7. Clint
SEVEN
CLINT
The wedding was tomorrow.
I’d done my job, and I’d done it damned well.
Over the past couple of weeks, I’d managed to orchestrate half a dozen outings that could easily be interpreted as dates by anyone who’d seen Austen and me together. I’d been by Plot Twist almost every day with her favorite tea or a treat from Pie Hard. We’d grabbed lunch at Doc Holliday’s. We’d gone out to see the latest action flick at our three-screen movie theater. The whole time we’d been openly flirty and affectionate, as per the plan. No one had outright asked either of us if we were dating, but I knew people were talking, which had been the point. When we made our “debut” as a couple, no one would be surprised.
But that wasn’t why I was climbing the steps to Austen’s apartment over the shop, my hands laden with bags of groceries. I wanted the chance to hang out with her one on one, without the burden of performing for others. Not that I’d been performing at all, but I wasn’t sure if she had been. I wanted to gauge how much she’d been acting and how much was real. Because that would determine how I’d proceed after tomorrow. If our deal was done after her cousin’s “I do,” or if this was a springboard into the things I’d been dreaming of for longer than I wanted to admit.
Shifting my hold on the bags, I rapped on her door. If I’d timed things correctly, she’d been home long enough to feed her monster of a cat but not make it all the way to pajamaficated. Not that I had a problem with pajamas, but I wanted her to be comfortable.
In less than a minute, the door swung open. I’d pegged it right. She wore yoga pants and a camisole, with a comfy cardigan over the top. Her feet were bare, and her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail. Her face lit up with surprise and, I hoped, pleasure as she spotted me on the landing. “Hey! Did we have plans I forgot about?”
“No formal ones. But I thought we could stay in for the night.” I lifted the bags. “I promise to feed you.”
Stepping back, she opened the door wider. “I have zero objection to that. Where did you grab takeout from?”
“No takeout. I’m cooking for you.”
Her brows shot up. “You cook?”
I fixed her with a haughty stare. “I’ll have you know I’m quite capable in the kitchen.”
Her lips pressed together to hold in a grin. “By all means, let me not impede your efforts to prove it.”
I moved past her into the galley-style kitchen and began to unload my supplies, starting with a bottle of wine. “Have a corkscrew?”
“Drawer to the left of the sink.”
I fished it out and did the honors. “Sit,” I ordered.
She wrapped her cardigan a little more tightly around herself and slid onto one of the barstools. With a regal incline of her head, she accepted the glass I gave her. “Thank you, garcon.”
I grabbed a cutting board and began to unload the rest of my grocery haul. “So, how was your day?”
“Long, but entertaining. This woman came in after lunch looking for a specific book. ‘Forced proximity trope. It’s got a blue cover, and I think there’s a man on it?’ Which describes basically a third of the books in the entire romance section. But before I can even start to ask more questions to narrow down what she was trying to find, Cliff stands up from his sunbeam, gives a big ol’ stretch, and proceeds to prowl right over to the shelf to paw at a particular title from two years ago that was totally mis-shelved. Damned thing was exactly what the lady was looking for!”
“Seriously?”
Austen lifted her palm. “Hand to God. So she said, anyway. She was so impressed, she bought three more books and wants to feature Cliff on her BookTok channel as ‘The Romance-Recommending Cat.’ I swear that animal knows the inventory better than I do sometimes.”
I glanced over to where the massive gray tabby polydactyl was grooming one of his six-toed white paws and staring at me with big, unblinking golden eyes. “I always feel like he’s judging me.”
“He judges everybody. I’m tolerated because I’m the provider of food and catnip.”
“I brought you food and wine. What does that make me?”
“The hero who saved me from a freezer burrito.”
“I can work with that.” I put on a pot of water to boil for pasta and began chopping vegetables.
“So, how was your day?”
“It was… good. Mom and Dad are letting me get my feet back under me before I’m formally scheduled for anything. Which is nice. It’s not quite so much whiplash going back to civilian life that way. I’ve mostly been helping out at the store, but I’m about ready to dip my toe back into normal. I’ve got a few guide jobs on the books for next week.”
“Easing back in seems smart. How are Kellan and Gabe?”
I drizzled oil into a skillet. “Gabe’s been throwing himself into repairing Felicity’s house, which I’m sure you’ve had an earful about.”
“Oh, the house was a hot mess from that burst pipe. He’s not going to get that done anytime soon.” She smiled to herself.
“Why do you look so pleased by that?”
“Because I’m expecting nature to take its course with those two.”
I added ginger and garlic to the oil. “Friendly wager?”
“On when, not if.”
“You’re on. I say they give in by the end of the month.”
Austen shook her head. “The tougher they are, the harder they fall. I give it less than two weeks.”
We toasted to seal the deal, and I turned back to add the pile of veggies to the skillet.
“What about Kellan? He seems to be leaping head-first now that he’s back. I heard he and Tate are engaged.”
