Chapter 4
Clayton
A crack of thunder woke me up.
Lightning flashed through the curtains, and I lay there staring at the ceiling while Rachel shivered beside me.
The space heater was doing its best, but its best wasn’t much against an Ozark cold snap with no backup. My only fireplace was in the living room, and I mentally put installing a woodstove at the top of my to-do list. As soon as I found a couple thousand dollars to throw at that project.
I did some fast math. I could do the work myself, which would save money, but the materials wouldn’t be free.
Even without the cost of installation, it would still run me about 5K, which was 5K higher than what was in my bank account right now.
Rachel made a small sound in her sleep, something between a whimper and a sigh, and her whole body trembled under the blankets.
Everything in me yearned to warm her up, even though I knew I should stay on my side of the bed.
Not just because she was a paying guest in my home and not a woman who’d followed me back after a night of flirting. But also because she was not my kind of woman.
Rachel’s blood probably only pumped when she saw an enticing spreadsheet. She was the kind of woman who probably had a color-coded system for her sock drawer. And, on top of that, she was a big-city woman, and I was most definitely a small-town kind of guy.
What the fuck. Am I planning our wedding here?
It wasn’t my fault that my body had gone rogue and wanted to fuck her. But it’s not like I was trying to catch her for good.
I wonder what it would be like to sleep with a woman like her?
I didn’t really have a type, but my previous girlfriends had all been born and raised right here on Red Oak Mountain.
They were soft, tender women with sweet dispositions.
The only master’s degree they had was in batting their lashes at a man.
And that training started early, so it was in their DNA.
Rachel, from what little I knew of her, didn’t have anything in common with the women of Red Oak Mountain, except I suspected she knew how to wield her sex appeal as a weapon, just like they did.
I’d caught a glance inside her luggage when she’d started unpacking last night. She had all her things carefully encapsulated in matching bags inside a tiny carry-on travel bag. What kind of woman does that? One who thinks it’s a priority to own matching travel organizers.
That, coupled with the impractical heels and topped off by the fancy nails, told me everything I needed to know. Rachel was accustomed to a certain lifestyle that was way above my paygrade.
Dating a woman like her would be expensive.
But she was cold, and I knew exactly how to fix it.
I got up quietly and grabbed the extra blankets from the cedar chest at the foot of the bed, the ones my mom had quilted years ago when she still had the sharp eyes needed for it.
I layered them over Rachel, studying the loose strands that had escaped from that tight bun she’d had it in earlier.
She looked softer like this. Less like a walking corporate policy manual and more like a woman who’d had a really long day.
The blankets helped, but not enough. She was still trembling in her sleep.
I climbed back into bed and shifted toward the center of the mattress, close enough that I could feel the cold radiating off her even through the layers between us. Then I slid my arm across her waist, keeping the blankets between us like a force field.
Rachel went completely still.
For a long moment neither of us moved, and I wondered if I’d just made the biggest mistake of my life. I could see the headlines and they wouldn’t be good. Rental Host Accosts Beautiful Tenant In Her Sleep.
Then she exhaled slowly and eased back against me, her body fitting against mine like she’d been designed to slot into that exact space.
She wiggled until the blanket between us got jostled and then it was just us. My chest pressed against her back. My thigh aligned with hers through the quilts.
I kept my hips angled away, which took more self-control than I wanted to admit because every instinct I had was screaming at me to pull her closer and feel all of her against all of me.
The wind howled outside, rattling the windows in their frames, but inside the cocoon of blankets, the air was starting to warm. I could smell her shampoo, something floral and clean that didn’t belong in my rugged bedroom, and underneath that, the scent of her skin.
Why was I reacting like this? I’d gone years without wanting a woman in my bed.
Years of telling myself I was better off alone, that relationships were just another project destined to fall apart.
Michelle had made that clear enough when she’d walked out.
But Rachel wasn’t Michelle. Rachel was a stranger who’d shown up on my doorstep looking like a drowned kitten. And somehow, in the span of a few hours, she’d gotten under my skin in ways I couldn’t explain.
I was thinking with my cock. That was all this was.
Simple biology.
She was soft and warm and female, and I’d been celibate long enough that my body was staging a rebellion against my common sense.
Except it wasn’t just physical. When she’d knocked on my door in the middle of the night, admitting she needed help, I’d felt something shift in my chest that had nothing to do with lust. That was the part I was really afraid of. Not sleeping with this woman, but what might happen afterward?
I was in trouble.
Rachel’s breathing evened out, her shivers finally subsiding as my warmth seeped into her.
I lay there listening to the storm and trying not to think about how right she felt in my arms as my cock throbbed hungrily, begging me to shift forward just a couple inches so it could lock in place against her ass.
It told me that it knew how to really warm her up.
But I was in charge here. I wasn’t a kid anymore who jumped every time a pretty woman caught my eye.
And she worked for HomeGuard Insurance. Tomorrow or the next day she’d be out at Mrs. Andretti’s house, and I knew all my sweet feelings towards this woman would evaporate then.
Light filtered through the curtains as I woke up, and for a moment I didn’t understand why I felt so good.
Then I registered the woman in my arms, her back against my chest, my cock pressed hungrily against her ass, gently grinding it with soft pulses of my hips.
What the fuck?
That’s when everything came rushing back.
At some point during the night, we’d shifted even closer, and now there was nothing between us but thin cotton and whatever remained of my self-control.
I kept holding her, but I pulled my hips back so my cock was no longer intruding on her luscious ass.
Her hair had come loose from its bun, dark strands fanning across my pillow in wild waves that looked nothing like the sleek, professional style she’d arrived with. I liked it better this way. Messy. Real. Like she’d let her guard down without meaning to.
