Chapter 24 – Maggie
Clay: It’ll be a soft launch.
Maggie: Do you even know what that means?
Clay: No.
Maggie: HAHAHHA
Clay: Ok, I googled it, I think it’s actually a hard launch.
Maggie: ??
Clay: You said you wanted to get him off your back and to stop worrying about you. This is how.
Maggie: But at the station? In front of your coworkers?
Clay: Yes. This way I can get all of my horny coworkers off your back too.
Maggie: For a fake relationship, you sure have the possessive boyfriend role down.
Clay: Just playing my part. Now play yours. Meet me here in an hour.
Maggie: Yes, sir. Just finished showering. You know, you may want to invest in a hair catcher. I’ve been showering here for a week now and there's nothing stopping my hair from going down the drain. I don’t want to clog your pipes.
Clay: Ugh, don’t tell me you just got out of the shower while I’m at work. Now I’m picturing you naked.
Maggie: Washing my hair isn’t all I did…
Clay: Fuck me.
Maggie: Sorry, can’t do that since you’re working another twenty-four.
Clay: GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW MAGGIE HOLLISTER.
Thirty minutes later I’m making the drive from Clay’s apartment to the fire station to ‘hard launch’ my new fake relationship with Clay.
The past week has been a whirlwind of sneaking around and crashing at Clay’s apartment every night after my shifts at the hospital or co-op.
It’s been nothing short of a dream. He’s shown me things I’d only seen in movies, pushing my limits until I’m left breathless and satiated, and providing me with multiple orgasms a night before we both collapse into sleep, covered in sweat and totally spent.
Truthfully, I’ve been running on fumes—McKenna caught me yawning in the dim light of the X-ray room more than once—but every sleepless night has been worth it and somehow, I’ve managed to compartmentalize my past feelings for him, keeping them separate from the pleasure I’m soaking up now.
Maybe that’s because, beyond the nights we spend together, we hardly see each other.
Clay’s been pulling double shifts at the fire station, sometimes staying overnight to help my dad who is currently short staffed. And when he’s not there, he’s training with Dallas for the upcoming tournament or helping his brothers at their ranch.
By the time I’m off work, I’m either training at the Pilates studio or working at the co-op. When night falls, we crawl into bed together, barely able to say a word before we’re all over each other.
On rare mornings, we eat breakfast in Clay's kitchen, him cooking and catch up on our days, but mostly, he’s out the door before I even wake up, off to Dallas’ farm to continue training.
As I pull into the fire station lot today, the crunch of gravel beneath my tires barely registers, my mind flashing back to just a month ago when I was here with my ex—how much has changed since then.
The moment I step out of the car, Clay comes storming toward me, all heat and intensity, like a summer storm rolling in.
“Hey—” I don’t even get the word out before his arms wrap around me, his lips crushing against mine in a kiss that’s mixed with passion and punishment.
His hands grip my butt, lifting me off the ground as I lose myself in the moment. I can’t help but wonder, how fake is this really to him? Because he’s acting a little too convincing. When he sets me back down, I’m breathless, my heart racing.
“What was that for?” I manage, trying to find my footing again.
“Committing to the show,” he says, his voice firm.
There’s something off in his tone, and I can’t shake the feeling that he's upset about something. He’s just come off a 24-hour shift, but before that, everything seemed fine. Now? I’m not so sure.
He’s pulling me inside and up to my dad’s office before I can overthink it. I hiss over his shoulder, “What’s your plan for this, big guy?”
He grunts like a caveman, and I can’t help but laugh. I’ve learned that Clay does this when his mind shifts into focused mode. He has a mission, telling my dad and his coworkers that we’re dating, and everything else in his peripheral has disappeared.
Maybe he’s tired of sneaking around and wants to get this over with, or maybe his siblings have been on his back again about training and he needs word of our “dating” arrangement to get out quickly.
Whatever it is, Clay is full on possessive neanderthal right now.
His hand raises to the door to knock but pauses.
I watch his expression change carefully as he's considering what to do next.
He definitely hasn’t thought this through.
I laugh, folding my arms over my chest. “So... you don’t have a plan?”
He shakes his head, snapping out of whatever stream of thought he was considering. “Don’t need one,” he shoots back as he glances my way with a wink and drops his fist, pounding firmly.
I roll my eyes, “Ok… your funeral,” I mouth. I don’t think my dad will be furious about us dating, but I do know he’ll have some choice words for Clay, given the age gap—and the fact that Clay works for him.
My dad’s booming voice calls us inside, and as we step in, Clay’s hand tightens around mine protectively. The room feels heavy with tension as my dad stands, his brows knitted together in a frown as his eyes dart between us.
“Maggie... I wasn’t expecting you today.” His gaze drops to our interlocked fingers, and it’s like he’s trying to piece everything together without asking any questions.
The silence stretches, thick and uncomfortable, as my dad’s gaze locks onto Clay’s. It’s like they’re having some kind of wordless conversation, a silent battle I’m not even a part of.
Finally, my dad exhales sharply, breaking the tension.
“I’m dating your daughter, sir,” Clay says, his voice steady and confident even though it’s the most obvious thing in the world considering our stance. I want to laugh, but the way he says it, as if he’s making a declaration and not asking for permission, has me quiet.
