by Magan Vernon
Every table with a red leather seat and the mahogany booths were occupied, even at this crazy hour of the night.
Clay scanned the menu, and even in my hazy state, I saw his brow furrow. I had Dad’s credit card, and since this was a business trip, I figured there was no reason not to use it.
So, when the waitress asked for our drink order, I didn’t even let him order water or whatever else he would have said. I pulled out the black card and set it on her tray.
“Bottle of the house red, some mozzarella sticks, and antipasti to start,” I said as if I casually ordered a weeks’ worth of alcohol and carbs for an appetizer all the time.
The waitress’s eyes widened before she nodded. “All right. I’ll get that in and be right back with the wine.”
“You didn’t need to do that,” Clay muttered as soon as the waitress was out of earshot.
“Well, I’m starving, and it’s our wedding night, so Daddy should pay for it.”
He raised an eyebrow, gesturing his chin toward me. “That the same card you threatened to use and say it was me if I didn’t take you out tonight?”
Guilt riddled my already pounding head. Damn, I needed food and to get out of this haze.
“Yeah ... but I wouldn’t have actually done that. I like you too much for that. I mean ... well, you’re a good guy, and I know you wouldn’t have left me like that anyway.”
“You really think I’m a good guy?”
I shrugged, trying to be nonchalant, but my face felt like it was a million degrees. “Well, yeah. You didn’t just leave me after, you know, everything went down in the club. Instead, you asked me to marry you, so I’d say that’s a good guy.”
“Some would probably disagree,” he muttered, fiddling with his napkin.
Our conversation was momentarily interrupted when the waiter brought a bottle of wine to the table and the mozzarella sticks that I dug into without considering I should act like a lady.
Once I finished stuffing my face with the fried cheese, I wiped my mouth and stared at Clay with his eyes turned to the table.
“Why do you think you’re a bad guy?”
He smirked, shaking his head. Downing his glass of wine, he then twirled the mozzarella stick in his fingers. “Is there anything about me that doesn’t say bad guy?”
“I mean maybe the Mohawk and tattoos on the outside might give off that whole bad boy vibe, but behind that pierced exterior is a really, really good guy. A loveable but dangerous miscreant.”
He laughed. “I don’t know about that one.”
I shook my head, dropping the fried bread and reaching across the table to take his hand in mine. Those beautiful green eyes of his met mine, and I tried to keep my breathing even.
“You’re more than what you want everyone to think. We might fight like an old married couple, and you give off this gruff attitude, but we both know you’re the guy who would do anything for anyone else. I’ve seen how you’ve directed people when the general manager just sits on his ass, and how you treat every busser the same as directors. You’re the real deal.”
“Didn’t think you even noticed me.”
I bit down on my bottom lip. “I lied.”
He ran the rough pad of his thumb across my bottom lip. It was as if there was a direct connection from my mouth to my core, and I clenched my legs together.
“You have too sweet of lips for lying.”
And if things couldn’t get any worse, my appetite for fried foods went out the window. All I could think about was getting back to the hotel room for the perfect end to our wedding night.
Chapter 23
Clay
“I don’t see how crackers, sugar, butter, and chocolate can make something appetizing enough that it would be called crack,” Christy quipped as Brooke pulled the first pan out of the oven.
Christy had finally got comfortable enough to sit on one of the barstools at the counter next to Vi and even took the glass of wine Lydia offered to her.
“Oh, just you wait,” Brooke said, her eyes sparkling as she set the pan on the counter before spreading a bag of melting chocolate chips on top.
She put the pan in the fridge, pulling out another hardened set of the chocolate goodies.
Mom grabbed a knife and cut a piece, handing it to Christy, who stared at it as if it would burn her before gingerly grabbing the sticky morsel.
Taking a small bite, she licked her lips as her eyes lit up. “Okay, so that is good.”
Everyone around the bar laughed, and Brooke took a sip of her wine before speaking. “Surprised this is your first time putting something like that in your mouth.”
Christy’s face flushed, and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. “Not funny, Brooke.”
I took a pull of my beer, eyeing my sister who shrugged.
“What? I’m just saying, if she’s hanging out with you, you’re not exactly the choir boy.”
“Hey, we all can’t have a voice like Eddie,” I said, pointing the top of my bottle in his direction even though I knew full well that wasn’t what she was talking about.
“Yeah and he never got caught stealing the pastor’s cigarettes either,” Brooke said, raising her eyebrows in challenge.
Was she really going to play “who’s the good sibling” right now?
“I remember when Clay said he was going to join the Army; his father asked if there was a drug test and if he could take it for him,” Mom, my supposed ally, chimed in, which caused another roar of laughter.
I didn’t want to mention my dad would have probably flagged something with as much medication as he was on. Not a good thing to say about a deceased man. But my family was making me out to be some kind of degenerate in front of not just my boss’s daughter, but the girl who I was also married to and kind of wanted to keep it that way.
Not to mention, she would have never taken any sort of drugs if it wasn’t for my friend. The guilt ached inside me, and I took a big gulp of my beer, trying to ignore it.