I wonder what she was like as a kid.
Had she always been so serious? Or had there been a time when she’d run barefoot through summer grass, chasing fireflies and making up stories about dragons in the clouds?
The thought made me smile, which surprised me because I didn’t smile much these days.
I’d grown up wild in these mountains, spending whole days in the woods with nothing but a stick for a sword and my imagination for company.
My dad used to say I could entertain myself with a rock and a piece of string, and he wasn’t wrong. We hadn’t had money for fancy toys, but I’d never felt like I was missing anything.
The familiar ache settled in my chest, the one that showed up whenever I let myself think about him.
He’d been gone for three years now, and it still caught me off guard sometimes. He’d passed right before Michelle left, and for a while there I’d felt like the whole foundation of my life had crumbled out from under me.
But I knew the truth.
Michelle had left me because right when I’d needed someone the most in my life, I’d done everything I could to shut her out. I hadn’t wanted her comfort or her soft, soothing ways. I’d needed to feel the dagger of pain deep in my heart.
Some people in town thought Michelle had been evil, dumping me two months after my daddy died.
But I knew the truth. She’d held on to me as long as she could… long after I’d done everything to shut her out.
I blinked hard against the sudden sting in my eyes and made a mental note to call my mom today. She was the only person who could understand the pain I was going through, because she lived it every day herself.
Right as I was thinking that an alarm sounded. It was a loud, robotic sound that would wake the dead. After a few seconds of that, it morphed into the first few riffs of Birds of a Feather by Billie Eilish.
It figured she’d listen to a song like that. I’d been subjected to it by Mrs. Andretti’s great-niece. In fact, I’d had to listen to the whole album on repeat while I did the repair work on their roof. I could practically sing every lyric from memory, even if it was totally against my will.
Rachel stirred against me, and I felt the exact moment she woke up. Her whole body went rigid, every muscle tensing as she registered our position.
Neither of us moved.
Then, slowly, she shifted away from me and turned off her phone alarm.
I let my arm fall back to my side even though every nerve ending I had was protesting the loss of contact. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, and I did the same, leaving a careful six inches of charged air between us, my cock trembling with barely contained hunger.
“Morning,” I said, my voice rougher than I’d intended.
“Morning,” her response was barely a whisper.
We lay there for another moment, neither of us acknowledging what had happened during the night, and then she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed.
As I made us breakfast, she took a quick shower.
When she emerged her hair was austerely pulled back in its sleek bun again, nary a stray a-wandering.
Any soft girlishness I’d perceived in the middle of the night was gone. In front of me was a competent, serious woman dressed in a power suit, ready to go out and destroy the lives of my neighbors.
I cracked eggs into a pan and tried to focus on cooking instead of the way her pants clung to her curves. “What’s your plan for today?” I asked while I eyed her heels suspiciously. She’d break an ankle if she tried to wear those things out in the field today.
“I’ve got a stack of claims to investigate.” She was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, watching me work. “There are several properties on the east side of town, then a few more up toward Miller’s Ridge.”
“Is Mrs. Andretti on that list?”
Her eyebrows rose, surprise coloring her features. “No,” she said slowly, “but I have an Andretti scheduled for tomorrow. How did you know that?”
“I’m her contractor.” I kept my eyes on the eggs, but I could feel her gaze sharpening. “I’d like to be there during the inspection.”
The silence that followed was heavy with implications. I glanced over and saw the realization dawning on her face, the understanding that we weren’t just two strangers sharing a house anymore. We were on opposite sides of something that could get complicated fast.
“Oh. I didn’t realize.” She cleared her throat, the gears turning visibly behind her eyes. “That’s… fine,” she said finally. “You can be there. It’s your legal right.”
“You’re damn right it is.” I’d sat in on many insurance claims investigations before, steering the crooked adjusters off their course of underpayment.
Insurance adjusters like Rachel robbed from the poor to line their wealthy corporate employers’ pockets. It was despicable.
I scooped the eggs onto two plates and put them down at the kitchen table. “Sit. Eat.”
She followed my lead and settled daintily on the edge of the chair. “Thank you.”
“Yup,” I nodded and reached for the salt at the same moment she did.
Our fingers grazed, and the contact sent a jolt up my arm that had no business feeling that intense. Her eyes met mine, brown and warm behind those practical glasses, and for half a second neither of us pulled away.
Then she pulled her hand back, touching her hair to make sure no loose strands had run away on her, and the moment broke.
I salted my eggs, then put the shaker down next to her plate. “Are you staying another night?”
The question came out before I could stop it, and I found myself hanging on her answer like it mattered. Because despite what she did for a living, I desperately wanted another night with her.
She hesitated. Something flickered across her face, an internal debate I couldn’t read, and then she said quietly, “Yes. Will that be all right?”
I went hard so fast it almost hurt. She knew what she was agreeing to. Rachel knew the furnace might not be fixed and that we could end up in that bed again, and she was choosing to stay, anyway.
My eyes locked on hers, and a wave of heat passed between us. “Cool. That works for me. You can stay as long as you need.”
She cleared her throat. “Uh, well, I expect to be in town for three days, maybe four. Probably not longer than that. If I can… stay here in the meantime it would be great for me. Driving all the way from Fernwood every day wouldn’t be ideal.”
“Yup. I’m heading that way today myself,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “It feels like a longer drive than it should be because of all the winding mountain roads between here and there. I’ll be getting the parts for the furnace. Fingers crossed I’ll have it running by tonight.”
Rachel touched her hair again, making sure nothing was out of place. It was a nervous gesture I was starting to recognize. “That sounds good.”
I grabbed my truck keys from the hook by the door, already thinking about tonight.
I was definitely in trouble over this woman.