Chapter 4
CLAY
I hate hospitals. Had enough of them for a lifetime after I lost my leg—but I suck it up and let the doctors run their tests.
Scan. Wait. Results. Scan. Wait. Results.
The cycle goes on for two hours, and then it ends all at once.
The doctor says I’m fine, the nurse hands over my discharge papers, and that’s it.
My brain feels scrambled as I head back toward the waiting room. I know damn well I didn’t hit my head when I was knocked down, but it sure feels like it. I can’t focus. My mind is racing, and as much as I’d like to blame it on the car that hit me, I know it’s all down to the woman who was driving.
From the minute I set eyes on Savannah, my body has been going haywire.
I’ve never felt like this before—never reacted like this to a woman in all my forty-five years.
Even now, as I near the double doors that lead to the waiting room, my heart is thumping wildly.
It feels like it’s about to tear right out of my chest and land with a splat on the linoleum floor.
Fuck, what’s happening to me?
I reach the doors, praying Savannah’s still here.
I’m also praying she isn’t…so I can regain control of my damn senses.
But when I step into the waiting room, I see her immediately, talking to the receptionist behind the desk.
She turns as I enter, and when our eyes lock, it hits me all over again—a fierce need I can’t explain, overtaking my mind and flooding my body with adrenaline.
Savannah’s eyes melt with relief when she sees me. Her bottom lip is red and puffy, like she’s been chewing on it ever since I left. This sweet angel has clearly been worrying about me, and she takes a step forward, her gaze fixed on mine as I approach.
In my peripheral vision, I see the receptionist looking at us.
“Hi there,” she drawls. “Clay, right? Glad you’re doing okay, honey. I was just telling your girlfriend—”
“Bye!” Savannah cuts in before the receptionist can finish. “Thanks for your help!” Then her hand circles my wrist, and she pulls me outside into the frosty evening.
Girlfriend?
Even in the darkness, I can see Savannah blushing.
Her soft cheeks always seem to be on the verge of turning pink.
She avoids my gaze, letting go of my wrist and making a beeline for her car.
I stare at her as she rushes ahead, my skin still burning from the memory of her touch, mind reeling as I try to figure out what just happened.
“Did that lady just call you my girlfriend?”
Savannah ignores my question and asks, “What did the doctor say?”
“Answer me first.”
She unlocks her car, avoiding my gaze. “I wanted to come check on you, but the receptionist said only partners and family could visit, so I…fibbed a little.”
“You said you were my girlfriend?”
“Like I said, I fibbed.”
Savannah looks flustered as she gets into the driver’s seat.
The car smells like her—warm and fruity—and I slide into the passenger seat beside her.
It’s pretty damn cramped in here. A little hatchback like this wasn’t built for a guy my size, and my upper thigh presses tight against Savannah’s as she reverses out of the hospital parking lot.
“Do you want me to drive you home?” she asks. “Or just to your truck?”
“Truck. Thanks.”
“You’re sure you’re okay to drive back to your place?”
I nod. “Doctor said I’m fine.”
She sighs with relief, like I just lifted a weight off her shoulders. “That’s really good to hear, Clay.”
My stomach jolts when she says my name in that pretty little voice—sweet as honey. I still can’t get over that she told the receptionist we were dating. It shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t mean anything, but I can’t stop running it over in my head.
“So,” Savannah lets out a shaky breath, “kind of a weird night, huh?”
I grunt in agreement.
After a brief pause, she asks, “Do you live in town?”
“No, I live on Cherry Mountain.”
She nods, unsurprised. “I’m guessing you’re a lumberjack?”
“That obvious, huh?”
Her lips tug into a sweet smile. “Yep.”
There are plenty of lumberjacks around these parts. Crave County has a thriving timber industry, and there’s a sawmill just outside Cherry Hollow. The work is solitary. Physical. It suits guys like me—broken old men looking for some peace.
“What about you?” I ask Savannah. “You live here?”
Learning more about her feels dangerous—like opening a door I can’t close. But right now, I can’t help myself.
“Yep,” she says. “My apartment is just down the street from where I hit you.” She cuts off, shuddering a little. “I’m so sorry again. My insurance will cover all your bills.”
Savannah’s insurance is the last thing on my mind as I look at her quivering bottom lip.
“You okay?” I ask.
She shoots me a weak smile. “I’ll be fine. I’m not the one who just got hit by a car.” There’s a few beats of silence before she adds, “Thank you, Clay.”
