Chapter 27 – Maggie
“I can’t believe you’re dating Clay Cameron. Hot cowboy. Chiseled firefighter. Pussy whisperer.” Lucy flops onto my bed with a dramatic sigh as I slip into my silk, fitted, pale yellow dress for Savannah’s wedding that’s in only an hour.
It’s one of my favorite dresses, a go-to when I need something special to wear, and always reminds me of my mother. Though I hardly remember her now, my dad has always told me that her favorite color was yellow. Just like the dandelions and daffodils that cover Texas during the warm summer days.
“Pussy whisperer? Really?”
She nods, “That’s what I heard from Kelly at work. She said that when they slept together three years ago, the orgasm was so good that she’s never had one like it since.”
I shake my head, because that’s the last thing I want to hear before I go on a date with Clay to his ex-girlfriend’s wedding. I wonder if Savannah’s had an orgasm as good as the one’s that Clay surely delivered her since she left him.
I shake my head again as if I can clear that fucked up thought from my mind. But of course, now I’m thinking about how this whole thing is painfully temporary and there’s a chance I’ll never have an orgasm like Clay’s again with someone else.
Shit. What if my future husband isn’t this good at sex?!
I roll my eyes at myself.
I’m being ridiculous.
I perch on the edge of my bed to tug on my navy-blue wedges that match the flowers in my dress.
“Clay said the wedding party is wearing pink, and he’s going with navy blue, but he didn’t care what I wore tonight. Does this look okay?” I stand and give a little twirl.
The dress is pale yellow, midi-length, with navy blue flowers on the bodice, hugging me exactly right.
I’ve paired it with matching wedges, and my curls have been blown out into loose waves, half pinned up and secured with faux diamond encrusted barrettes.
My makeup is natural, soft neutral tones, and I’m wearing the simple diamond earrings my dad gave me for my eighteenth birthday.
I know Clay said it didn’t matter what I wore tonight, that he’d like me in anything, but I can’t help but feel like it matters a little considering it’s his ex’s wedding.
“Um… you definitely don’t look like you’re a part of the wedding party. You look incredible. Way hotter than any bridesmaid I've ever seen.”
I smile at my friend who’s grinning at me like a fool.
“It’s the Clay Cameron effect. You’re glowing,” she says giving a thumbs up in approval.
“I’m scared to ask what the Clay Cameron effect is.”
She stands and brushes imaginary lint from her jeans. “After Kelly got with Clay, she got promoted at work. To senior accountant.”
“Are you saying I’m going to get offered a job at the hospital once Clay and I break up?”
Once Clay and I break up…
The words leave my lips before I can think about it and verbalizing them causes a pain to shoot through my heart.
It’s inevitable.
Lucy shrugs before continuing, “And after Becky and Clay hooked up, she got married. Married, Maggie. She’s only twenty-seven years old and knew the next guy for only one month before getting engaged!”
I swallow the lump that’s now fully formed in my throat. Was this all I would be relegated to in this small town once Clay and I announce our fake break up from our fake relationship?
Who was Maggie Hollister before she dated Clay Cameron?
the people in our small town would reminisce.
Shy, agreeable, sweet, inexperienced, practically still a virgin!
After Clay Cameron fucked her silly and then left her, she got a big girl job, got engaged, married with three kids and a white picket fence!
I shiver, hating the way that sounds in my head. The Clay Cameron effect isn’t something I wanted happening to me unless it includes Clay.
That thought drops into my consciousness for only a moment before I’m bending over, feeling nauseous and gasping for air.
“Shit, are you alright, Maggie?” Lucy’s by my side now, a tender hand pressed into my spine.
“Yea, yea, I just feel a little... dizzy.” I glance down at my feet, noticing a bit of swelling in my ankles and the familiar ache in my joints. “Maybe I should wear flats instead of wedges. I think these might be too tight.”
“No way, you need the extra height if you don’t want to look ridiculous dancing with Clay all night. Plus, they make your calves look insanely toned,” Lucy responds.
Ok, yeah, I guess she’s right.
I’m sure I’m just overreacting to the emotions of what’s happening between Clay and me.
It’s confusing, honestly, just like Clay is to me most days.
This is just for fun, for show, I remind myself.
My dad has been the happiest I’ve seen him in years since I told him I was dating Clay.
If this brings him some peace while I’m home, then so be it.
And if it helps Clay with his training and his family getting off his back, then I’m doing him a favor too.
This is almost for charity!
Yep, sure, that's what I'll tell myself.
Thirty minutes later, a glass of ice water, and my immunosuppressive medication taken, I’m on my way to Clay’s apartment. He’d offered to pick me up, but I knew I needed the time alone in the car to give myself a pep talk—why this was all fine.
Totally fine.
I was about to attend his ex-girlfriend’s wedding, with my dad watching, alongside a guy much older than me who’d been with the bride for close to a decade.
They had history. Maybe not anymore, but at one time, he’d probably considered what it’d be like marrying her. Now he’s going to watch her marry the new love of her life while she’s pregnant with twins.
No big deal, right?
Yea, this is totally fucking fine.
I don’t even get a chance to knock on his apartment door before it flies open and Clay’s pulling me into his chest.
“Jeez, you scared me,” I laugh, though I’m instantly hit by how good he smells.
And damn, he looks just as good too—tall, beard trimmed, in a perfectly tailored navy-blue suit with a matching tie and crisp white button-up.
