by Brenda Novak
As Allie hurried through the crowd, the crushing pain made it difficult to breathe. Several people tried to stop her. She paused to respond to a few, mechanically going through the usual greetings, but it was mostly a blur. Grace had told her that Clay believed whoever had shot him had done it to avoid being identified. So she’d gone back to the cabin and interviewed every gas station attendant and store clerk along the route. Ralph Ling, an attendant at the gas station just before the turnoff to the lake, had some very interesting things to say. But what could she do if Clay refused to listen?
I don’t need you…for anything. Those words hurt so much, she could hardly bear to think of them. And the angry glares she received from many of the people who used to smile didn’t help.
Finally reaching the gravel parking lot behind the pool hall, she headed for her car. She just wanted to know that Clay wouldn’t go to prison for a crime he didn’t commit. And she wanted…
God, she wanted more than that. She wanted him. There was no use denying it. Beth Ann had been right. Allie had assumed she’d be fine because she’d known what to expect. But she’d been overconfident.
There’s no one else, at least no one like him….
No kidding, she thought bitterly. She tried to wrench open her car door, but a male hand closed over hers before she could.
Clay had tried to let Allie go. He’d stood perfectly still while she disappeared into the crowd. Hadn’t moved when someone called to Helaina, drawing her away. Hadn’t so much as flinched when someone behind him said, “He cast Allie aside already? Me, I would’ve given her a few more days, taken her back to my house and—”
Because he couldn’t tolerate hearing the end of that statement, Clay had bolted to the bar to order another drink. But he hadn’t stopped there, the way he’d intended. He’d kept on walking, past the pool tables, the dartboards and the restrooms. Before he knew it, he was in the parking lot and jogging to catch up with her.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, turning her to face him. “I’m so sorry.”
Her eyes were full of confusion and pain when they lifted to his, which shredded the last of his restraint. He told himself to explain, to somehow convince her to leave. But he couldn’t get the words out.
Bending his head, he kissed her instead—instantly drowning in the wet warmth of her mouth.
“I’m no good for you, Allie,” he murmured. Some distant voice in his head told him it wasn’t too late to put her in the car and send her off. But he was desperate to feel her against him. And she was kissing him back as if she felt the same driving urgency. They couldn’t touch each other intimately enough, couldn’t get close enough.
Dimly, he could hear the music in the pool hall and realized he needed to find them some privacy. So he led her inside a small shed, where the owner of Good Times kept some lawn-and-garden equipment.
He barely managed to shut the door and wedge a narrow saw blade in the latch so it couldn’t be opened from the outside, before he sat her on a crudely made shelf and greedily slid his hands up her skirt.
Allie gasped and spread her legs, and he felt his body’s instant response. “I lie awake at night craving the taste and feel of you,” he whispered. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.”
He felt her move, sensed that she was reaching above them. Then he heard a snap and light flooded the small, crowded room. She’d found the pull-chain to the bulb on the ceiling. “I want to watch you make love to me,” she said. “I want to see it this time, your face, your body, everything.”
Clay guided her hand to his pants, then held his breath as she undid the buttons. Her eyes never wavered from his until she was finished. Then she looked down—and he thought he’d never seen a sexier smile.
“Can you come home with me?” Clay whispered, easing her back onto the shelf.
Allie was covered in a light sheen of sweat and feeling weak from the bone-melting pleasure. Her clothes were halfway on and halfway off, and she still had her legs wrapped around his waist.
“I need to check on Whitney. If she and my mom are asleep, and everything’s okay, I’ll drive over. For a little while.”
He pulled up his pants and started helping her dress. “This is crazy,” he said. “This is setting us both up for a terrible disappointment. You know that.”
She stopped fussing with her clothes and reached up to smooth the hair off his forehead. “I only know that I’m in love with you.”
He winced as if it hurt him to hear her say it. “I don’t want you to be in love with me. I don’t want to feel the pain of missing you. And I don’t want you to feel it, either. I have nothing to offer you. Don’t you understand that?”
“All I’m asking is that you love me in return.”
“And what good is that?” he asked bitterly. “Will it keep you safe and warm? No. Will it mean we can be together? No. I’m going to prison!”
“You’re not there yet,” she said stubbornly.
He shoved an impatient hand through the hair she’d just smoothed. “Let’s be honest. You’re a police officer. What are my chances?”
“I don’t know,” she said, refusing to go where he was trying to lead her. “A lot could happen before and during the trial.”
He buttoned his pants in quick impatient movements. “You’re avoiding reality.”
“I’m being optimistic.” She finished righting her bra and sweater, then hopped off the shelf and pulled down her skirt.
He caught her chin to make her look up at him. “Allie, if you don’t stay away from me and make things right with your parents, where will you be if I go to prison? Do you think I want to imagine people around here thumbing their noses at you? Treating you like shit for loving me? Do you think I want to be responsible for the rift between you and everyone you care about?”
“Maybe I won’t stay here,” she said. “But wherever I go, I’ll be waiting for you.”
