
It seemed her target was Molly and Seth, and that she and the doctor were just a late night bonus with her first post, tagging the entire town
‘Ex stripper heating things up with steamy windows – newest St. Helena Fireman there to put her fire out, or start it?’
That had to sting. Molly was not a stripper, not even close. She was the new girl in town with a new coffee shop bookstore, Brewing Grounds. This couldn’t be helping business.
Right under Nora’s stab at Molly Sexton and Seth Spangler’s escapade, was a nice little picture of the dancer and doc in a lip lock, accompanied with a less than flattering tagline…
‘Late night shenanigans around St. Helena, There must be something in the air… Looks like the doc is checking the dancer’s tonsils.’
Just what she needed. She was not only the small town girl who couldn’t seem to stay away, a failed dancer, but now tagged the town floozy by a crabby old lady. She had a sneaking suspicion that her class of tots would be short in attendance for a few days. Not because she was caught kissing, but because of who she was kissing. The town’s kid doctor, the hot kid doctor that had his own fan club full of dance moms. She was now the enemy. It probably didn’t help that she also taught the pole dancing class, given the circumstances.
She could feel it. Curious eyes were on her while her ears rang from the chatter that was likely passing between patrons as she sat in her car trying to build up the courage needed to sprint through the market, for yogurt and fresh fruit, while dodging the chatty gossip brigade like the live grenade that it was. She would just do her grocery shopping at night, but the very thing that saved her the night before when her scandalous escapade was in full swing, was her demise when it came to nocturnal grocery shopping to avoid the crowds.
Small town, everyone goes home when the sun goes down – and the stores close. Great for scandalous, late night naughty…not so great for shopping the day after said late night naughty…when you were caught. New York has 24 hour markets on every corner – not St. Helena – in fact, many shops and businesses were even closed on Sunday. How was she going to make this work, make this place home, when it was the last place she wanted to be.
One thing she did find appealing about St. Helena was that it was a tourist town. People were in and out of there, sampling its abundant wine and cheese culture, never there long enough to settle. Those that did settle, the locals, were mostly families invested in said culture.
It wasn’t exactly the place you went to fish in a pool of fresh single men. It was actually quite the opposite – the dating pool was fairly dry and she was one hundred percent okay with that. She left her hopes and dreams on a curtain pulled stage in New York, and she left part of her heart there too. Men were as good to her as her washed up dancing career and bum ankle.
Clay Walker was certainly the exception to the lacking dating pool and in regards to men being anything but useful to her. There was something about that man, he was different. She couldn’t say one way or another just why or how he was different, but he was.
Still shocked by her brash behavior the night before, she found her thoughts wandering there yet again. One night stands, hookups with strangers, and the like, just weren’t her thing. In fact, she couldn’t imagine doing it ever again. Not because it wasn’t her thing, but more so because she couldn’t get Clay Walker off her mind, and she could easily be tempted into another round of no strings attached naked tango with him. She couldn’t do it again – wouldn’t – because it would be far too easy to make a habit out of Doctor Clay Walker.
A loud clanging crash of twisting metal landed on her ears with a bang, drawing her attention to the front of the market she had been stalking longer than she cared to admit. Wonderful, a fender bender in the parking lot. She shook her head in something like disgust, but more of surprise, who on earth could land in a head on collision going exactly a mile and hour in a wide open parking lot?
Two men jumped out of their respective vehicles, each with an amused smile on their faces. Greeting one another with a handshake and a slap to the shoulder, they had a good laugh, as they sat on the hoods of their vehicles, assessing the damage and likely shooting the shit while they were at it. Another reminder of where she was, small town, simple thinking, everyone knows everyone town where wrecking your car is nothing more than a quick how ya doing reunion that ended in one inviting the other’s family over for dinner where they would figure out the whole how are we going to fix it conversation.
To make matters worse, the small crowd forming at the front of the market now included a tall handsome doctor, straight from Brewing Grounds next door, with a pink bakery box and coffee in hand. Clay Walker. The looming decision to grocery shop, or not to shop, was quickly made for her. She threw her running car in gear before Clay could see her, and stepped on the gas.
Karma had a funny sense of timing and Heather had a knack for catching it – often. With her eyes on Clay, ducking ever so slightly, she put her foot on the gas, intending to sneak out of her parking spot undetected, opposite the good Doctor. With the benefit of being a half a dozen cars down, slipping out should have been a cinch…if only she hadn’t
mistakenly put her car in reverse…the pole she backed into didn’t help either.
Her attempt at a clandestine move under the radar ended in a crashing clatter, drawing the gathered crowd’s attention. Lucky for her, they already had their phones out, documenting the previous fender bender. Now they were all on her, and she was probably already trending on Facebook. Thank you small town USA.
***
Clay saw Heather sitting in her car, watching the world go by, when he passed Pickers, Produce, Meats, and More on his way to Brewing Grounds for a coffee, and pastries for the ladies in his office. He contemplated knocking on her window to check on her, see that she was okay. She was just sitting there, staring, looking as lost as she had the night before sitting at the bar.
Thinking better of it, he continued into the coffee house and bookstore, respecting her decision to keep things informal and just to one night. Less than twelve hours had passed since he left her at her door, their sweet meaningful kiss still tingling his lips, and distracting his every thought. She was intoxicating.
How he ended up in the dance studio in the middle of the night, with a beautiful stranger was beyond him. He knew better – he was a doctor for God sake, the risks involved were enormous – yet he did it anyway. He had been in a bad way, lonely, and she was the muse to pull him from his low key pity party.
Though he agreed it was just a one-time, scratch an itch meet-up, he could be convinced to scratch that itch as often as she called on him. Clay knew little about Heather, just the few details she had shared and what he could find sleuthing through her Facebook account.
He understood her insistence at keeping things simple, no relationship after thirty or so minutes of roaming through her page. Heather was a sharer – with a broken heart. He knew about her injury, and what it meant for her career, but Facebook told him there was more fallout to that ankle injury than losing her career. She lost her fiancé too.
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