Chapter 13
Clay rolled over in bed, suddenly aware that something had woken him up. He peered into the darkness, looking for Payton, although she rarely got up in the middle of the night. Especially not after a busy day like they’d just had.
He checked the peephole, and though it was dark, difficult to see, he could swear that was Andie. He swung the door open.
Sweet Mary, that was Andie all right.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, looking for an injury or a sign of alarm.
But she just looked…sleepy. Bed-rumpled.
Sexy as hell in a white camisole, which did little to hide her breasts, and satiny pink boxers.
Nothing on her feet but dark toenail polish and a modest tattoo at her ankle.
Her hair, normally smooth and brushed flat, was tangled, mussed.
He itched to touch it, run his fingers through it. Mess it up more.
“I think the smoke alarm is broken,” she said. “Keeps beeping. It’s maddening.”
If this was a joke, she was keeping a perfectly straight face. “The smoke alarm is beeping,” he repeated.
“Every thirty seconds. I counted. I checked to make sure there was no smoke.”
He leaned against the jamb. “You woke me up at five in the morning.”
“I don’t know how to fix it,” she said. “I’ve never had a smoke detector before. I didn’t figure you’d like it if I threw my boot at it until it shut up.”
Clay tried to hold the laugh in. He looked down at her bare feet and could imagine all too well the sight of her nailing the smoke detector with those ass-kicking boots. Eventually he gave up the effort and his shoulders shook.
She scowled at him. “You’re no help. Boot it is.” She started down the stairs.
“Biker girl, wait. The thing just needs batteries. Give me thirty seconds.” He went inside and jogged up the stairs to Payton’s attic room.
She was sound asleep when he kissed her forehead.
He stopped by his room on the way out and pulled a T-shirt over his head.
Locking Payton in, he went back outside.
Andie sat on the top step, hunched over her legs against the breeze, which made her camisole crawl up and afforded him a nice view of her smooth, tanned lower back. Tattooed, of course.
“Let’s go,” he said, speeding past her, ignoring the sight, the hair. The desire.
Mostly.
“You put a shirt on,” she said, sounding disappointed.
“You’re observant in the middle of the night.”
“I liked you better without it.” The sleepy huskiness of her voice was a turn-on, dammit.
Ignore.
She followed him down the stairs and into her unit.
“Which one is it?” he asked, walking into the darkness.
“Bedroom.”
“Keep the door open. I don’t like leaving Payton up there alone.”
The detector beeped, right above his head.
“Yep. Battery’s dying.”
He flipped on the light and squinted against the brightness.
Her bed was front, center, left, and right, taking up the entire room and impossible to ignore.
The covers were twisted and he could clearly make out where her body had lain in the very middle of the mattress.
Guess she wasn’t in the habit of sharing with someone. But then neither was he.
Back to fire safety.
“You really didn’t know that?” he asked, turning to face her where she stood in the doorway. “Or are you messing with me?”
She looked genuinely surprised at the accusation. “How was I supposed to know? Not a homeowner here.”
“Apartments have them. Hotels, motels, hell, even McDonald’s has to have a smoke detector.”
“I’ve seen them. I’ve never had one beep at me.”
“Not even growing up?” he ventured.
“Let’s just say my dad wasn’t the Safety Sam type.”
“I don’t suppose you have a nine-volt handy?” he asked, swearing at himself for not yet replacing his after using the last one in his living room detector a few days ago. Normally he was vigilant about such things.
“I don’t have a nine-volt handy. It’s no big deal, Clay. It can wait till morning if you can just make it shut up.”
He shook his head. “Sorry. Not going to take a chance.”
“It’s five o’clock.”
“Believe me, I’m aware of that.”
“What do you want me to do, walk to the nearest store and buy a damn battery?”
“I want you to stay with Payton upstairs while I get one.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you? There’s not going to be a fire tonight. This morning. Whatever.”
“Hope not. Still replacing the battery.”
“I’ll be on your couch.”
He’d rather have her in his bed, frankly, but they had an agreement about that. In the middle of the night, with her looking like that, he couldn’t quite remember why.
A light blared into the darkness of Clay’s living room, abruptly waking Andie.
She opened her eyes to find it was the kitchen light.
He hadn’t turned on the one over her head as she’d initially suspected, but still…
It was easier to sleep in a tent next to the damn highway than it was in this building tonight.
She pulled the comforter she’d taken from his bed around her chin and curled back into the couch, wondering what he was doing now but not caring quite enough to brave the harsh chilled air.
Seconds later, she sensed his presence and opened her eyes again. Sure enough, there he stood, looming over her. He still wore the plain dark gray T-shirt, but she had no trouble recalling how he’d looked without it—like a tantalizing, sex-filled ad for a gym. Sign her up, please.
“What?” she asked.
“Make yourself at home.” He indicated the comforter.
“You keep it refrigerator cold in here. This is all I could find. Want it back?”
“I’m up for the day. Have to work in an hour and a half.”
Crap. She’d forgotten. “I’m sorry.” She sat up, wrapping the thick blanket around her shoulders.
“Want breakfast? I stopped for coffee and bagels.”
“I don’t normally eat at this hour, but it seems like I was not meant to sleep tonight.”
“Seems that way. I got cinnamon raisin, double chocolate, and sesame. And some Puerto Rican blend.”
“Yes to food. No to the man coffee. Who wants to stay awake at this hour?” She had every intention of heading back to her place to sleep for a couple more hours before she had to be at the Shell Shack. “Let me just put this back.”