He froze as if he couldn’t believe what she’d just said. Then a tormented expression crossed his face, and she could’ve sworn she saw tears glistening in his eyes.
He snapped off the light before she could really tell. “I want more than that for you,” he whispered hoarsely, but she had the impression that, for himself, he craved exactly what she’d promised him. And that was enough to give her hope.
“You’re not the only one who has a choice,” she said quietly.
It was Molly who answered the door when Allie arrived at the farm. Allie felt a little silly standing on the doorstep at nearly one-thirty in the morning, but Clay’s youngest sister didn’t seem to think anything of it.
“Hi,” she said. “Come on in. Clay’s in the kitchen whipping up some eggs and grits and bacon.”
Allie nodded. The scent of bacon seemed to pervade the whole house. “Smells great.”
Molly gave her an exaggerated grimace. “Yeah, well, we’ll see how it turns out.”
Faced with Allie’s questioning look, Molly quickly explained. “I was going to make it, but he took the spatula away from me. You know how he is—large and in charge!”
She’d raised her voice on the last sentence so Clay would be sure to hear her. “How many eggs did you expect me to let you ruin?” he asked from the kitchen.
“So I burned a few,” she said with a shrug. “I live in New York. I eat out. But I would’ve gotten the hang of it eventually.”
“I’m hungry,” he grumbled. “I didn’t want to wait all night.”
Allie chuckled at their banter as she followed Clay’s sister into the kitchen. Then Clay turned toward her, wearing the comfortable-looking, well-worn jeans he’d had on at Good Times and a simple white T-shirt, and her heart leaped into her throat. Everything about him appealed to her—his rugged face, his muscular body, his fierce independence, his stubborn pride, his determination to take on the whole world if necessary…and the way he made love. Especially the way he made love. He knew how to be just the right amount of gentle and just the right amount of rough.
She felt warm thinking about what had occurred in the toolshed earlier. No wonder Beth Ann was having such a difficult time getting over him.
“What?” Clay said, watching her closely.
“I was thinking about the night Beth Ann was here and called the police on you,” she lied.
One eyebrow slid up in a sardonic expression. “You were smiling.”
“It was the first time I’d ever had a half-naked woman come charging at me from the shadows. And the glower on your face when you answered the door—”
“What I remember is that you made me strip for you,” Clay interrupted pointedly. “And the fact that you were taking an awful lot of pictures. You wanted to see my chest. You wanted to see my back. I’m surprised you didn’t have me flex for you.”
Allie could tell Clay thought he’d bested her, that she’d back off because of Molly. But she wasn’t quite finished yet. “It was worth it,” she said wistfully. “I still have one of those pictures tucked between my mattresses.”
“You’re kidding,” he said.
She gave him a teasing grin. “Maybe, maybe not.”
“I’m going to check,” he promised.
Molly glanced from Allie to Clay, then frowned at the food Clay was neglecting. “Wait a second. Am I going to have to finish breakfast?”
Clay turned back to his work. “Hell, no. Then we’ll never get fed.”
“I don’t think it’s food you want right now,” Molly grumbled.
Clay threw Allie a guilty look but finished the eggs and bacon.
“How long are you staying?” Allie asked Clay’s sister as Clay handed them each a plate.
“I fly back on Sunday.”
“What do you think of the new baby?”
“She’s beautiful. I just wish…”
“What?” Allie coaxed.
“That Clay and Grace didn’t have to worry about the trial. That I didn’t have to worry about it, either.”
Mention of the future put an immediate damper on everyone’s mood. “It’ll be all right,” Allie insisted.
Molly ate the last of her food and went to rinse her plate at the sink. “I think it’s great, you know. The way you’re sticking by him.”
If only she could find something that would save him. “Thanks.”
When they were finished eating, Clay stacked their plates on the counter, then took her hand. “I’m getting tired. Let’s go up to bed while I still have some energy.”
Allie resisted his attempt to pull her toward the stairs. She couldn’t imagine marching up to his bedroom and making love with him while his sister was in the house and knew exactly what they were doing. “Actually, I should get home.”
He scowled. “Really?”
“Really. But I…was hoping we could talk for a few minutes before I go.”
“We could talk upstairs in my bed,” he said hopefully.
She laughed. “I was thinking of here or in the living room.”
“I’ll let you two be alone,” Molly said. “I’m beat.”
“Good night,” Allie said.
Molly waved as she headed up the stairs. “’Night.”
Clay took the chair next to Allie, stretched out his long legs and locked his hands behind his head. The definition in his arms and chest made Allie’s mouth go dry. Had she been crazy to turn down a trip to his bedroom? Probably. But Molly was so close….
“What is it?” he asked.
Besides the fact that she wanted to undress him right here in the kitchen? “You know the last gas station before you leave the highway to go to the cabin?”
The expression in Clay’s eyes changed, intensified. “Of course. I stopped there. That’s where I bought the condoms we used.”
Allie was glad Molly had left. “It is?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you see anyone you recognized?”
Clay’s forehead furrowed. “No. I’ve gone over every second of that night. All I remember about the place is that the attendant was muttering about some guy getting blood on the floor. But whoever it was had already pulled out when I arrived.”
