Page 74 of Wild and Wanted

Her smile was the sweetest. ‘I’d like that.’

The front door was nearby and Clay crowded her gently backwards, bumping her into it as he lowered his head to kiss her, his body pressed to hers, his hands bracketing either side of her head. She leaned into him, raising on her tiptoes and moaning, which slithered like the scrape of a fingernail down his dick.

God… he was never going to get out of here if they kept doing this.

With a giant effort he pulled out of the kiss, his hands still planted either side of her head. ‘It’s going to be a very long day.’

She smiled and it was smug as fuck, and it looked good on her.

‘About today.’ Her fingers smoothed up his shirt, toying with the open buttons at his neck, her expression serious now. ‘Would it be okay if we kept this… thing just between the two of us? I’m not ashamed of it or anything and I don’t regret it,’ she hastened to add. ‘It’s just that everyone in the country seems to know so much about me and it’d be nice to keep this private.’

‘Of course.’ His hands moved from the door to cup her face. Since leaving the circuit he’d refused any and all media approaches to talk about his derailed career or his injury or his chances of a comeback. ‘I don’t want anyone knowing our business either.’

She huffed out a sigh. ‘Thank you.’

She went to kiss him again but Clay shook his head with a laugh. ‘No way.’ He grabbed the door knob and twisted. ‘You’re too tempting.’

Swooping his arm around her waist, he pulled her away from the door as he swung it open, walking her outside with her clinging to him, laughing and kissing her despite the temptation because he couldn’t remember the last time he felt this damn happy. Until he broke off the kiss and discovered his father was standing still as a statue on the porch stairs.

Well… fuck.

‘Surprise,’ John Calhoun said, looking between the two of them, his lips twitching.

‘Hey,’ Clay said, noticing his father’s horse tethered to the porch railing, which explained why he didn’t hear a vehicle approaching.

‘Oh, hey, Mr Calhoun.’ Stevie’s voice was high as she stared askance at his father.

‘I think John’ll be fine,’ he murmured, the smile kicking up slightly before he turned his attention to Clay. ‘Your mom texted a few times to see whether you wanted some breakfast sent up.’

Damn it. Why hadn’t he checked the content of his texts? When he was first back from the hospital, Clay’s appetite had not been great and many mornings breakfast had arrived on his doorstep whether he’d wanted it or not.

‘I volunteered to bring it as I was going past.’ He brandished the brown paper bag in his hand before passing it to Clay.

‘Ah… thanks,’ he said taking it on autopilot.

John Calhoun tipped his hat at Stevie, bidding her a polite goodbye before eyeing Clay. ‘See you later, son.’

He turned away then, unhitching his horse and mounting it before turning it around and clopping calmly away.

‘Oh God.’ Stevie’s hand clutched her stomach. ‘So much for keeping this to ourselves.’

‘It’s okay.’ He slid his hands onto her upper arms, meeting her gaze. ‘Dad’s not going to say anything to anyone.’

‘He’ll tell your mom, though.’

Oh shit. ‘Yeah…’ He sighed. ‘Probably.’

She rubbed her forehead as she stared past his shoulder. ‘What if she… disapproves, or thinks… I’m using you. I mean, I suppose I am, right? Or what if she thinks that it’s more than it is, like… something serious?’ She turned panicked eyes on him. ‘I have to leave here in two weeks, Clay. I have a tour and an agent and a record label and responsibilities to fans and my mother⁠—’

She cut off abruptly like just thinking about her mother was frying her brain, and Clay smiled calmly, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze. ‘My mom is not going to think any of those things. For a start, she already thinks you’re fantastic but more than that, she knows, as my father does, that I am a grown man and this is none of their business.’

‘So they’ll just be… cool with it?’

‘In a nutshell, yes. And I’ll talk with them about how we’re keeping this on the down low as well as managing their expectations.’

He didn’t think that would stop them weighing in with an opinion but he wasn’t going to tell her that when his assurances were clearly what she needed.

‘Yeah?’