Andie shivered as she took the comforter into his room, allowing herself one more chance to breathe in Clay’s scent, which had permeated it, before she spread it out over his double bed.
She joined him at the kitchen counter, picking up a sesame bagel and slathering cream cheese on it.
As she took her first bite, she turned and leaned against the counter.
Clay perused her, up and down, reminding her she was slightly indecent, especially with the cold air doing a number on her nipples.
Heat simmered in his eyes when he dragged them back to her gaze, and then she was quite sure the temperature of the room was no longer responsible for her body’s reaction.
“So,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is your sister watching Payton today?”
Clay nodded, frowning. “Guess this is what they mean about a firefighter trying to be a single father. It’s tough leaving her for twenty-four hours at a time.”
“It evens out to a person with a regular job, though, doesn’t it?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “In theory. I just hope it’s not making the whole transition from her mother even harder on her. I don’t want to do anything to make her life worse.”
Andie set her bagel on a napkin and moved closer, facing him, demanding eye contact. “Clay. You’re a wonderful father.”
He scoffed. “Not wonderful.”
“Why would you think that? Compared to her addict mother? You think you’re not good for her?”
He thought about that for a few seconds. “When you put it that way, I know this is a better place than her mother’s. But I’ve got my family around, and they eternally judge me, watching for mistakes.”
She thought about the people she’d met last night. “They don’t seem like that to me.”
“You’ve known them how long?” he said curtly.
“Sometimes an outside perspective is more accurate. They care a lot about both Payton and you. That much was evident.”
“I live in constant fear of doing the wrong thing with her.”
She took his coffee from him and set it on the counter behind him so she could grab his arms without making him spill. “Don’t you see? That right there proves to me you’re a good father. Sucky fathers don’t give a thought to whether they’re doing the ‘wrong thing.’ Believe me on this one.”
He met her gaze and took her hands, weaving their fingers together. “From what you’ve said, your dad was the worst of the worst.”
He pulled her closer, until their bodies touched. Andie’s mind temporarily stopped working as her heart revved up. She was close enough to see the gold flecks in his eyes, the shallow laugh lines, every last bit of stubble that had grown overnight. The subtle sheen of moisture on those lips…
“I definitely don’t want to talk about my dad right now,” she said softly. “Trust yourself, Clay.”
“Trust myself.”
Andie nodded, sensing the subject they were discussing had changed. She reached up to touch his face, grazing her fingers over his sandpapery cheek. He moved his hands to her lower back, beneath her camisole.
Andie’s blood pulsed hard through her veins as she waited to see if he would push her away as he had more than once before. His eyes darted toward her lips, and she decided the hell with waiting.
Their lips met and there was no gentle, unsure moment when they tested each other out.
The attraction they’d been fighting for days had been ignited like a match tossed into a puddle of gasoline.
His tongue plunged into her mouth. She matched his intensity, needing to knock him off his feet the same way he was doing to her.
Clay drew her into him, his hands roving over her body, making her crave more of him. Lots more.
Andie pushed his shirt up to touch the incredible chest she’d gotten too brief a glimpse of earlier. The hard ridges of muscle, the sprinkling of hair… She didn’t think she could get sick of this body in a hundred years. She pulled his T-shirt over his head and discarded it behind her.
Clay couldn’t get enough of her.
He wanted her naked, now, wanted his shorts off. Wanted to carry her into his bedroom and spend days exploring her body and making her scream. He slid his hands beneath her pajama shorts and moaned at the feel of the smooth skin of her ass.
He trailed his lips to her neck, kissing beneath her ear, lower, down to her shoulder. When she let out a sexy moan, he opened his eyes to see her face. His attention was drawn to the intricate body art on the skin he’d been kissing.
As he inspected it, remembering the first time he’d seen it out by the pool, he caught a glimpse of the eight-by-ten photo on the wall of Payton in her sequined dance costume. He fought with himself for several seconds, wanting to kiss Andie more, see where it led, but…she had a police record.
No matter what he thought of her, that record was in black-and-white, a fact, something that could and would be used against him in court if he was involved with her.
Clay was wildly attracted to this woman—no denying that.
But could he honestly stand before a judge and swear that Andie’s influence on Payton was completely positive?
Part of him thought so. But was that the part he could rely on or the part that had steered him wrong in the past?
His judgment had been skewed before. Who said he knew any better now?
He closed his eyes, full of regret for what he had to do. He had to stop. He kissed her temple, held her close, savoring a few last seconds. Then he ran his hands down her arms, trying to be more brisk and businesslike.
Andie looked up at him with lust-hazed eyes, which only shot more heat through him. Damn, this trying to do the right thing idea sucked.
He glanced at Payton’s photo again. He couldn’t lose her.
“Aaand, just like that, we’re done,” Andie said, taking a step back.
“You make me lose my damn mind, biker girl.”
“Apparently not completely,” she said with a hollow smile.
“You know why—”
Andie nodded. “I know why.” She stood straighter, adjusted her camisole, her eyes becoming clear. “It’s good you stopped before either one of us did something we’d regret.”
“Right.” He was going to keep telling himself that all day.
“I’m going back to bed while you go off and do noble things.”
He smiled at what she’d said, but even more, at the image of her in her tangled sheets.
Before he realized what she was doing, Andie stood on her toes and nibbled him briefly beneath his ear.
“Have a good day at the office, dear,” she said, then snuck out the door just before the sun started rising.
He walked off to take a cold shower, wondering if he was the dumbest man on the planet.