“You didn’t see him?”
“We might’ve passed. I wasn’t really paying attention. I was too busy arguing with myself.”
“About what?”
“I knew I didn’t have any business planning to sleep with you,” he said with a grin. “But I also didn’t want to show up unprepared in case the temptation proved too great.”
She laughed. “It’s a good thing you came prepared.”
“I’m still prepared,” he said softly.
Desire coiled tightly inside Allie. She wanted to let Clay lead her upstairs, but she knew she’d be too embarrassed to face Molly in the morning. “I’d better get home,” she said.
“Molly doesn’t care, Allie.”
“I know. It’s just…” She felt her cheeks grow hot at the thought of Molly overhearing them.
“Jeez, you are a straight arrow,” he said with a laugh.
“No! I’m not.” She shrugged. “Okay, maybe I am.”
He pulled her chair around so they were facing each other, maneuvering her weight as easily as he might transfer a sack of groceries from one spot to another. “It’s okay. I like that about you. So what did you find at the gas station?”
“The attendant, Ralph Ling, remembered something interesting.”
“What?”
“A man came in around midnight with blood dripping from his hand. He hurried into the bathroom to clean himself up but, like you said, Ling wasn’t too pleased about the mess because he’d have to mop again.”
Resting his elbows on his knees, Clay took her hands in his. “Did Ling say who this man was?”
“He’d never seen him before.”
“Why was the guy bleeding?”
“He told Ling he’d stopped at the side of the road to let his dog have a potty break but accidentally dropped the leash. The dog bounded into the woods, and he fell while chasing after it.”
“He fell in the woods? Or he cut his arm when he broke your window?”
“Exactly,” Allie said.
“Did Ling see the injury?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Clay rubbed the inside of her wrists with his thumbs. “What about the dog? Did Ling see the dog?”
“Ling watched the guy drive off and said, unless it was a very small dog, he was alone. And no stray dogs have shown up in the area since.”
“That’s odd, isn’t it?”
“Besides that, Ling said the guy was acting a little weird.”
Clay raised his eyes to hers. “In what way?”
“He wore a baseball cap pulled very low. When he approached the register to buy some Band-Aids, he pulled it even lower and turned his head away, as if he was worried about the security camera.”
“There was a camera?” Dropping her hands, Clay stood. “Tell me he was filmed.”
“Ling thinks he might’ve been. But they cycle the tapes, so he’s not sure whether or not it’s been destroyed. Even if he found it, he needed the owner’s permission to give it to me, and we couldn’t reach him.”
“When will you hear?”
“I got a message from him just before I walked into Good Times tonight. I’m supposed to pick it up tomorrow afternoon.”
Clay rubbed the back of his neck. “What about the sheriff’s investigation? Haven’t they talked to this Ling?”
Allie hated to tell Clay this, but she knew it probably wouldn’t surprise him. “I don’t think the sheriff’s department is doing anything to find the man who shot you. They’re pretty much leaving it to my father.”
“Professional courtesy?”
“Something like that.”
He crossed to the sink and gazed out at the night, but he didn’t say anything, so she continued. “Right now, I’m actually glad. If they were investigating in earnest, they might’ve gotten hold of the tape. Now we’ll get it.”
“Have you
told Grace about Ling?” he asked without turning.
“No. I tried calling her on my way back to town, but got her answering machine. Then I tried you, with the same result. That’s when I drove by the pool hall and saw your truck.”
“She’ll be happy,” he said.
“This could mean a lot to all of us.”
He sighed. “It’s late. I’d better let you head home.”
She nodded, and he walked her out to her car. The heat was growing more intense as June progressed, and with it the oppressive humidity. But Allie liked the scent of damp earth and confederate jasimine that embraced her at the farm.
“It’s nice here, isn’t it?”
“It beats prison,” he replied, opening the car door for her. She started to get in, but he gave her arm a gentle yank to get her to look back at him. “How are you handling your father’s affair?”
“With your mother?” she asked wryly.
His expression was difficult to read, but that was more often the case than not. And tonight they were in darkness, except for the security light on the barn. “Yeah,” he said.
“You knew, didn’t you? You already knew the night I told you what I suspected.”
He nodded. “I tried to stop it, but…some people can’t avoid a brick wall even when they see it coming.”
Was she one of those people? Clay had been trying to warn her that falling in love with him would only cause her pain. He’d put her on notice at almost every opportunity. Was he right? Would she live to regret losing her heart to such a man?
Probably.
“I know the feeling,” she said.
He stared down at her. “It’s not too late.”
“Are you kidding? It was too late the night Beth Ann called me to the farm.”
Lifting her chin with one finger, he kissed her tenderly. “Then you really do have my picture between your mattresses,” he teased.
She delved her hands into his thick hair and stood on tiptoe to kiss him again, more aggressively. “You don’t know that.”
He shook his head and let go of her. “Call me when you get home, so I’ll know you’re all right.”
“I will.”
He caught her arm. “Allie?”
“What?”
