Chapter 7 #2
“Thanks.” I look down at my own plate, suddenly overwhelmed by having his full attention on me.
Dinner finishes faster than the time it took to assemble the tacos, as we forgo the small talk and simply eat our food.
I have to say, I don’t mind. The tacos are to die for, and I usually never get to finish my food on a date.
Opting to get to know the person instead.
Not that this is a date. I’m just enjoying being able to eat my food the way I want without worrying if the person eating with me will judge me for it.
We clean up supper together, Clay shooing me away when there’s only the slow cooker left to deal with.
It’s not quite dark enough to trek over to my car for the rest of my stuff, so I head for the front room to settle into my reading nook when a flash of metal precedes the rumble of my dad’s old pickup.
With the front of the cabin being all windows, I’m limited to where I can hide to keep from being seen. I opt for the most obvious answer and throw myself down on the floor, unable to stop the little yelp from escaping when my hip slams into the hardwood.
“Leni?” Clay pops out of the kitchen area, looking at me with concern, when a knock sounds on the door. His eyes widen as he peeks around to see who’s outside. “Hey, Pa,” he says, opening the door wide enough to not be suspicious, but not far enough to show me in the living area.
“Clay, how’s it going, son?”
A little ache slices through my chest at the sound of my dad’s voice. I haven’t realized how much I missed seeing him in person until right this second.
“I’m good.”
“Settling in, okay?”
“Yeah, I think so. Though I’m sure Leni will be happy when I find somewhere a little more permanent. Mercers on a campaign to find some way to lure her home this summer.”
Another stinging pain cuts through my chest at the thought of Clay not being here permanently. Somehow, this place feels more like home with him in it. My dad laughs; I can almost see him shaking his head at Mercer’s antics. He’s kind of like the class clown of the family.
“Well, I won’t take any more of your time, Clay. I just stopped by cause Brooks said he couldn’t reach you by phone.”
“Oh, shit.” I hear some rustling, likely Clay pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I put it on Do Not Disturb after work. The group chat was out of control.”
“This is why I don’t have one of them fancy phones,” Dad grunts. I can almost guarantee his white, Tom Selleck-style mustache twitches when he frowns.
“Yeah, well, not all of us can be as cool as you, Orson.”
“Ain’t that the truth?”
“Should I call him back then?”
“Oh, nah, he’s taking a personal day tomorrow.” I scrunch my face up in confusion. Brooks doesn’t take personal days. He doesn’t know the meaning of rest. “Was wonderin’ if you could help pick up the slack a little. Half the guys took off the weekend for the first rodeo of the season.”
“Yeah, of course. Everything okay?”
“You know, Brooks,” Dad says. “He didn’t say much, just said he needed the day. Possibly the weekend.”
“Got it. Well, I’ll be there.”
“Great.” There’s a brief pause before my dad sniffs loud enough that I can hear it. “Whatcha cooking up in there, Clay? Smells like Leni’s tacos.”
“Oh, uh, yeah. I found a bag of stuff in the freezer.”
“Damn, you find any more, you let me know.”
“Will do,” Clay promises.
“Alright, see you in the morning then, kiddo.”
I stay down on the floor, listening as Clay closes the door and my dad’s old pickup starts up.
The familiar rumble fading away into the distance.
I turn over on my back, groaning a little as I peel myself off the floor.
Clayton is leaning a shoulder into the door frame; one ankle crossed over the other, a hand tucked into his jean pocket. “You good over there?”
I give him a weak thumbs up as I struggle to my feet. That’s three times now, in two days, that I’ve crash landed on the floor, and my body is hurting. I need to take a hot ass bath tomorrow when Clay is gone.
“Kate’s in town,” Clay says as if he’s talking about the weather, but my entire body freezes up at the statement.
I don’t make a habit of hating people, but I hate Kate McGinnity with the passion of a burning sun.
The way she wrecked my brother is unacceptable.
I’d like to take her little heroin addicted face and stomp it into the ground.
“Easy there, killer.” Clay moves to stand in front of me, turning me around so he can work his thumbs into the solid rocks where my shoulder muscles are.
It takes Herculean effort not to make any kind of sound as his fingers work magic through the knots in my shoulders.
I don’t want him to stop, but I’m pretty sure any moaning on my part, and he’ll bolt to the other side of the room, so I’m doing my best to keep quiet.
Enjoying the fact that he’s touching me, and I don’t want to run away from it.
“Do you think that’s why he’s not working tomorrow?
I don’t think I’ve ever heard of Brooks taking a day off. ”
“I’d hardly call it a coincidence. The only time Brooks has taken any time off from work, since dumping her sleazy ass, was when he had pneumonia. We had to sneak sleeping supplements into his drinks to get him to stay inside.”
“Do you think he’d get back together with her?”
“He better fucking not.” Clay wraps an arm around my collarbone, supporting my body as he digs into my right trap.
I lean into him, fairly certain at this point, he’s supporting more of my weight than I am.
“I’d be more worried about her conning him out of some money or something.
Not to mention all the bad feelings she brings up every time she rolls into town. Brooks needs to find someone else.”
“She’d have to be a veterinarian or something. How else would he meet someone?”
“True,” I snort. It takes me a minute to realize that he’s not massaging me anymore, but he's holding me. I snuggle deeper into his chest, pleasantly surprised when his other arm comes around me. His chin resting on the top of my shoulder.
I feel his chest expand and contract behind me, pushing into my back before it recedes, like he’s breathing me in.
I want to turn around and bury my face in his chest, wrap my own arms around him, and maybe shake him a little to ask him why he never called me.
Ask him why he never checked on me. How he could just let me go.
I don’t want to move away or break this moment of surrender and silent confession between us either.