19. Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Nineteen
Justin
Sterling City was a small town in the middle of Missouri.
When we drove by the sign that delineated the city limits, I noticed the population: two-thousand and fifty residents.
Growing up in Sweet Springs, which boasted twelve hundred and three residents, the small town where Clay lived wasn’t much different from where I grew up.
Clay turned into the parking lot of a small grocery store on the north side of the town square where the town’s public library and post office surrounded a large, sculpted water fountain. It was a quaint picture befitting a small town in any literary work.
The Sterling City Shop and Go bustled with activity.
The huge yellow-and-orange sign on the brick building was definitely hard to miss.
The store was labeled as the only shopping spot in Sterling City.
I wanted to laugh, but growing up in my own small town, it made sense the owners would use the lack of competition to their advantage.
“Come in with me, will you? Do you mind?”
I certainly hadn’t expected him to ask me to accompany him into the store, but when he did, I wanted to kiss him.
I didn’t act on my impulse because it was his hometown and I had no idea whether the townsfolk knew he was gay.
I’d let Clay lead the way regarding what people did or didn’t know about why we were together.
“I don’t mind at all. Can I get some flowers for your mother? Does she like them, or is she not a fan? Any allergies or anything?”
Clay’s eyes seemed to light up and a sexy grin overtook his face. “My mother would love it if you brought her a simple bouquet. She’s not a fancy gal, but she loves flowers that smell nice. No allergies.”
“Okay, uh, if you’ll help me figure out the right mix for her, I’d appreciate it. I w-want to make a g-good impression with your m-mother. I want her to l-like me.” I was nervous again. I couldn’t help it; I’d never met anyone’s mother before.
“I don’t think you’re going to find my mama will dislike you for any reason. Come on.” Clay took my hand and placed it on the cart, his hand on the small of my back. The warmth from his touch zinged through me.
We headed to the far side of the store to shop for the produce his mother had listed, and I hid my smile as Clay closely scrutinized the vegetables, asking me if I believed he was picking the right carrots, potatoes, and tomatoes, according to his mom’s requirements.
“Do you like apples? Mama makes a hell of an apple pie. If I pick up apples, she’ll make a pie.”
I nodded. “I can make a hell of an apple pie too.”
His surprised expression made me smile. “Oh, yeah? How big is your cooking repertoire?”
I shrugged. “I guess it’s for you to find out.”
Clay laughed as he loaded six large Granny Smith apples into a produce bag.
We worked through his mother’s shopping list and Clay’s own list, and once we put the groceries in the truck, most of them by my feet, we headed toward the farm where Clay and Miss Pansy lived.
Where his dead fiancé hadn’t wanted to live.
“This is beautiful. The fields and the houses are just breathtaking,” I said as Clay drove up a gravel hill that revealed the gorgeous scenery.
“I’m glad you think so. I love this land, and to hear that you see how incredible it is makes me happy.” Clay pulled up to a beautiful, white brick house with black shutters and a bright blue front door. “Let’s take our stuff inside first and then we’ll go to Mama’s place.”
He opened my door and took two of the grocery bags while I took the third and followed him around the ranch house to the back porch and inside.
The kitchen was larger than I expected with cream-colored walls, whitewashed wooden floors, and pine bead board on the bottom half of the walls.
It was beautiful, even though it was decorated a bit sparsely.
The counters were butcher-block and well cared for, and the cabinets were the same cream as the walls.
With a little pop of color, it could be amazing.
“I’ll get our bags out of the truck. Please, make yourself at home, and if you don’t mind, will you put the perishables in the fridge? I’ll be right back.” Without waiting for an answer, Clay was out the back door.
Once I snooped through all the cabinets, I was able to put the groceries away and found where he kept his extra bags.
I glanced out the window toward the fields and noticed how beautiful the view was.
There was a back patio with a gas grill and a small fire pit surrounded by a few chairs.
It all looked very neat and inviting. It was the image of a home I’d dreamed of since I’d lost my parents.
There was a small brick home about fifty yards up a hill that was a smaller version of Clay’s house, which I guessed was his mother’s. To the right of that was a large white building that must have been her studio.
“Sorry it took me so long. I got a call from one of the neighbors about my sorghum harvest. I’ll go take a look at the sorghum fields in the morning and maybe I’ll harvest it while we’re here if you’re okay waiting a few days to go to St. Louis.
I didn’t think to ask if you talked to Steve about being out of the office. ”
I nodded. “I sent him an email that I’ll be working out of the office this week and will be taking vacation next week. Can I go check the sorghum with you? I have no idea what sorghum even looks like.”
That wasn’t true—I’d looked it up online, but seeing a picture of something and seeing it in person were two different things. The conical-shaped tips of the sorghum plants I saw in photos were likely beautiful to see in the field.
“You wanna go? I’d love to show you around. Let’s take the groceries over to Mama’s and get the introduction out of the way. I’ll give you the nickel tour on the way, and then tomorrow morning, you can ride with me out to the sorghum field.” Clay’s glowing grin had me smiling in return.
“That sounds fun. Where’s your restroom? I’d like to, uh, freshen up if we’re going to meet your mother.” I glanced around the kitchen and remembered I’d left the flowers in the truck.
“I left the flowers in the truck. I’ll be right back.”
“I brought them in and put them in a pitcher.” He pointed to the kitchen sink where a glass pitcher was filled with water and the bouquet.
“Now, follow me.” Clay grabbed my suitcase and his garment bag and headed down the hall.
As I followed him, I noticed the walls were filled with framed family photos I’d need to explore another time.
Once we entered the primary bedroom, Clay pointed toward his ensuite before he placed our bags on a bench at the end of a king-sized bed. “Wash cloths and towels are in the cabinet. Look around for anything you need, darlin’, and if you can’t find it, let me know.”