His hair is damp like he's just gotten out of the shower and his cologne is a deliciously musky and woodsy scent I've begun associating with him.
It’s starting to annoy me how put together he always is, while I feel like a total mess inside around him—completely out of control, like a tornado of confusion fumbling through life, trying to keep my heart and mind separated.
He steps back, his eyes sweeping over me in that way only he can, making me feel beautiful and vulnerable with just one searing look.
“You’re beautiful. Wow.”
I smile playfully, “You look pretty good yourself, Mr. Cameron.”
He shakes his head, “Mr. Cameron is my dad, not me, though I like when you say, yes sir, to me.”
I shiver as he presses his hand flat on my lower back, guiding me out towards his truck. “Come on, let’s get out of here before I change my mind and spend the evening sucking on your pussy instead.”
“Yes sir. So romantic,” I tease as he guides me out to his truck.
Fifteen minutes later, we’re pulling up to the venue that's located just a few miles outside of our small town. It’s a beautiful, old manor and one of the few historic landmarks in Lonestar Junction.
The ceremony is set to take place outside on the plush, green lawn and the reception is planned for inside of the manor, which has been recently renovated into a building with glass windows giving it a much more modern flare.
Soft, pink flowers dot the aisle leading up to rows of folding white chairs all pointed in the direction of a beautiful heart shaped arch covered in vines.
“It’s breathtaking,” I whisper to Clay, though he’s not even looking at the venue—his eyes are fixed on me, his grip tight on my waist as we approach the group gathered in white folding chairs on the lawn.
“I hadn’t noticed,” he says, his voice low.
I nudge him playfully, but when our eyes meet, I realize he’s more nervous about all of this than he’s letting on. I wonder if this wedding stirs any sadness or disappointment in him.
Ever blunt, I blurt out my thoughts as we take our seats on the bride’s side, “Are you uncomfortable?”
His brows furrow. “Are you uncomfortable?”
“No, not really. My dad and your siblings know about us now. I couldn’t care less what anyone else in this town thinks. Plus, this is all just for show, right?”
He presses his lips into a thin line and nods curtly. “I’m not uncomfortable. I’m happy for Savannah, and I’m with you. How could I be uncomfortable when I’m with you?”
I turn my face, not wanting him to see the way his words affect me as I settle into my chair, scanning the crowd.
Clay does that to me. Says something so incredibly sweet and shocking and then doesn’t elaborate.
Leaves it hanging between us thickly like it could possibly mean something more.
It confuses me, like most things with him.
I scan the group of people now seated again.
There are a lot of familiar faces from town, mostly older.
A few people cast curious glances our way, but every time I catch one, Clay squeezes my hand and gives me a reassuring smirk.
It feels natural—maybe too natural. But that’s how it’s always been with us, dangerously close to no longer pretending. I wonder if he feels it too, sometimes.
The music begins to play gently, and the crowd stands as a radiant Savannah begins her walk down the aisle.
Clay towers behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist and holding me tightly to his front.
I revel in the feel of his big arms holding me so protectively and get lost in the tender moment where Savannah's gaze first meets her grooms.
She looks amazing.
Just like always, she radiates beauty, her round, pregnant belly, and glowing skin only adding to it.
Maybe if I were older, or less confident, I’d feel a pang of jealousy—especially after what Lucy told me about Clay and the countless women he’s slept with.
But there’s a quiet confidence Clay has instilled in me since then.
He’s made me realize that I’m not defined by the man I’m with.
I’m strong, resilient, and beautiful all on my own.
The ceremony continues, and as we take our seats, I’m surprised when tears start to fill my eyes.
Savannah and Devin look incredible together and knowing they’re about to bring two new lives into the world fills me with genuine happiness for her.
Maybe this is what people mean by the Clay Cameron effect.
Maybe it’s something I can look forward to one day.
I know I’m young, but growing up without a mom has made me think often about the kind of mother I want to be.
I can’t wait to have kids of my own and build the relationship I missed out on with them.
As the reception moves inside the all glass manor, Savannah and Devin share their first dance, and dinner is served.
The food is good, and I scarf it down too quickly after not eating all day.
The ache in my stomach disappears, swapping places with the ache in my joints.
I rub my wrists together, trying to get some relief from the persistent symptoms of my condition.
Clay’s hand rests on my bare thigh under the table, his fingers gently stroking my skin, making it hard to focus on anything else and soon, the pain in my joints dissipates.
Savannah and Devin move towards the dance floor for their second dance at the same time that Clay’s leaning over, whispering in my ear, “I can’t be here anymore,” he murmurs.
“What’s wrong?”
“We showed up together, ate the food she paid for, and everyone’s seen us. But all I can think about is how tight my cock is in these ridiculous suit pants and how badly I want to rip that dress off you.”
I laugh, but it comes out more like a breathy ′ha’ as I try to maintain my composure.
“Would you be disappointed if we left now?” he asks.
“Disappointed?” I pause, considering my words carefully, but the truth spills out. “I could never be disappointed when it comes to you.”
His eyes ignite with heat as he pushes back from the table, grabs my hand, and pulls me out of the building toward his truck. A few people notice us leaving during Savannah’s dance, their gazes lingering, but it’s Jovie’s eyes that follow me the closest.
She flashes me a knowing smile and a wink, and I can’t help but wonder how much she really knows—and what she thinks about her youngest brother-in-law dating me.