Chapter 3
“I think I’m going to explode,” Harper said, driving with her knees as she unzipped her jeans and pulled her blouse over the zipper.
Clay’s eyes were stuck on the part of her blouse covering the zipper she’d just unzipped.
Harper glanced his way. “Problem?” she asked.
“No. Not at all.”
“It was really thoughtful of you to order two to-go boxes so we could put that second pizza in them.”
“I wanted us to both have left overs for midnight when we’re wandering through our kitchens trying to figure out what we can eat. It’s the whole reason I order a second pizza. There was no way there’d be any left of the first one between the two of us.”
“You do that, too?”
“What? Midnight snacking?” he asked. “All the time.”
“I don’t usually admit to it, or eat as much as I did when I’m out in public, because I’m a girl and it’s apparently frowned upon,” she said, mimicking someone from the north with extreme social graces when she said frowned upon.
“But, I feel like I can just be me when I’m with you. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course, it’s okay. I insist that you do.”
“Good.”
“I hope that thing with the waitress didn’t ruin your night. It just really got to me.”
“Not at all. And I left her a twenty dollar tip, so I’m sure she’s over it, too, anyway,” Harper said.
“You gave her twenty bucks after I paid?” he asked exasperatedly.
“Yep. You might have scarred her for life. It was the least I could do.”
Clay laughed. “She shouldn’t be coming onto males like that. Especially when they have a woman sitting with them. It’s pretty shitty the way she disrespected you.”
“If I’d been your girlfriend, as you claimed I was,” she said, smirking and giving him some side-eye, “I’d have made my place known. But you’re not. So, it wasn’t my place.”
“Feel free to step in if anything like that happens again. It really just…” he stopped speaking searching for the right word.
“Pissed you off. I know. It’s probably because you met the girl that’s going to be your mate. I’ll protect you until you claim her, though. Promise. No big bad waitresses will make you feel icky.”
They both dissolved into laughter.
“Can I ask you something?” she asked.
“Sure.”
“We talked about me. We talked about my parents, the horses, my family and the damned trees. But you never said a word about yourself. How’s school? Do you like it? I never hear you talk about it like Cruz and Bastian do. Though Bastian’s tales are usually about women and football.”
Clay sighed as he thought about his answer. “Can I be honest?” he asked, looking over at her as she drove them through the darkness toward his home.
“Please do — always.”
“I hate it. School was not something I ever wanted to do. I enrolled due to a lack of other options.”
“Lack of options?!” she asked.
“Well, not options, I could have done whatever I wanted to do, I just didn’t know what that was.
They offered me a scholarship, so I didn’t feel like I was wasting the college fund my parents saved for me.
So I went. Sebastian was going, so I’d have somebody I knew there.
I didn’t want to stay here and work at the restaurant.
I could have worked construction with the Pride and I do during the summers, but it’s not what I wanted for a lifetime, I honestly just didn’t know what else to do. So I went to college.”
“You’re a business major, right?”
“Yep. I figured whatever it is that I finally do, I’ll need to know business whether I’m building my own, or working for somebody else,” he said flatly.
“You still don’t know what you want to do, do you?”
“Last week, no. But I believe I’m figuring it out now.”
“Really? What is that you want to do?”
“Can’t tell you.”
“Seriously? You know I won’t tell.”
“Tell you what… as soon as I know for sure, you’ll be the first one I tell.”
“Promise?” Harper asked.
“Absolutely,” Clay said. Then he thought about it for a few more seconds. “Or maybe second, after my parents.”
“I can live with second if they’re first,” Harper said, smiling his way.
They rode along quietly for a few miles.
“I’m really glad you came with me today. I had fun. I don’t know why we never really hung out before,” Harper said.
“We did at family stuff.”
“Yeah, but not any other time. We should have. It was nice.”
“It really was. I hope we can do it more often,” Clay said.
“Me, too. I don’t want it to end,” she said, laughingly.
“Who knows, maybe you’ll see me tomorrow, too. I had an amazingly good day, and it was all because of you. Thank you for letting me tag along.”
“Anytime.”
“You going back to the center tomorrow?”
“Yes. Sundays I get to spend all day there. Sunday is the day we are all off from working at the farm. All we do is check the water lines and make sure the irrigation is good, and we’re done for the day. So I get to spend all day with the horses.”
“Miss Millie will be happy about that,” Clay said.
“Yes, she will. She’s gorgeous isn’t she?”
“She is. Is she a particular breed of horse?”
“She’s an Andalusian. They’re a little more hot-blooded than most of the others boarded there.”
“Hot-blooded?”
