12. Kieran
Chapter 12
Kieran
The next time Mom wanted to send me on a fool’s errand, I was going to ask her to choose something lighter than a solid stone antique birdbath. She could have just asked me to take Clayton somewhere instead of this elaborate ruse to get him out of the house. Mom was a worrier, though, and she’d taken to Clayton as if he were one of her own sons. Clayton was getting around better than he used to, but he was still in no shape to help lift the birdbath, so he was sitting in the truck, staring out at the scenery.
Charles, the man selling the birdbath for his grandfather, finished strapping the base into the box of my truck. He wiped his hands on the sides of his jeans. “There, that ought to do it.”
“Thanks for the help loading that thing. I couldn’t have done it on my own.”
Charles laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I hope you have help on the other end unloading it.”
“I’ll make my brother come help. Before I go, we wanted to stop for lunch. What’s good around here?”
“You’ll want to stop by The Country Kitchen. If you’re heading back the way you came, it’s right off the main drag, you can’t miss it. If you hit the gas station, you’ve gone too far. Everything there is good, but if you have a sweet tooth, you need to get the chocolate pie. ”
“Thanks.” I shook Charles’s hand. “We have a long drive ahead and we still need lunch, so we need to get going.”
“Right. Travel safe.” Charles tucked his hands in his pockets and walked slowly back toward the house.
I climbed into the truck and turned the key. “Charles said there’s a good place to grab lunch on the way out of town.”
“Charles was super into you,” Clayton quipped as he fastened his seatbelt.
“I—what?” I went over the interaction in my head, but saw no spark of interest there from Charles. “I think you’re mistaken.”
“I think you’re too straight to notice when a dude is checking you out.”
Unable to stop myself, I barked out a laugh. “I’m not straight. I am, however, a clueless bisexual and it wouldn’t be the first time I missed a cue like that.”
My comment stunned Clayton into silence. I knew he wasn’t a homophobe, what with his best friend being gay. He seemed genuinely pleased about Archer’s happiness in his relationship with Shane.
“You’re bi?”
“Mom had three sons and none of us are straight. Shane is gay. I’m bi, and Brodie’s motto is hearts before parts.”
Clayton snorted. “How romantic.”
“What about you?” I chalked the sudden urge to know where Clayton fell on the Kinsey scale up to the fact that I’d shared about my bisexuality. And my cluelessness when people of any gender were flirting with me.
“Me? Oh, gay. Girls are friends not food.” Clayton paused, looking horror-stricken. “I did not just say that.”
“Oh, but you did.” I laughed, both at what Clayton said and the look on his face when he realized it. When Clayton loosened up a little, he wasn’t bad to be around. For days now, I’d tried to hold on to my old animosity for him, but it had turned to sand that slipped through my fingers. I could grasp it for a short time, but couldn’t hold on to enough of it to matter.
“Before all this hit the fan, were you seeing anyone?” I asked in case there was someone he’d wanted to get in touch with, I told myself. It had nothing to do with the little hot rock of jealousy burning away inside me, the one that I ignored.
“Ha. No,” Clayton answered as though the idea of it was absurd. “There was a guy a long time ago, but we met when Archer and I were trying to get the business off the ground and he didn’t like not being my top priority all the time, so I cut him loose.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What about you? I have a hard time believing that you’re single.”
“Well, believe it. The last serious relationship I had ended long before Shane won the lottery. She wanted different things. You know, the big house, the ten kids. A farm. That’s not the life I wanted. I had a couple short-term things. One with a firefighter, but he was in the closet, so that didn’t go anywhere.”
“Is that the reason you haven’t dated since?”
I shrugged. “I sort of see my life as being divided by that event, you know. Before the money and after the money. After he won, he suddenly had a whole host of people who wanted to be his friend. And by proxy, so did I. It was easier to just stick with the small circle of people I was already comfortable with than to risk branching out.”
Without realizing it, we’d passed the restaurant I’d intended to stop at. I turned around at the gas station and headed back.
“We could’ve kept going.”
Clayton was forever acting like his presence was an inconvenience. Some of that might be because of the way I’d treated him when he was first dropped into my life. I wasn’t proud of the fact that I’d judged him on his past and on the opinions of other people and not given him a chance from the start.
“I just lugged around a two thousand pound birdbath. I’m starving.”
“It was not two thousand pounds.”
“It wasn’t exactly made of feathers.”
The parking lot was packed, forcing me to choose a spot around the side of the building. “I can get a couple things to go if you didn’t want to eat in.”
Clayton rolled his eyes and unbuckled his seatbelt. “I could stretch my legs. Besides, if we’re back too soon, your mom will be mad at us for rushing our little outing. Who knows where she’ll send us next.”
“The moon. I hear they’re selling moon dust. Pick up only.”
Clayton turned his head and looked at me, eyes wide with shock.
“Did you just make a joke?”
“Well, it wasn’t a cake.”
Clayton blinked at me. “Two in a row. I’m impressed.”
I fell into step next to him and we headed for the restaurant. “I’d go for three, but I wouldn’t want to hurt myself.”
Clayton smiled and shook his head. “Have you been funny this whole time?”
“It comes and goes. Mostly I think I’m a grumpy old man trapped in a younger, hotter body.” Hotter body? Where did that come from?
Though I tried not to look at Clayton for his reaction, I didn’t miss the slash of color that had risen in his cheeks. It was nothing, I told myself. It was exertion from the long walk into the restaurant. It definitely wasn’t Clayton and me flirting. And he absolutely was not interested in me. And I wasn’t interested in him. I was just… invested in the outcome of his current situation because I’d been forced to care .
