Chapter 9 Clay
CLAY
This would usually be my idea of hell: people everywhere, strangers fussing over me, getting in my business. But it’s all worth it to hold Savannah in my arms. The crowd melts to nothing when I look at her, like we’re the only two people in this tavern.
Bonnie’s friends are crowded around us, everyone asking questions.
Savannah looks overwhelmed, so I squeeze her tight and say all the right things, recounting the grocery store meeting that we invented.
When people ask about my job, my life, my home, I ignore my instinct to tell them to mind their own damn business.
These people matter to Savannah, so I answer every question that gets thrown at me, forcing myself not to act like a grump.
I don’t always manage it.
A lot of my answers are short and blunt, and it’s pretty damn impossible to smooth out my frown. But I think I’m doing okay, and every time I look at Savannah, she smiles gratefully and mouths a thank you.
Getting to hold her close like this feels so damn good. Her curves are soft and warm against me, and she keeps resting her head on my chest, the sweet scent of her hair making me dizzy. Every time she shifts against me, my cock throbs hard, and I grit my teeth, fighting to stay in control.
I’m relieved when the singing starts, and the attention finally shifts away from me and Savannah.
All Bonnie’s friends disperse as everyone sings Happy Birthday at the top of their lungs, and I see Savannah’s cousin, Aria, carrying a giant birthday cake through from the back room.
She sets it on the table in front of Bonnie, and everyone cheers when she blows out the candles.
While everyone’s distracted, I steer Savannah into a quieter part of the tavern. We find an empty corner, and she turns to me with an apologetic wince.
“Sorry I was so useless back there,” she says. “I got all tongue-tied and forgot everything I was meant to say.”
“You weren’t useless, sugar.” We’re facing each other, my hands on her waist again, even though nobody’s looking. “All that matters is that your grandma bought it.”
“Thanks to you.” She smiles up at me. “You were amazing, Clay. They all loved you.”
“Don’t know about that. Felt like I did a lot of grunting.”
Savannah chuckles. “It was all part of the charm.”
“Charm, huh? Not a word people usually associate with me.”
“Well, maybe they should.” Her smile fades to something more earnest. “I like how you don’t waste words, Clay. It feels honest. Grunting included.”
“That so, sugar?” My pulse skitters as I look at her. “Was that your plan all along? Let me grunt at everyone while you stand there looking pretty in that dress?”
She blushes hard. “No, I…”
“I should have told you that sooner.”
“Told me what?”
“That you look pretty. Should have said it before now, ‘cause I’ve been thinking it non-stop.”
Savannah’s lips part. Then she draws back from me, looking down at her feet. “Clay, nobody can hear us over here. You don’t need to pretend right now.”
“Who says I’m pretending?” I close the space between us again. “You look beautiful, sugar.”
We stare at each other for a moment. Savannah looks uncertain, biting her lip like she always does when she’s anxious.
“Maybe we should have some kind of code word,” she says.
“Code word?”
“Yeah.” She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, looking flustered. “This could get a little confusing if we don’t know which words are real and which are just for show.”
“Alright, sugar. Pick a code word.”
“Terminator?”
“Pick another code word.”
She huffs out a laugh. “Okay, how about…buttercup? Like the bakery?”
I grunt in agreement.
“You can only say it after something you really mean,” she says earnestly. “Okay?”
“Fine.” I cross my arms, fixing her with my gaze. “Then I’ll say it again. You look beautiful, buttercup.” I emphasis the last word, savoring the way Savannah blushes, her eyes sparkling up at me.
“Thank you.”
The code word is pretty damn useless to me. I mean every word of what I say to Savannah: every touch, every look, it’s all real. But I’ll happily say “buttercup” a thousand times over if it means she’ll believe me when I call her beautiful.
“We should probably head back out there,” Savannah says. “People might notice if we’re gone too long.”
I nod, taking her hand and guiding her back to the main part of the tavern.
Bonnie is tucking into her birthday cake, laughing about something with her gaggle of friends.
I catch sight of Thorne and Aria in the far corner, wrapped up in their own little world.
Nobody seems to be muttering about me and Savannah anymore, and it’s easier to relax now that I don’t feel like such a fucking spectacle.
“Sav?” a voice calls from behind us as we reach the middle of the room.
I feel Savannah twist beside me, looking around. “Hey!”
