Chapter 8 Clayton
Clayton
Loretta Andretti’s place sat at the end of a winding gravel road.
She owned a modest cabin with a wraparound porch that had seen better days. The roof showed obvious signs of recent repair work, my repair work, and I felt my shoulders tense as I pulled the truck to a stop.
The old woman was already coming out to greet us before I’d even killed the engine, her silver hair pulled back in a neat braid. She broke into a warm smile when she spotted me through the windshield.
“Clayton Armstrong, you sweet boy,” she called out as I climbed down from the truck. “I was hoping you’d come by today.”
Warmth spread through my chest at the sight of her. Mrs. Andretti had been a fixture in my life since I was a kid, always ready with a plate of cookies or a kind word when I needed one.
After my dad passed, she’d shown up at the house every Sunday for three months with casseroles and quiet company, never asking for anything in return.
It was like she’d known I just needed some silent support during those dark days.
“Loretta,” I bent down to accept her hug, careful not to squeeze too tight. She felt frailer than she had last year. “How’s the roof holding up?”
“Not a single leak since you fixed it. You’re a miracle worker, Clay.
Now I just have to deal with the plumbing issues.
” She patted my cheek with papery fingers, then turned her attention to Rachel, who was climbing out of the passenger side with her tablet already in hand. “And who’s this pretty thing?”
“Rachel Williams, ma’am,” Rachel’s professional smile was firmly in place, but I caught the flicker of something soft in her eyes. “I’m with HomeGuard Insurance. I’m here to assess the hail damage from the recent storm.”
“Oh, of course. Well, you just look around all you need to, honey. Clay here did everything for me. He got all the materials for free. Can you believe that? What an angel he is.”
I cringed as the words came out of her mouth, noticing Rachel’s sharp eyes assessing me. We both knew there were no receipts for the work I’d done. And insurance claims worked on actual costs, not imaginary figures pulled from thin air.
I pulled the tarp off the back of my truck while Nuts and Bolts ran around in Mrs. Andretti’s yard.
“Got some materials for you,” I said, hefting a bundle of salvaged lumber onto my shoulder.
“Should be enough to patch up that back fence once the ground dries out. Plus, I’ve got a used sink for you.
I’m still waiting for a shower surround.
Davis said he’s pulling out of a job next month.
The guys are going to try to be careful with it so we can reuse it here. ”
“You’re too good to me,” Loretta crooned as Rachel walked off to start her inspection.
She watched me carry the materials to her shed, her eyes sharp despite her age as she followed along behind me. “That girl seems nice. Pretty, too.”
“That’s not a girl, Loretta. That’s a shark disguised in a grown woman’s body.”
The old woman tittered. “You always have been too dramatic, Clay. Did I notice a little sparkle magic between the two of you?”
Sparkle magic. What the fuck.
“No, ma’am. She’s an insurance adjuster, Loretta. That means she’s the enemy. Remember that and don’t get too close to her. She’ll use anything we say against you.”
“I know what she is. I also know how you were looking at her.” She smiled, that knowing grandmother kind of smile that always made me feel about twelve years old. “Your daddy looked at your mama the same way, you know. Right up until the day he died.”
The mention of my father walloped right into my heart. I set down the lumber and turned away, pretending to organize the shed for a second.
“I’ll just get this put away,” I said roughly. “You go on inside where it’s warm.”
“All right, Clay, forget I mentioned it.” Loretta patted my arm before she went back inside, and I was grateful she didn’t push the topic further.
It was no wonder Mrs. Andretti had picked up on my stupid crush right away. She’d always been able to read me like an open book.
I found Rachel around the back of the house, walking the perimeter with her tablet, making notes and taking photographs.
The afternoon light caught the red undertones in her tightly bound hair, and I had to force myself to focus on something else before I did something stupid, like tug her bun loose.
Last night had been the hardest night of my life.
This gorgeous woman had slept in my bed two nights now, and I’d managed to keep my hands to myself through sheer force of will. But it was getting harder.
Last night I’d been so close to getting reckless and pulling her against me, finding out what sounds she’d make if I kissed that soft spot behind her ear.
But I wasn’t a reckless man.