“Not much has changed since the Army if what drifts over to this side of the fence says anything,” Eddie added with that damn dimpled smile I suddenly wanted to punch off his face.
“Aw, are we embarrassing you Clay-Doh?” Brooke cooed, throwing her arm over my shoulder.
“Nope, cool as a cucumber,” I grumbled, finishing my beer.
She eyed me suspiciously but didn’t say another word or throw a jab my way for the rest of the night.
Just when I was thinking things were going all right, Christy was now seeing what my family thought of me. Always the joker, the smoker, and not the type of guy who wouldn’t let a girl get high in Vegas.
The walk back to my place was short, dark, and silent. I didn’t try to make Christy hop the fence this time and walked around to the front gate.
“So, your family likes to rib on you too, I see,” Christy said softly once we were in my yard.
I shrugged. “Yeah. I can handle it, though. I know it’s all in good fun, and they’re just trying to embarrass me in front of you.”
“Usually you’re the one trying to get a rise out of me,” she said, bumping my shoulder.
“Yeah, I guess they have twenty-five good years of ammunition, though.”
“I know we went to school together, and you were a senior when I was a freshman, but I never really got to know you then ...”
I shrugged. “Wasn’t much to know then or now really. Was an asshole then, still one now.”
She shook her head, coming to a stop at the edge of the house near the looming willow. “You’re not as much of an asshole as you try to make everyone think you are. I don’t believe that.”
I grimaced. “You’d be the first.”
She leaned against the house. “I’m a bitch. I know that. I’ve owned it most of my life. But when my friends or family members point it out, that’s when the feeling really sticks in my gut. Like I don’t want to be a bitch or the crazy girl who had to leave college because she couldn’t hack i
t. I just want to be me.”
I let out a slow breath and pushed my back against the house, staring at the light of the moon. “I knew I couldn’t hack college. I was just a punk kid from the country, so I joined the Army. I didn’t know what the fuck I was getting into or the nightmares that would follow from shooting for a living.”
I’d never said the words out loud, but something about the light of the moon and Christy’s words were bringing out new parts of me I’d long hidden.
“Mom always says she’s hard on Julie and me because she knows what it’s like to live in a war zone and not have anything, so she wants the best for us. I guess it’s her way of coping with growing up in the bowels of Korea.”
“I guess being an asshole and smoking a lot of pot are mine. Keeps the crazy at bay,” I muttered.
“If you’re crazy, then I have to be whatever double crazy is.”
I turned toward her, taking a chance and leaning in to brush my thumb along her jawline. I watched her suck in a slow breath that matched the rhythm of my heartbeat. “You aren’t crazy.”
She smirked. “You’re also the first to say that.”
“Maybe we’re both crazy, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Normal people suck,” I whispered, leaning in so my words brushed her lips.
Her mouth opened in waiting and, damn, did I want to kiss her.
But Snogs’ barking rang in my ears from behind the fence, which wouldn’t have normally bothered me, but I heard the telltale sign of slapping water. The water in my covered pool.
Pulling away, I ran for the back fence, slamming the rickety wooden door open. Without even thinking what I was doing, I jumped in feet first, clothes on, into the cold water.
Some people—aka my sister—had fancy pool covers advertised to be so sturdy an elephant could walk on them. I was not one of those people and bought a big blue plastic cover that looked like bubble wrap on eBay. The one my dog was currently wrestling with.
“It’s okay. I got you, girl,” I yelled, slogging through the water until I was able to untangle my poor wet dog. I tossed the cover on the cement beside us and held the wet, behemoth of a sixty-pound crying dog close to my chest.
She happily licked my face, her tail thwapping and making large splashes in the water.
“Is she okay?” Christy’s quiet voice sounded, and I turned to see her standing at the edge of the pool.
I waded over to the ledge, placing my wet dog near the Grecianesque tiled waterfall that had never worked.
“Yeah, I think she’s okay. I’ll warm her up with a towel, though,” I said, rubbing my hand down the length of my face.
“Poor thing,” Christy cooed, leaning over and pulling off her hoodie, quickly wrapping Snogs in the large black material.
“You didn’t have to do that. I’m getting out anyway.” I shook my head. “Probably shouldn’t have jumped in with clothes on.”
“Is it freezing? Do you need me to get you a towel too?” she asked, looking from the door and back to me.
It was still dark without any lights on in the back, and the only bit of brightness was from the moon overhead and the millions of stars dotting the sky.
“Yeah. They’re in the closet in the bathroom. Go through the living room and—”
Before I could finish speaking, the world moved in slow motion and faster than my words all at the same time. Snogs bounded up from the fountain, running at full charge toward the door and knocking Christy off her footing.
Christy bobbed, trying to catch herself with her heels, but instead, she just made windmills with her arms as she tipped backward.
I moved just in time to catch her in a fireman’s carry as we both went under and came back up, sputtering the cold water.
“Snogs, calm the fuck down, girl,” I yelled, but it was already too late. She had shaken, snorted, then bound through the doggy door.
