Chapter 5 Clara
FIVE
CLARA
Being an outsider in your childhood home was something I hadn’t expected.
All week I’d been trying to make the best out of being a grown woman living at home, but everything felt off.
I didn’t understand the inside jokes. I caught the looks my parents passed one another when my presence messed with their established routines.
I wanted to shake them and scream, “Hey, I don’t want to be here either! ”
Instead, I did what I’d been doing since I came back—I swallowed it down and tried to fold myself into a life that had kept moving without me.
I grumbled as I folded my body into a stretch.
“Relax your jaw and your forehead.” My yoga teacher instructed the class. My muscles did as they were told. My brain, however, was still scrolling through unpaid bills, my parents’ worried looks, and the diamond ring still on my finger.
“Very good. Let’s hang here and breathe. In . . .”
The yoga studio in town was busy in the evenings, but midday, it was practically a ghost town. During the height of the tourist season, I was certain classes would be packed, but in the dead of winter it was just me and the geriatric crowd.
As a class, we transitioned to lying on our backs and focusing our breath. I was busy counting ceiling tiles. When my phone buzzed beside me, I sat up.
When my brother’s name flashed across the screen, I grabbed it and whispered, “Yeah?”
“Hey, it’s me. You busy?”
I earned a stern look from my yoga instructor, so I quickly scrambled to my feet and cupped my hand over my mouth as I walked toward the locker room. “No, what’s up?”
Frustration oozed from Hayes’s voice. “I need a ride.”
My brows scrunched. “Where’s your truck?”
He let out an exasperated breath. “Well, that’s the question of the hour. I have no idea. I think it got towed.”
A snort tickled my nose. “Still cursed by the Lady, I take it?”
Hayes growled on the other end. “It’s not funny.”
I thought it was hilarious. And ridiculous. For as long as I could remember, Hayes had suffered from impressively bad luck. Nothing huge, just minor inconveniences that made small moments in his life infuriating.
I glanced back at the studio as the class started rolling up their mats. “I need five minutes and then I’ll be there. Where are you?”
I tried to sound annoyed and put out, but the truth was, it felt good that out of everyone he could’ve called, he’d picked me.
Hayes wasn’t far, so I agreed to meet him.
After wiping down my mat and rolling it up, I gathered the rest of my things and headed off to find him.
At the opposite end of town, I saw him sitting on a bench near the sidewalk.
His shoulders were hunched against the cold, jaw tight, expression pure murder.
I slowed the car and rolled down the passenger window. “Hey, stranger. Need a ride?”
Hayes rolled his eyes and stood. When he went to open the passenger door, I quickly hit the lock button.
“Come on. Open up.” He was annoyed and I was tickled.
“Dance for me.” I tried to contain my giggles as my eyebrows bounced.
“What?” he demanded, pulling on the door handle again. “Come on, Clara. Open it.”
“You heard me. If you want in, you gotta dance for it.” I leaned forward and turned up the radio as I grinned at him.
My brother’s jaw worked and his nostrils flared, but I wasn’t giving in. “Come on . . .” I shimmied my shoulders in encouragement.
After a moment, Hayes rolled his eyes and started dancing along with the music, right in the middle of downtown. It was mostly angry shoulder shimmies and a half-hearted hip twist, but he did it. I dissolved into a fit of giggles.
“There.” His hands went out. “Happy?”
I laughed again and unlocked the door. “Yes. Very. Smooth moves.”
Hayes folded himself into the front seat. “You’re so annoying.”
I beamed at him. “Thank you.” If I could keep him dancing and rolling his eyes instead of stewing in guilt, I’d happily play the clown.
Hayes rubbed his palms across his pant legs.
“Where to?” I asked.
Hayes directed me out of town in the direction of the junkyard where he assumed his truck might be. It was a short drive, but I hummed along to the radio. When curiosity got the best of me, I glanced at my brother. “Why me?”
He hummed something that sounded like huh?
“Why did you call me?” I clarified. I wasn’t sure what answer I was fishing for. Maybe something like, Because I missed you. Because you’re my favorite. Definitely not what actually came out of his mouth.
My big brother eyed me as though he was choosing his words carefully. “You’re the only one without a job.”
My face twisted. “Damn. Okay. Thanks, bro.” I tried not to let his words hurt me, but it stung anyway. I did have a job. Sure, I didn’t have any modeling prospects on the current horizon, but that was because I wasn’t looking for them. I could have something lined up tomorrow if I wanted to.
Probably.
Maybe.
Fuck.
