Chapter 6 Clay
CLAY
It’s a chilly Saturday morning on Cherry Mountain, and I stoke the fire in my living room, prodding the logs with a poker. When the flames are roaring, I slump back on the couch with a grunt, staring broodingly up at the ceiling.
My brother came over a few minutes ago. Brewer and I usually hang out on Saturdays, chopping wood together, then shooting the shit over a tumbler of whiskey…
but today, I can’t bring myself to do anything.
Told him I have a headache, and he didn’t insist. Brewer seems to have his own shit going on right now, anyway.
He’s been acting weird, spending a lot of time at Bernie’s Diner in town and shrugging me off when I ask about it.
I’m guessing he’s down bad for someone who works there—quietly losing his mind. I can sympathize.
God help us both.
I run a hand over my beard, sighing irritably as I look down at the fireplace. I should do something productive, make breakfast, but my appetite is as non-existent as my ability to sleep.
It’s all Savannah’s fault.
That pretty little angel is the only thing on my mind.
I’ve been jerking off like a horny teenager since I came home last night, trying to ease some of the tension inside me.
But it hasn’t worked. My cock is sore and swollen, all my blood rushing downward every time I picture Savannah’s thick curves, her sweet face.
It’s fucking unbearable—an insatiable need that won’t go away.
I wish she was here.
I can just picture her sitting in my cabin right now, all softness and light. I’d take real good care of her: make her breakfast, then worship her perfect body with my hands, my tongue, my cock…
Fuck.
I’d hoped yesterday was just a fluke and that I’d feel saner after putting some distance between me and Savannah.
Instead, I want her more than ever. Even as logic screams that this girl is a stranger—that losing my mind over her makes no damn sense—no amount of rationality can fight the animal need inside me.
Hell, ignoring it only pulls me deeper into my obsession, like a riptide dragging me under.
Knock, knock.
A fist taps on my front door, wrenching me from my thoughts, and I drag myself reluctantly off the couch. It could be Brewer again, or maybe Thorne. My cabin is pretty remote, nestled in the thick forest that spans Cherry Mountain, and they’re the only two people who ever come knocking.
I open the door. My gaze drops a foot lower than expected, and my fingers tighten around the door handle, the air escaping from my lungs like I’ve been hit by a car all over again.
Savannah is standing on the porch.
I stare, my mind reeling as I take her in. She’s wearing a knitted cream dress that reaches her knees, hugging every perfect inch of her body. My gaze roams the generous swell of her breasts, the soft curve of her stomach.
So fucking beautiful.
Her cherry-red lips are shiny with balm, chocolate-brown hair falling loose around her shoulders. She looks so damn sweet. So innocent. She has no idea I’ve been losing my mind over her since yesterday, hearing her voice in my dreams, picturing her curves while I stroke my cock.
What the hell is she doing here?
“Hi,” she says softly, holding something out for me. I was too busy staring at her to notice it before, but she’s carrying a pie box with Buttercup Bakery stamped on the top.
“I said I owed you a cherry pie,” Savannah continues with a nervous smile.
I clear my throat, forcing my tongue to work. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” There’s a pause as we look at each other. “I’m sorry to show up uninvited like this.”
I still can’t believe she’s here. Part of me is convinced I’m asleep right now.
“How’d you find me?” I ask hoarsely.
Savannah looks bashful. “My cousin Aria mentioned you live near here.”
I feel a flicker of recognition. Aria, my buddy Thorne’s fiancée—the woman who stole his heart in a matter of days—is Savannah’s cousin.
What is it with women in this family absolutely wrecking men they just met?
Savannah is watching me. I know I should invite her inside, but I think having this woman in my home might just drive me over the edge. Hell, having her on my porch is already making me crazy, but it’s cold out, and I can see goosebumps erupting on the exposed skin of her legs.
“Want to come in?” I ask, ignoring my better judgment.
She nods. “Thank you.”
I step aside to let her in the cabin, catching her sweet scent as she passes—strawberries and cream, fruity shampoo.
God, she smells good.
I close my eyes for a second, gritting my teeth as I try to steady myself. I don’t know what this girl has done to me. Hell, I’ve always thought of myself as a strong-willed person, the kind of man who gets shit done and stays in control no matter what.