And I hadn’t slept with a woman since Michelle, not from lack of opportunity. But because I hadn’t wanted to.
The thought of letting someone that close again had been enough to kill any desire I might have felt.
But Rachel was different.
Rachel made me want things I’d convinced myself I didn’t need.
Maybe that’s okay, though.
She wouldn’t be here long. A few more days, a week at most, and she’d be gone, back to her life in Arizona while I stayed here on this mountain where I belonged. Maybe the smart thing to do was to get this need for her out of my system, knowing she wouldn’t be sticking around long term.
Even as I thought it, my chest grew uncomfortably tight.
Damn it. Part of me wanted to keep her, and it wasn’t just my dick talking. For some reason my heart was involved too.
I didn’t understand where those emotions were coming from. I barely knew this woman. She represented everything I distrusted about the corporate world.
But she was also kind. I’d seen it in the way she’d treated the homeowners today, patient and thorough, never condescending even when they didn’t understand the process.
She’d knelt in the mud to examine foundation damage at the Harrison place, ruining her fancy slacks without a single complaint.
And she’d accepted Mrs. Patterson’s cookies with genuine warmth, not the fake politeness I’d expected from someone like her.
She’d even seemed to like those simple cookies made by an old country woman.
Not something from a fancy big-city bakery.
It proved Rachel could be satisfied with simple things.
I thought about my dad again, and the way he’d looked at my mom across the breakfast table every morning like she was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
My mom had been destroyed by her grief after he died.
She’d seemed to shrink into herself, like part of her had been buried alongside him.
Maybe that was why I’d been keeping women at a distance. Because I’d seen what love could do to a person when it was ripped away, and some part of me had decided it wasn’t worth the risk.
Michelle would probably agree with that assessment.
But watching Rachel, as she moved with careful precision, her brow furrowed in concentration, I wondered if maybe I could open to love now.
Fuck. That was probably just my dick talking.
Rachel kneeled to examine some siding damage near the foundation, and her hair came loose from her bun, dark strands falling across her cheek. She made a frustrated sound and tried to tuck it behind her ear, but it fell forward again almost immediately.
I moved before I could think better of it.
My fingers brushed her cheek as I caught the strand of hair, tucking it gently behind her ear. Her skin was soft beneath my knuckles, and she inhaled sharply at the contact, her whole body going still.
I let my hand linger for just a moment, my thumb tracing the curve of her cheekbone before I forced myself to pull away.
She stood up and met my eyes with a questioning look.
“Sorry,” I said, though I wasn’t. “It was in your way.”
Rachel’s eyes were locked on mine, dark and wide and wanting.
We stayed there for a long moment, close enough that I could see the flutter of her pulse at the base of her throat. Then she turned back to her tablet with hands that weren’t quite steady, and I followed her inside.
The hallway in Mrs. Andretti’s cabin was narrow, the ceiling low enough that I had to duck slightly to avoid the exposed beams. Rachel was examining water damage near the back bedroom, her tablet held up to document the staining on the ceiling.
“Did you do the work on that beam?” she asked, not looking at me. “It looks like the structural integrity is compromised.”
I stepped in close behind her, close enough that my chest nearly touched her back as I looked up at the beam in question.
It had been on my list to replace as soon as I got a piece of lumber that would work.
But I lied, “Looks solid to me. The staining is surface level, probably just from the leak before I patched the roof last year.”
“I don’t think so, Clayton. You can see right here where—”, Rachel tilted her head, and suddenly we were face to face, inches apart, and I saw the want there, naked and undeniable. I swear sparks flew in the air around us.
Her breath caught. Mine did too.
The fire between us had been building for two days now, growing stronger with every accidental touch and every charged silence.
Our lips were just inches apart. Was this the moment when I couldn’t handle the hunger any longer? Right here in Loretta’s house?
Was I going to kiss this woman?
Fuck… I definitely was.
I leaned in to close the final distance between us, my lips brushing hers, right when Mrs. Andretti came around the corner into the room.
“Oh my, I didn’t mean to interrupt!” The old woman’s eyes twinkled with poorly concealed delight. “I made lunch for all of us. Would you like to take a break and enjoy some pot roast and potatoes? Or maybe I’ll give you two some privacy to finish your… inspection.”