Chapter 11
The next day, Clay and Payton made their way down the stairs to Andie’s. Bridget was due to pick Payton up in a few minutes for their movie, a princess-y one, Clay had been reassured. And he’d been forbidden to join them. It was a girls’ day, and he wasn’t invited.
Payton carried Lyle in one hand and the dainty butterfly purse Clay had given her for her birthday over her shoulder. She’d thrown in some play makeup, a notebook and pen, and her plastic cell phone—everything a girl could need.
When they got to Andie’s landing, however, the big-girl facade fell away.
“You can go watch for butterflies if you want,” Clay told her as he knocked on Andie’s door.
Payton glued herself to his side and shook her head. He looked down at her, puzzled, as Andie opened the door.
“Hi,” he said, then put one finger up and bent down to Payton. “What is it, girly? You don’t want to hunt for butterflies?” Payton shook her head and Clay picked her up. “Why not? You love butterflies.”
She squeezed the teddy bear and leaned on Clay’s shoulder. He looked in the front yard to see if someone was there. It was empty.
“Bees,” Andie said, studying his daughter. “Are you scared of getting stung again, sweetie?”
Payton nodded slowly, and Clay ached for her. What could he say though? The thought of her getting stung again filled him with dread too. Yet he couldn’t encourage her to become a hermit or to let her fears get the best of her.
“I’m right here. I can watch you the whole time. Remember we have your EpiPen to keep you safe if anything happens.” Clay held up the pink mini knapsack he’d bought especially for that purpose.
Her lower lip threatened to pop out as she pursed her lips and shook her head.
“You can stay with me until Aunt Bridget shows up.” He kissed her temple and tightened his hold on her.
“Oh, just a second. Got something for you,” Andie said.
She was inside for less than a minute. Bridget pulled up by the curb, and Payton squirmed to get down as Andie reappeared.
“Hey, birthday girl, here you go.” Andie handed Payton an envelope. “Take it with you.”
Payton smiled widely.
“Tell Miss Andie thank you,” Clay reminded her.
“Thank you.”
Andie hugged Payton. “Happy Birthday. I’ll see you at your party.”
“You’re lucky to have such a generous sister,” Andie said when Bridget and Payton were out of earshot. “Is the rest of your family like that?”
“They might be if I let them. I try not to rely on them too much. I don’t want to burden them with my responsibilities. Been there, done that. You ready to get a motorcycle?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe. Walking is for the birds.”
“Birds actually fly.”
She stopped and looked at him. “Funny. Didn’t realize you had it in you.”
“I’m a very funny guy if you get to know me.” They walked down the stairs side by side.
“I’m specifically not supposed to get to know you. Remember?”
“Touché.”
“So how much will this bike rental cost you?” she asked as they climbed into the truck.
“Enough that you should be nice to me.”
“I’m always nice to you.”
He laughed. “Yeah. Nice like a scorpion.”
Tension crackled between them in the truck. It might be an extended cab, but Clay always managed to make it feel cramped and too small just by virtue of sitting his long, muscled frame in the driver’s seat.
Andie crossed her arms and turned her head to watch the scenery out her window and ignore him, ignore the undercurrents.
She couldn’t wait to get her bike so she could stop relying on others. She wasn’t used to asking for favors and had tried to walk wherever she needed to go while hers was in the shop, but the times she needed to go to the mainland, she’d had to bum a ride.
Then there was the restlessness. The need to be out on the road, without a month-long lease or a promise to a friend weighing her down. Just her, the endless pavement, and a 1200cc engine between her legs.
The first couple of days without her motorcycle had nearly driven her over the edge.
She’d felt penned in. Trapped. She’d started walking to Turtle Town whenever she could.
Her mind stayed occupied at Turtle Town, unlike the duplex, where it wandered, wondering what her sexy landlord was doing at every creak or thump.
Without her daily turtle trips, she’d swear to God she was in prison.
They turned down the alley, and Andie spotted Bud’s wooden sign.
She watched Clay out of the corner of her eye while he maneuvered the truck into a parking space.
As usual, she couldn’t remain indifferent to the sight.
His square jaw was shadowed by the beginning of rough stubble.
Dark glasses hid his eyes, but she knew the milk chocolate with gold flecks by heart anyway.
She studied his profile, thinking for the thousandth time he’d been blessed with symmetry and perfection, marred only by the scar on the right side of his face, near his hairline.
This time, though, there was no lingering resentment.
She felt only the lure of him. How could she not, after getting to know him better?
She climbed down from the high seat, uneasy at that realization.
Bud greeted them as he came out of one of the bays, wiping his hands on a towel. “Waitin’ on a part but I’ve got her lookin’ a lot better,” he told Andie.
He took them inside and pointed toward her mostly intact motorcycle. Andie circled it, as if she’d be able to see if something was off. The urge to jump on it and ride away was overpowering, and she recognized it was partly because of the guy who’d driven her here.
“It’s starting to look like my bike,” she said. “How long will the part take to come in?”
“Still tryin’ to locate one, so I can’t say. Got a lead on a possibility though. Understand you’re wantin’ a loaner today.”
Andie glanced at Clay, who stood outside, browsing a couple of used Harleys for sale.
“How much is this going cost him?” she asked quietly.
“Loaner? Seventy a day plus insurance.”
Andie tried not to flinch. “And … how long do you think it’ll be before mine’s done?”
“No more than a couple weeks.”
“Lot of money.” She said it more to herself than him, but he apparently picked up on it.
“Cheap, actually. Lot of places charge a hundred, hundred and fifty a day. I’m not making a profit on it, just covering costs.”
She nodded. “What kind of bike would it be?”
He rattled off the model as he led her to the other side of the garage, but she didn’t pay much attention. It didn’t really matter what kind, did it? She glanced at Clay again.
He was the one who’d suggested renting a motorcycle. She hadn’t asked for it. He knew how much it would cost. They’d made a deal. So why should she not go through with it?
For one thing, it would be a tangible tie between them, one that his ex’s attorney could track down and present in court as proof of…something between them.
Beyond that, though, Andie could no longer consider taking advantage of Clay’s offer. He was a hardworking guy busting his ass to do right by his daughter. She was sure he could use the money for her somehow.