“Spicier. More passionate and easily worked up.”
“Makes sense. She certainly can’t be ignored.”
“No, she can’t,” Harper said as she pulled into the trailer park and pulled up beside his parents’ mobile home.
“Hey, mind if I ask about the horse that started all this? The one you caught at your house when he got loose.”
“Festus,” she said as the memory softened her smile.
“Festus?” he asked.
“Well, his name was Hephaestus. But I called him Festus.”
“Like the Greek god of fire and forge?”
“Yes!” she said, surprised he knew that. “He was a draft horse, a Percheron. And despite their usually easy going and mild temperament, Festus was fiery.”
Clay laughed. “You seem to be drawn to fiery horses.”
“I guess,” she said, shaking her head. “But I loved that horse so very much. I miss him every day.”
“What happened to him?”
“He was boarded at the Bigsby’s. He was there for about six years and every day I worked him out, loved on him and talked to him after I finished all my duties.
Then one day I showed up to work, and he was gone.
Mr. Bigsby told me the owners came to pick him up, they were moving out of state.
He said he tried to buy him to keep him there, but they didn’t want to leave him behind. ”
“Oh, honey. I’m sorry.”
“Me, too. He was my first broken heart.”
“Who was your second broken heart?” Clay asked.
“Let’s not get into that. It’s a really long story and not something I’ve ever shared.”
“One day?” Clay asked.
“Maybe. I make no promises!” she said. “Now get out of my car so I can go home and get ready to eat my pizza at midnight.”
Clay laughed as he opened the door and got out. “What did Festus look like?” he asked.
“He was a dark gray with lighter dapples of gray all through his coat. He is absolutely gorgeous. Is, not was. I insist on believing that he’s out there somewhere living his best life.”
“Not without you,” Clay said.
Harper smiled. “Yeah.” She picked up his box of leftovers and held it out to him. “I’ll be thinking about you at midnight. I’ll even toast you with a slice of pizza!”
“Same!” he said. “Drive safe, Harper. And would you mind letting me know you made it home okay?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, but, I’ll sleep better knowing you’re where you’re supposed to be and not broken down somewhere.”
“Believe me, if I broke down, my daddy would know.” She held up her phone and showed it to him. “They track me. They always know. But I will shoot you a text anyway.”
“Thank you. And thanks for today.”
“Same. Sleep well, Mr. Soon-to-be mated.”
“Hey! I never said that, and keep that to yourself.”
“They’ll never get it out of me,” she whispered.
“Bye,” he said, stepping back and watching as she slowly made her way around the drive and exited out the other side of the trailer park. He watched as her taillights faded, then turned to go inside. But he stopped in his tracks when his gaze met his father’s.
“Long day,” Richie said.
“Yeah. But a good day. A very, very good day.”
Richie nodded as he watched his son walk toward him.
“That pizza I smell?”
“It is. You can have some, but not all. I’m eating about half at midnight.”
“I’ll take the other half now,” Richie said, following him into the house.
“Where’s mom?” Clay asked as they went into the kitchen.
“She’s out cold. Had a busy day at the party.”
Clay nodded as he took a plate out of the cabinet and put a couple of pieces of pizza on it before popping it into the microwave for a few seconds.
“Whoa, whoa, don’t do that,” Richie said.
“What? I’m warming it for you.”
“Put it in the air fryer. It comes out like it was just made.”
“I don’t know how to do that.”
“Watch and learn, son,” Richie said, teasing him as he pushed him gently out of the way to put the pizza into the air fryer.
Clay put his pizza into the fridge after he watched his dad set the air fryer so he’d know how to do it later, then he leaned against the counter top and waited with his father for the timer to go off.
“You alright? You seem thoughtful,” Richie said.
“Yeah, pretty much. Just like you said, thinking.”
Richie nodded to himself, giving his son room and time to think his way through whatever it was that was bothering him.
The timer buzzed, letting Richie know the pizza was ready.
“That’s it, it’s already ready? What, two or three minutes?” Clay asked.
“It’s still a little warm. I just wanted to get the crust crispy again. If you use the air fryer later, put it in for about five minutes if you’re taking it out of the fridge.”
“Alright,” Clay said.
Richie took a seat at the table
Clay sat down across from him.
Richie took a bite of pizza and watched Clay as he chewed, waiting for Clay to decide to reveal whatever it was that had him not quite himself tonight.
“Could we talk?” Clay finally asked.
“Yes. You already know that. Whatever you need, I’m here.”
Clay nodded, then he fidgeted a little trying to decide where to start. Finally he just blurted it out. “I’m not happy.”