These men…
My dad steps around his desk and extends a hand to Clay. They shake wordlessly and I’m left standing there, my mouth gaping open.
Um…. What?
“Okay,” my dad says.
“Okay,” Clay responds.
My dad nods again, breaking the shake then fixes him with a stern look, “You hurt her, I hurt you.”
Clay laughs, “Got it, Chief.”
My dad delivers another nod, then turns to me, pulling me into a hug. I instinctively drop Clay’s hand, feeling a little lost in the moment. When we pull apart, Dad shifts his attention back to Clay, his expression firm but not angry.
“You mind giving me a moment to talk to my daughter alone, Mr. Cameron?”
Clay nods. “Find me when you’re done, Maggie?”
When the door closes behind Clay, I’m still frozen in front of my dad’s desk, utterly flabbergasted by the entire interaction I’ve just witnessed.
“Should I be bothered by the fact that went so smoothly? I feel like you’re eager to get me married off or something?”
He chuckles and slumps back into his office chair, his voice softening.
“That’s not the case at all. I just want to make sure you understand how precious you are and that you deserve someone who treats you right, who can offer you everything.
Your boyfriend from high school, was not that guy.
I know Clay will treat you right. He’s got the kind of work ethic I respect—and he knows I’d fire him if he didn’t.
” He cracks a smile, but then his tone shifts back to serious.
“But listen, I’m not in any rush to see you running off and getting serious with the boy. He’s a bit old for you, don’t you think?” It’s a mix of protective father and teasing concern, but underneath it all, I know he’s just making sure I’m thinking this through.
I shake my head and drop into the seat across from him, “He’s not that old dad.”
I’m not sure why I’m defending our fake relationship now but constantly being reminded of our age difference is exhausting.
He tents his fingers in front of him as he watches me carefully.
“He’s a good guy, sure, but Maggie, you’re an amazing young woman with lots to offer.
I’ve worried about you so much your whole life because I feel like you need that since you don’t have your mom here.
I’ve worried that you’ll let your diagnosis hold you back from receiving less than you deserve. ”
“My condition is managed. People live with lupus their whole lives.”
He nods, “I know that.”
“I’m going to be alright, daddy. Boyfriend or not, I can take care of myself.”
He smiles, “I know, but isn’t it nice to have someone else take care of you for once? To have someone else share the burden of life with you?”
I nod without a second thought, because it is nice to wake up and find a note by the coffee maker, breakfast already made, or cash left to grab something if I’m in a rush.
It’s comforting to know that someone’s waiting for me at home when I finish a long shift at the hospital.
And for once, I feel like a priority in a relationship—even if it’s only for pretend.
But there’s one thing I still haven’t shared with Clay. Something that could change all of that: my condition.
It’s always felt too personal, too raw, like a secret I’ve kept even from even my closest friends in college. It’s something that could change how people see me, and I’m not ready for that. I’m not ready for it to change the way that Clay looks at me.
Not now. Not yet.
I puff out a breath, “It is.”
He smiles and sits back before turning back to his computer, “Now go find your boyfriend.”
I shake my head, still feeling like the whole situation and my dad’s radical acceptance is surreal, as I step back into the station.
It doesn’t take long to find Clay in the main shop, where the fire trucks are parked. He’s shirtless, with only his worn jeans on, sprawled on a rollaway tucked underneath one of the pumpers, working on something with his tools.
I can’t help but admire him for a moment. His abs, which I’ve explored with my tongue more than once, are perfectly defined. The kind you can only get through hard work and a lifetime of working on a cattle ranch. And his jeans, tucked into his worn boots, fit snugly around his thick thighs.
Things are ending in a few weeks when I return to school, sure, but damn if I haven’t milked this fake relationship for all its worth. I lick my lips silently as I watch him work.
“You going to gawk or come over here,” he says, rolling out from under the truck and wiping his hands on a dirty rag.
“What are you doing?” I step towards him.
“Changing the oil on this truck.”
“Don’t they have mechanics for that?”
He shrugs, “I like doing it.”
And damn it if that doesn’t make my ovaries twist and flip.
Firefighter.
Cowboy.
Rancher.
Mechanic.
Underground MMA fighter.
Cooks Breakfast.
Eats pussy without being asked.
I swear there’s nothing that Clay can’t do when it comes to hard work and a little bit of patience.
“I’m on for another 24 tonight,” he says.
I nod.
“What time are you finished at the hospital?”
“I’m off tonight.”
He strokes the stubble on his jawline thoughtfully as he gazes up at me then stands. “I can’t sleep without you.”
My heart and mind stutter at his admission. I wasn’t expecting that to come out of his mouth and the way he stated it was so simply, without hesitation or shame.
“Wh-what?”
He shrugs. “I’m used to sleeping next to you now. I didn’t get any sleep at the station last night.”
“Ok…”
“Meet me here around eight? Your dad’s off work tonight so I’m the chief in command over these assholes.”
“Will they care if I’m sleeping here with you?”
He shrugs. “The Chief has his own private bedroom. Plus, what are they going to say to me? I’m sleeping with the chief’s daughter?” He winks, grabs my waist, and then pulls me in for another kiss.