“Sorry. I’m just in a mood,” Hayes said.
I glanced at his rigid posture. “I can see that.”
Hayes ignored my poking. We pulled into the tow lot and sure enough, his truck was there. Before he climbed out, he looked at me. “Thanks for the ride. See you at dinner?”
I pressed my lips together. “Yep.”
Mom had informed me that morning that she and Dad wanted everyone over for dinner “now that the family was all home.” A tiny pang of guilt poked my ribs at the thought that my absence had meant no family dinners for them either.
If only they knew it had been because I couldn’t bring myself to lie to them about my relationship with Greg.
Once I saw Hayes was fine to pick up his truck, I swung the car around and headed back toward town to do a little shopping before dinner.
Picking up a few things for Mom felt like the least I could do to help out.
If I couldn’t contribute rent or a clear life plan, I could at least show up with groceries and pretty flowers.
I took my time in the little grocery store, wandering the aisles and adding a few snacks into the cart in addition to the things Mom needed.
The front display had gorgeous flowers you could bundle to make your own bouquet.
I started plucking stems to create something pretty to bring to my mom.
I hummed as I worked, arranging the flowers in a beautiful arrangement.
My hands knew what to do without thinking—balance the colors, vary the textures, tuck in a sprig of greenery here, a pop of something unexpected there.
It was the same quiet thrill I got on set, making something ordinary look like magic.
Movement caught my eye, and I looked down the aisle to see Wes Vaughn.
His back was to me, but there was no mistaking him.
The sweatshirt he wore did nothing to hide his broad shoulders and muscular build.
Even in a grocery store under terrible fluorescent lighting, he looked like he’d been cut from some rugged, broody-hero catalog.
It was deeply unfair.
I took one last look at the bouquet, and once I was satisfied, I wrapped it in paper and placed it in my cart. Then I wheeled off in Wes’s direction. Every sensible cell in my body screamed Don’t do it. The rest of me—apparently in charge—steered straight toward him anyway.
As I got closer, I could spot the hitch in his gait. There was something about him that drew me in. I wanted to talk to him, but he was giving off serious don’t fucking talk to me vibes.
Undeterred, I sidled my cart next to his. He paused, and I could feel his eyes on me. I ignored him and reached high on the top shelf for something. I pretended to struggle, and when he made no move to help me, I turned his way.
“Hey.” I smiled at him.
Wes looked confused. “Hi, Clara.”
I batted my lashes. “Can you help me grab that? I can’t quite reach it.”
His eyes were skeptical, but he moved in so close I could smell the spice of his bodywash on his skin.
Heat prickled up my spine. I didn’t move as he leaned in and stretched to reach the box on the top shelf.
The world shrank down to the clean, warm scent of him and the way his arm brushed mine as he reached.
I was suddenly acutely aware of every inch of my own body.
Wes handed it to me and I smiled again. “Thanks. You’re my hero.”
He gave a disbelieving grunt, and the rumble settled low in my belly. Heat danced across my neck.
Wes’s attention drifted over my shopping cart and landed on the bouquet of flowers.
“My parents are having everyone over for dinner tonight. Mom needed a few things, and I thought every woman deserves pretty flowers.” I twirled the bouquet, fully aware that I was having a one-sided conversation and rambling. “Cute, right?”
Wes’s eyes settled back on me, and the intensity of his stare rattled me. “Gorgeous.”
I told myself he meant the bouquet. My stupid, traitorous body decided to believe otherwise. Flustered, I swiped a hair from my face and glanced at his near-empty cart. “Looks like you’ve got more shopping to do. I’ll let you hop to it.”
Wes’s blue eyes bore into me.
“Hop to it. Get it?” I swallowed hard and a nervous giggle bubbled up. “Because of your . . .” Panic and embarrassment gripped me. The second the words left my mouth, horror detonated in my chest.
Who makes a hop joke to a man with a prosthetic?
A swift exit was my only option. “Okay, bye.”
Mortified that I’d made a joke about his injury, I quickly wheeled my cart away, banging it into a display and nearly knocking it over. Heat clawed up my neck, and I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me whole.
Just as I was about to die of embarrassment, Wes’s deep chuckle rattled behind me. I slowly turned to find him with a hand pressed to his chest and laughing.
“Hop to it.” He shook his head. “That’s pretty good.”
I offered a sheepish smile as relief washed over me. “Sorry.” I pointed to my mouth. “No filter.”
His smile softened. “That’s the first time anyone’s had the balls to tease me since it happened.”