“For what?”
“For not dying.”
I grunt. “Gonna take more than this little toy car to finish me off.”
Savannah lets out a breathy laugh. Then she reaches out a hand, patting the dashboard. “Don’t listen, Henry. You’re the perfect size.”
“Henry?”
She nods. “Henry Honda.”
“You named the car?”
“Of course. He has a middle name, too. Bartholemew.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Anything else?”
“He’s a Sagittarius.”
“Now you’re just making stuff up.”
Savannah chortles as we reach the hardware store. The parking lot is empty except for my pickup, and she parks beside it, my vehicle dwarfing her tiny car.
“Are you sure it’s a truck?” she asks, killing the engine. “It looks more like a tank.”
“I’m a big guy. Need the space.”
She stares at it. “Thank God I wasn’t driving that when I hit you.” I see her wince slightly, turning to look at me. Her big brown eyes roam my face, voice soft as she asks, “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
My mouth is too dry to answer right away. Every time this girl makes eye contact, I forget how to speak, move, breathe.
“I’m fine,” I manage to grunt. “Don’t worry about me.”
She presses her lips together, nodding slowly, and a strand of hair falls over her face.
My fingers itch to touch it, but I reach for the door handle instead.
I need to get out of this car. It feels like I’m trapped in a pressure cooker, the temperature rising, heat threatening to set my veins alight.
I’m way too close to Savannah. Hell, if this car were any smaller, she’d be sitting on my damn lap.
I need to get away from her before I do something stupid…
like kiss her pretty mouth…fill my hands with her soft curves.
“I better get going,” I mutter, shifting in my seat. My cock is swelling, thick and hard against my thigh, and pretty soon my jeans won’t be able to hide it.
“It was good to meet you, Clay,” Savannah says softly. “Even if the circumstances weren’t exactly…ideal.”
I nod, swallowing hard. I don’t know what to say. This girl has no idea what she’s doing to me right now. She’s smiling at me so damn sweetly that I’m almost expecting a halo to appear around her head.
I force out a low goodbye, more a grunt than anything.
“Bye, Clay,” Savannah replies. “Take care of yourself.”
Pushing open the door, I glance back at her. Our eyes meet, and suddenly I can’t move. It feels like there’s a rope tightening around my torso, pinning me to my seat and making it physically impossible to leave this sweet angel behind.
Pull yourself together, Clay.
Get out of the fucking car.
The struggle lasts several beats too long, and it takes all my willpower to finally wrench my gaze away from Savannah’s.
Then I get out of her car without another word, climbing up into my truck.
Her engine rumbles to life beside me, and I watch as she drives toward the exit, taking a right out of the parking lot.
My nose brushes the windscreen. I’m leaning so close that my breath steams up the glass as I twist my neck to keep Savannah’s car in sight.
She told me earlier she lives near the hardware store, and sure enough, I watch her pull up outside a small apartment block on the other side of the street, just a few buildings away.
A security light turns on, illuminating Savannah as she gets out of the car.
Even from here, I can make out her thick curves, her shiny brown hair spilling down her back.
I watch her like a hawk as she grabs her purse and shuts the car door, then disappears inside the building.
A minute later, a window on the top floor turns light.
I keep my gaze trained on it, waiting for any sign of movement, but a shadowy hand pulls the curtains closed and the window turns dark once more.
“Fuck.”
I slump back in my seat, smacking my head against the headrest with a growl of frustration.
This is bad. Really bad.
I’ve seen how this shit goes. I watched it happen to guys in the military. Watched it happen to Thorne when he met Aria. His obsession took hold overnight, and he was instantly wrapped around her little finger.
I swore I’d never let that happen to me.
But here I am, sitting in my truck with a hard-on, staring at an apartment block to get a glimpse of a girl I just met.
And I’m pissed off as hell about it. I didn’t ask for this.
Didn’t ask for this angel to hit me with her car and turn my brain inside out in the process.
She’s knocked something loose inside me—opened a floodgate I can’t seem to close.
This is how it all starts.
Gritting my teeth, I drive out of the parking lot, hands tightening on the wheel as I pass Savannah’s apartment.
I need to calm down—take a cold shower and claw back some of my sanity.
But as I begin the journey back to my cabin on Cherry Mountain, I can’t help feeling like my whole world has been flipped on its head.