He left me alone in his primary suite, even closing the door behind him to give me privacy. I wasn’t sure what to say or do for an instant, so I walked into his bathroom and braced my hands on the vanity sink.
“Damn, Ramon, I never thought I’d say this, but I wish you were here to give me some advice. You’d know what to say to someone’s mother. You met more than one, I’m sure.”
I turned on the hot water and closed my eyes before bending over the sink and splashing hot water on my face, quickly switching the faucet to cold.
Once I felt refreshed, I reached for a towel.
A touch guided me toward the towel rack where I grabbed the towel to dry my face.
When I opened my eyes, it wasn’t Clay staring back at me.
“How? Why? What are you doing here?” Staring back at me through the mirror with a cocky smirk was Ramon Blanco. And he wasn’t alone. “Dad?” Oh, dear god, I was hallucinating.
“Hi, Justin.” My father was standing next to Ramon in the reflection.
Orren Watkins had been a hell of a father.
He had his own insurance company and tried to teach me how things worked in the insurance game, though it wasn’t really my thing.
I still learned at his knee how to run a successful business.
I appreciated his guidance to this day, and his compassion for his fellow man was immense.
It wasn’t too surprising he was with Ramon.
“Dad, how are you here?” I glanced around to see I was still in the bathroom.
My father grinned. “Well, there’s this clause—it doesn’t matter.
Ramon sought me out to apologize for possessing you.
He seemed genuinely sorry, and when he told me what was happening, I wanted to talk to you.
He’s hoping you’ll give those on the council a reason to believe he’s redeemable. Do you believe he is?”
“Is he redeemable?” I glanced at my father then Ramon. “Are you redeemable? Will you be able to help me find out who killed you?"
Dad chuckled. “Everyone is redeemable, Justin. Ramon is a product of his environment. He was left unsupervised much of the time because his mother worked two and three jobs to keep a roof over their heads. There are so many things that contributed to him becoming the man he was when he was killed, but he’s really not a bad guy.
His choices were informed by the things he witnessed growing up.
I’ve met some members of his family, and they’re not concerned about his eternity, but I am. Maybe you could help him?”
“Dad, how the hell do I do that?”
“Find out who killed him.”
Was he serious? “Any idea how to do that?”
My father smiled. “You’re a smart guy, Justin. You’ve got an amazing man in your corner. The two of you can figure this out.” Dad and Ramon disappeared from the reflection, and suddenly, there was a sharp pain in my head.
“Justin? Darlin’?” The voice was melodic, and I opened my eyes to find Clay smiling down at me. Why was I looking up? What the hell had happened?
“Hello, handsome. Are you okay? I think you hit your head on the towel bar.” Clay’s expression was one of concern. He helped me sit up and grabbed the hand towel from vanity counter to put it over my temple. When he pulled it away, I saw blood.
“Shit.” What else could I say?
“It’s okay. I think you tripped over the rug, which is going into the trash right now. I’m so sorry. Let’s see how bad this is.” Clay lifted the towel from my head. “It’s a small cut. Let me get my first-aid kit, and I’ll get you fixed up.”
“I think I’m okay, Clay.”
The kiss on my forehead calmed me. “Gimme a second, darlin’.”
Clay retrieved a first aid kit from the hall close and went to work on the cut, spreading something that immediately stung.
I hissed.
“I’m sorry it stings but give it a second. Headache?” Clay was concerned, and I didn’t want him to be. I’d be fine, but I was still trying to figure out what the fuck had happened with my father and Ramon Blanco appearing in Clay’s bathroom mirror.
“Not yet.” I hoped to fuck I didn’t get a headache. I’d had enough other shit to worry about.
Clay put a small bandage on my temple and helped me from the floor. “Dizzy?”
“No... Yeah... Maybe? I just saw my father, and Ramon Blanco was with him.”
I expected Clay to give me the look that said I was losing my mind, but instead, he led me out to the bed and helped me sit down on the side, kneeling in front of me. “Is he back inside you?”
“No, but Dad encouraged me to help him. I fear I have PTSD from that whole experience.” That was no lie.
“Okay. If we needed a sign, that certainly seemed to be one. Let’s go to Mama’s with the groceries. I’ll call Mr. Glendale and ask if he’ll come harvest my sorghum, and we can leave in the morning for St. Louis.”
I didn’t want him to change his plans for me. “No, Clay. You don’t have to go to any trouble. Everything will still be there when we get to St. Louis. Waiting two days won’t change anything.”
“You’re sure?” The man was so sincere.
I leaned closer, placing my hands on his shoulders. “I’m positive, you wonderful man. My dad said I had an amazing man in my corner, and I agree one hundred percent.” I pressed my lips to his and the bullshit from earlier melted away.
Our tongues swirled together as his hands settled on my hips before he abruptly pulled back. “Shit! In all of the crap with the groceries, I forgot to get condoms.”
I cracked up. My cock was gaining steam, which would be embarrassing since we were going to Miss Pansy’s house for me to meet her. “Oh, god. I think we’ll be okay.”
He blew out a long breath. “Okay. If you’re still sure. I’ve never gone without.”
That was a surprise. “Never? Not even with...”
“No. Hunter and I never went bareback. He thought it was too messy.”
I kept my thoughts to myself. Hunter must have been a bit of an asshole, but I’d never say it to Clay. I could tell Clay still loved him, and I’d never disrespect Hunter’s memory in his mind.
“We better get goin’ before Mama’s ice cream turns into a milk shake.” He pulled me from the bed and kissed me gently before taking my hand to lead me out of the bedroom.
I wasn’t sure how things were going to go, but the fact he wanted us to meet gave me a confidence boost I sorely needed.