That tasted like the lie it was.
I cared about Clayton despite my intentions not to. Over the past weeks, I’d somehow let go of my original animosity. Instead of a thieving, money-grubbing, gambling addict, I saw a man who was lost. According to my mom, Clayton had practically broken out in hives when he’d asked for bus fare. That either made him a brilliant con man, or he was hell bent on changing.
We found a seat in the busy restaurant. The waitress took our drink order and both Clayton and I decided to get the special of the day. Our earlier flirting, if that’s what it had been, fizzled out and I couldn’t decide if I was glad or disappointed. It was probably for the best. Nothing could happen between us. Not only was he not in a position to be seeing anyone, but Shane would chop my nuts off if I slept with the enemy. Because while my feelings toward Clayton had softened, Shane’s hadn’t.
It was understandable, to a point, that Shane would harbor ill will for Clayton, even though their interactions had been minimal. He was deeply in love with Archer and willing to do whatever it took to make him happy. And apparently that included helping out Archer’s former best friend, even if Shane hated him.
“So the cast comes off next week,” Clayton said as he picked at the last few bites of his food.
“You don’t look happy about that.”
He shrugged. “I keep having dreams that my hand doesn’t work.”
“I’m sure it will be fine. Has the doctor given any indication about the use of your hand after?”
“They say it should be fine, but because my arm took longer to heal than my leg, I guess I’m nervous about it.” Clayton pushed his empty plate to the side and grabbed his iced tea. “Sorry, I should save this for my therapist. ”
“You don’t have to do that.”
He met my gaze with a furrowed brow. “Do what?”
“Treat yourself like a burden. It’s okay if you want to talk to me about stuff.”
Clayton took a slow sip of his drink. It was easy to see the skepticism in his eyes and the way he held himself like he was waiting for the ax to fall. It was the same look he’d had for weeks. Ever since I met him, he’d walked on eggshells. Until earlier when we’d been joking around. That was the most relaxed and open I’d seen him.
Secretly hoping for more of that man instead of the wary, downtrodden one sitting across from me, I paid for the food. Digging my keys out of my pocket, we left the restaurant and headed around the side of the building.
“Um, Kieran? Where’s the truck?”
Scanning the parking lot, my stomach dropped.
“I —” I looked around again, turning in a slow circle as if I’d somehow missed the sight of my own truck or walked past it somehow. “I parked right there.”
There was no truck around the side of the building. “You’ve got to be shitting me. Someone stole my truck. While we were fucking eating.”
“They probably wanted that birdbath.” Clayton winced. “Sorry, that was stupid.”
“I hope they drop it on their feet.” I pulled my phone out and called the cops after a quick google search gave me the non-emergency line. Despite the fact that I really loved my truck, it was hardly worth a call to 9-1-1.
I paced around the parking lot while I waited for the cops to arrive. Clayton made me call my mom and tell her what happened so she wouldn’t worry when we didn’t arrive back home on time.
By the time the officer took my statement and a description of my truck, I was in no mood to figure out how I was going to get us home and I could tell that Clayton’s energy was flagging.
“Where’s the nearest hotel?” I asked the officer, a young guy who looked like he’d been dropped in this little town fresh out of the academy.
“There’s one just around the corner. It might be pretty full up, though. The garlic festival starts tomorrow and folks come from all over.”
“We’ll take our chances, thanks. Just point us in the right direction.”
“I’ll do you one better and give you two a lift. Your boyfriend looks like he’s about to fall over.”
Clayton linked his good arm through mine. “Yes, dear, let’s get a ride from the lovely policeman.”
Fully aware that he was joking around and trying to lighten the mood, I played into it. Because why not? I was tired and grumpy, but that didn’t mean I had to take it out on Clayton. He’d been a trooper through the whole ordeal this afternoon, but he was looking pale and barely on his feet.
“Looks like we’re staying the night, dear.” I helped Clayton to the police car and insisted he take the front seat, leaving me to sit in the back. The hotel really was just around the corner and the officer hopped out to open the back door to let me out of the back.
The hotel was clean and smelled like lemon furniture polish. A woman with a bun of an impressive size sat behind the counter. “What can I do for you?”
“We need rooms for the night. Maybe two. I don’t know. My truck was stolen and we’re stranded for the time being. ”
“Oh, dear.” The girl with the name tag that read Macy clicked away on her keyboard. “The festival starts tomorrow so everything is full. I have… I have one room.”
“We’ll take it,” I said. The cop already thought we were boyfriends and I hadn’t corrected him. Sharing a room wasn’t a big deal. It was either that or call Shane to come get us. I pulled out my credit card and handed it over. A few minutes later, with a room key in hand, Clayton and I made our way over to the elevator. The building only had two floors, but he wasn’t in any shape to take the stairs.
“Does this whole stolen truck, one room at the hotel adventure make you want to rethink your road trip plans?” Clayton asked.
“Never let a little thing like a stolen truck get you down.” Unlocking the door to the room, I stepped through and held it open for Clayton. “I’ll take the couch.”
“That’ll be a neat trick,” Clayton said, motioning to the room where a queen-size bed sat.
There was a desk and a chair, and instead of a couch, a single dark-green wingback chair sat staring at me. Taunting me.
“The floor, then.” It was going to be a long night.
“We’re both adults, Kieran. We can share a bed.”
I wanted him to say my name again. Sharing a bed was going to be a problem, but not for the reasons he was thinking. Despite my best efforts to ignore it, an attraction had sneaked up on me. Clayton had stopped being an annoyance in my life and instead he’d turned into… a friend? Were we friends?
Well, at the very least, we were two adults who were apparently going to share a bed.