I follow her lead, turning to see her hugging a redhead I don’t recognize. Then she pulls back and says, “Josie, this is Clay.”
The redhead looks at me, then back to Savannah. There’s a knowing glint in her eye.
“Nice to meet you, Clay,” she says brightly. “You don’t know me yet, but I’ll probably be maid-of-honor at your wedding.”
Savannah groans. “Please don’t listen to her.”
“I’m just kidding!” Josie laughs, not sounding like she’s kidding at all. “Anyway, it was good to see you both, but I’m on my way out now.”
“Already?” Savannah asks.
“Yeah, sorry I can’t stay longer, but Willa is sick and they’re swamped at the diner. I said I’d help now that I’ve seen Bonnie.” She reaches out to squeeze Savannah’s hand. “Call me later, okay?”
Savannah nods, lowering her voice as she leans toward Josie. “Hey, guess who Clay’s younger brother is.”
“Who?”
“Brewer.”
Josie’s mouth falls open, her face turning the same color as her hair. She looks up at me like I just performed a miracle as she says, “You’re related to Lumbersnack?”
I frown. “The hell is a Lumbersnack?”
Josie slaps a hand to her mouth. “Oh crap. Please don’t tell Brewer I called him that.”
“You know my brother?” I ask.
“No!” Josie squeaks. “Not really. I…sorry, I have to go!” She looks frazzled as she scurries away through the crowd, heading for the door.
“What was that about?” I ask Savannah, trying to figure out what my brother has to do with any of this.
She smiles, shaking her head. “Long story. Don’t ask.”
Then she squeezes my hand, and my questions melt away to nothing. All my focus is on Savannah’s warm fingers, her skin soft against my calloused palm.
“I love this song,” she says with a sigh.
I was too busy looking at her to notice the music, but sure enough, Elvis is crooning overhead, barely audible over the noise.
“Wise men say…
Only fools rush in…”
A few couples are slow-dancing across the floor. I’ve never been much of a dancer—not even back when I had two legs—but I’d do anything for an excuse to hold Savannah against me.
“Want to dance, sugar?”
Her eyes widen as she nods. “Okay.”
I grip her waist, her arms looping around my neck.
She can barely reach, but we make it work, rocking in time to the music.
There’s still too much space between us, and I pull Savannah closer until her thick curves are flush against me.
I can feel the swell of her breasts—every luscious inch of her body pressing on mine—and I have to stifle a groan.
Fuck.
Savannah’s head drops to my chest, and she must be able to hear the thud of my racing heart as our bodies move together. The bulge in my boxers is growing, blood rushing downward. Soon, she’ll be able to feel my hard cock poking against her belly.
But I can’t pull away.
Can’t let go of this perfect angel.
Savannah lifts her head, tilting it back to meet my gaze. Her eyes are soft and warm, and when she smiles, I swear the whole tavern gets brighter. I feel it in my chest, a rush of heat spreading inside me, like sunlight spilling through my veins.
“Grandma and her friends are watching us,” she says, her gaze flitting across the room.
“Let them watch.”
Elvis keeps singing above our heads.
“Like a river flows…
Surely to the sea…”
“We can probably leave soon,” Savannah says. “I think we’ve done enough for them to buy it.”
My jaw clenches. I’m not ready for this to end—not ready to let this girl go.
“I don’t know about that, sugar.”
Savannah frowns. “You don’t know if they bought it?”
“Oh, they bought it. I just think we can make it look more real.”
My face inches toward hers, gaze dropping to her plump red mouth. Her bottom lip is swollen from where she’s been biting it, like a ripe cherry ready to be picked.
“‘Cause I can’t help falling in love with you…”
The song is nearly over—the moment about to snap and disappear forever. I should let it go. Step back from Savannah and end this now. This is another line I can never uncross—another stupid move toward heartbreak.
But I’m too far gone to care.
Savannah has already consumed me. As soon as she hit me with her car, it was over.
When I laid eyes on that sweet face, I knew this woman would wreck me, and deep down, I knew there was nothing I could do about it.
Maybe a better man could restrain himself—but not me.
I want her too fucking badly to hold back.
Our noses brush as I lean in. I can feel her breath fanning my lips, her eyes widening as she realizes I’m not pulling away. I cup Savannah’s cheek as Elvis sings the last line of the song.
“‘Cause I can’t help falling in love with you.”
Then I kiss her.