But Savannah has stripped all that away.
Now I’m a fucking mess: a storm of need and animal impulse, all wrapped up in a body I can’t control.
“This is such a beautiful place,” her sweet little voice says.
I force my eyes open, setting the cherry pie on the coffee table. “Thanks.”
Savannah is hovering near the fireplace, eyeing me anxiously. She’s biting her bottom lip again—seems to be a nervous habit, and it only makes her look more adorable.
“Do you have any plans this afternoon?” she asks eventually.
“No.”
She opens her mouth and closes it again. Then again.
“Okay, so I’m just going to come right out and say it.” She lets out a deep breath, meeting my gaze. “Will you come to my grandma’s birthday party and pretend to be my boyfriend?”
Looks like I was right before: I’m definitely still dreaming.
“I know it sounds weird,” Savannah says quickly, filling the silence, “and I know I have no right to ask any favors from you after yesterday, but I would really love if you could come.”
I cock my head, trying to figure out what the hell is happening. “You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend?”
“Yes.” The word is barely a whisper. She’s fiddling with the sleeve of her dress, avoiding my gaze. “Do you remember what I said yesterday?” she asks. “When I told the lady at the hospital you were my boyfriend?”
I swallow hard, nodding. It’s not something I’ll be forgetting anytime soon.
“Well, it turns out that lady knows my grandma. She told her what I said, and now my family is super excited for me. Heck, Grandma was literally in tears when she heard I found a boyfriend.” She winces, shaking her head.
“I wanted to tell her the truth, but it’s her birthday party today and I just couldn’t bring myself to ruin it for her. She sounded so happy this morning.”
The pieces fall into place as she talks. Cherry Hollow is a typical small town, and I’m not surprised that Savannah’s white lie ended up spreading like wildfire overnight.
“I know it’s a lot to ask,” she says, “but if we could pretend to be dating, just for today, it would mean so much to me.”
“And what happens after today?” I ask, heart pumping.
She blinks up at me. “I’ll just…quietly tell everyone we broke up. They’ll still be upset, but at least it won’t ruin Grandma’s birthday.”
I consider her for a few moments, running everything over in my head.
The cabin feels impossibly quiet, but my mind is loud as hell, reeling with thoughts.
It sounds too damn good to be true—getting to act like Savannah is mine.
But how the hell am I meant to turn it off after one day?
It’s already impossible to keep it together around her, and pretending she’s my girlfriend is guaranteed to push me all the way off the damn cliff.
“Clay?” she asks quietly once the silence starts to drag. “I’m really sorry if I weirded you out. I won’t blame you for saying no. This is my mess, not yours.”
“I’ll do it.”
She looks taken aback. “You will?”
“Yes.”
I knew I’d crack as soon as she asked. Hell, as soon as Savannah showed up on my porch, I knew I’d do anything she wanted. If she told me to drive my truck off the damn mountain, I’d grab my keys and start driving without a second thought.
“Thank you so much, Clay,” she gushes, clasping her hands together. “I promise I’ll make it as easy as possible for you. Just follow my lead and we’ll be okay.”
Her eyes are sparkling with joy and relief. Savannah must care about her grandma a whole lot. Hell, she’s willing to spend the day pretending to date an old grump like me just to avoid disappointing anybody. This girl isn’t just beautiful—she’s also a sweetheart.
Dangerous combination.
“I’m not really dressed for a party,” I mutter, looking down at my dark jeans and blue flannel shirt. “Better get changed.”
“No, don’t get changed,” Savannah says. “You look good.”
She pinkens slightly, like she’s surprised by her own words.
“You look good too, sugar.”
The air thickens around us, Savannah’s lips parting. “Sugar?”
“Just getting into character.”
“Oh.” She nods, breathing hard. “Right. Good.”
She looks adorably flustered, her eyes turning to caramel in the firelight as she looks up at me.
Today, I tell myself.
It’s just for today.
I want to believe I can handle this. I’ve handled war zones, for God’s sake—surely I can handle faking a relationship at a birthday party for a few hours. But as I stare at Savannah, my body thrumming with adrenaline, I’m not even convinced I’ll survive the first minute.