I groaned. “I’m sorry about that. Are you okay?”
I looked down, my arms still around Christy and now her hands pressed against my chest, plastered with my shirt stuck to me like a second skin.
“It’s not as cold as I thought it would be,” she murmured, her eyes locked on mine as she slowly pulled off her shirt, tossing it to the side.
I sucked in a breath. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen all her creamy white skin in nothing but a black bra, but having her this close, and the intensity of her words had my chilled body now standing at attention.
She turned in my lap, straddling my hips with hers, firmly planting her core on my aching dick.
Without words, I lifted my arms, letting her peel my shirt off and toss it aside with her discarded clothes.
This wasn’t the corner of a public pool with her trying to jump on my dick because she thought she owed me something.
This was us. Having a moment.
And there was nowhere I wanted to be more than inside of her.
My fingers made quick work of unhooking her bra as her lips crushed mine. She kissed me like she needed it more than air, letting soft little moans escape into my mouth. With each flick of her tongue against mine, I groaned, my hands running the smooth lines of her back and curves of her hips.
Turning us, I pushed my back against the pool wall, grounding my boot-clad feet on the floor as her little body moved against me, each graze of her puckered nipples against my chest sending a bloom of pleasure straight to my dick.
A public pool was one thing, but having her alone in my own pool, after meeting my family, was different. If she knew that was different. That this wasn’t just sex.
It took everything I had to pull my lips from hers and trail my kisses to her ear. “We don’t have to do any of this. We can stop now and go inside, get some warm towels, and forget this happened.”
“I don’t want to forget anything with you again,” she whispered before pressing her lips to mine again.
A low growl emitted from deep in my throat, a new need to have her taking over. Her words were the promise of something more even if it was the heat of the moment. That this crazy girl liked this crazy guy, even with both our faults, and being with her, for real, was something I didn’t know how badly I was craving until now.
Until the outside lights turned on and Christy ducked her head into my shoulder, holding her hand up from the blinding bulbs.
“Everything okay out here? Snogs just ran in wet,” Noah yelled from somewhere behind me.
Recognition must have dawned on him because he swore under his breath. “Um. Okay. I’m going back inside, so I don’t know what your response will be, but please clean up because I’m not going to try to get that shit out of the filter when it’s not running.”
As soon as the patio door closed behind him, Christy let out a breath against my neck, and I laughed. There was nothing funny about being caught in my own pool with a girl, but if it wasn’t me, I’d be laughing harder.
“That kind of poured cold water on the situation. Pun intended,” Christy muttered.
I grabbed our shirts and her bra from the concrete pad behind us, handing them to her. “I guess maybe we should continue this later?”
“And face Noah after I’m pretty sure he just saw me dry humping you shirtless?” She blinked.
I shrugged, cursing myself for not moving this into the bedroom sooner. “Could be worse, I guess?”
And just like that, her cold demeanor was back, and she climbed out of the pool, grabbing my hoodie from the side and leaving her back to me as she put it on.
Like I didn’t just have her pressed against me.
“Hey,” I called and quickly climbed out, my clothes weighing what felt like a million pounds as I slowly stood and went to her side. “Don’t freeze me out, please.”
She shook her head slowly. “I’m not. I just ...”
She bit her bottom lip, and there went my dick again. Mind of his own.
Sighing, she looked up, pushing away the wet strands of my hair plastered to my forehead. “I do really like you, Cl
ay, okay? But things just always seem to interrupt us, or one of us does something wrong, and I don’t know if it’s the universe telling us something or what.”
I shook my head, cupping her face in my hands and tilting her chin so I could meet those chocolate brown eyes. “I didn’t let you do anything with me in the pool in Grand Prairie because I didn’t want it to be meaningless. I’m not with you just because I want to screw you. Though, if you couldn’t tell, I really fucking do.”
She smiled, a silent laugh escaping her nose.
“But even though I may be crazy and fucked up even, I’m not going to force you into anything either.”
I should have added even to stay married to me, but she must have taken my silent implication in as she nodded.
“I should go. I have some extra yoga pants in my car that I can change into before going home.”
“You sure? I can dry your clothes, and we can watch a movie with Snogs ...”
She shook her head, already pulling back. “Maybe another time.”
My fucking heart sunk just hearing her say those words.
“When am I going to see you again?”
I didn’t mean at work. I knew that was a given, and as she bit down on her bottom lip, looking at the ground, I knew she did too.
“Next week’s Christmas. Work’s crazy, but after service at church, I think my parents are heading to the Conti’s Christmas Eve party if you’re free.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Is that an invitation?”
She smiled, slowly walking backward. “It just might be.”
Chapter 24
Christy
The Lyft ride back to the hotel felt like the longest trip of my life.
Every swipe of Clay’s thumb against my knuckles on our intertwined hands was like a direct line to my aching core.
We might not have spoken a word, but my heart was beating so hard that I swore he could hear the booming sound with each step.
Why the hell was I so nervous?