“I also heard that, though I haven’t actually talked to him about it. It seems kinda fast to me, but if they’re happy, more power to them. Life is too short to waste time out of fear. We all learned that out there on this tour.”
“Scary lesson.”
“You’re telling me.” I jerked my shoulders in a shrug. “Anyway, every day gets a little easier. It just takes time to adjust. And, honestly, having something else to focus on has been good. So thanks for that.”
“Happy to oblige. Though I’d say I’m getting the better end of this deal.” She eyed the plate of shrimp lo mien I slid in front of her. “This looks amazing.”
“Eat up. You’ll need your strength for part two of the evening.”
She twirled a fork in the pasta and smirked. “And what would that be?”
“Dancing lessons.”
The smirk faded into distress. “Clint, I’m a terrible dancer.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Your feet are going to regret it.”
“You trusted me for bowling and look how that turned out. You got two strikes and three spares by the end of the night.”
“Okay fine. It’s your funeral.”
Conversation turned to other things as we ate. I liked how we never seemed to have a lull in things to talk about, and even if we lapsed into silence for a bit, it wasn’t awkward. She was easy to be with. Intelligent, entertaining, and not demanding. I loved how unapologetically her she was. Brainy and more than a little quirky.
The daughter of a cop and a librarian, she was an inveterate bookworm, interested in everything under the sun, with a particular pet interest in mysteries and police procedurals. She and her dad were known to pick apart all the things authors got wrong in their books about actual procedure. I think her dad had kind of hoped she’d follow in his footsteps. But with a name like Austen Christie MacAvoy, it had been inevitable that she’d have a career somehow related to books. That she’d managed to make Plot Twist such a central part of Huckleberry Creek community life was a testament to her creativity and ingenuity.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
I blinked, realizing that I’d been staring at her. “I was just thinking about musical choices. Are you ready for dance lessons?”
Austen scowled. “I’m telling you, this is a terrible idea.”
“It’s a great idea. Dancing is totally expected at the reception. All you have to do is follow my lead.”
We cleared the dishes, and I connected my phone to her Bluetooth speaker, queuing up the playlist I’d put together for precisely this purpose. As Justin Timberlake began to rock out of the speaker, I started to move my hips.
“We’re dancing to the theme song from Trolls? ”
“Shut up, it’s a good song.” Deliberately hamming it up, I started to sing along, dancing my way toward her. Goofy as hell? Yes. But also, I had rhythm, and I knew it. I also knew if I got her to laugh, she’d loosen up.
With some fancy footwork, I spun and held out a hand for hers. With a roll of her eyes, she laid her hand in mine. Gripping tight, I tugged. Momentum spun her into me, and there was that laugh. I pressed a hand to small of her back, urging her close. Her free arm slid up to my shoulder, and she fell into easy step with me. When I felt her match the rhythm, I used my bigger bulk to move us in some more complicated patterns before spinning her out and back again.
Austen whooped, her brown eyes sparkling as she settled back into my embrace. “You’re really good at this.”
“You do not, in fact, suck. Perhaps you should consider that none of your previous dance partners could actually lead.”
Her fingers toyed with the hair at my nape as she smiled up at me. “I don’t hate that interpretation.”
Over the next half hour, I took her through her paces, trying more and more challenging maneuvers. Through it all, we touched and flirted, and I didn’t think any of it was practice. I was so aware of every inch of her body pressed to mine. When the music shifted to Ed Sheeran’s “Thinking Out Loud”, I pulled her closer and swayed, singing quietly along, my cheek pressed to her temple.
She sighed, nestling against me, feeling exactly right in my arms. I didn’t know how we’d never done this before. Well, yeah, I knew. But we weren’t kids anymore, and I didn’t think she was indifferent to me.
As the song moved into the final stretch, Austen tipped her head back to look up at me. “I never would’ve pegged you for an Ed Sheeran fan.”
“I’m full of surprises.” I stared down at her, feeling the weight of the music and the lyrics settle over us, and wondered if I had the courage to spring one more surprise on her.
Her gaze dropped to my mouth.
Oh, hell yeah.
I closed the distance by a fraction of an inch.
A horrific feline shriek and crash interrupted the moment. We both jolted as Cliffhanger vaulted off the counter, knocking the speaker to the floor in the process.
“Cliff! Naughty boy!” Austen pulled away to pick up the speaker, and the spell was broken.
“Well, I think we’re in good shape for tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I think so.” She set the now dented speaker back on the counter. “I really appreciate you doing all this for me. It’s taken a load off my mind not to have to stress about it. And beyond all that, it’s just been fun to have you back and hang out.”
“Same.” I pocketed my phone and barely resisted reaching for her again. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Austen.”
I didn’t miss the faint look of disappointment in her eyes as I turned toward the door. For half a second, I considered turning back. Simply grabbing her and backing her up against the nearest wall to lay claim to her mouth the way that I wanted. But she deserved more than that. She deserved romance. And I was going to deliver. We just had to get through this wedding first.