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Except for Clayton.
And the dogs liked it.
And I had meetings next week with the woman who had been the soul employee of the foundation - a contract book keeper. She’d been without an executive director for years and seemed excited by the prospect of getting back to work.
Somehow, in the span of just a few days, I was building a life back here. Inside the shell of my old one. I didn’t know how to feel about that.
The dogs suddenly lurched awake. Barking and wagging their tails like there was some kind of alarm clock only they could hear. Thelma, who’d been sleeping at my feet, wedged under the desk as if she didn’t know her size, practically pushed me over in my chair to get out from under the desk.
Louise, who’d been sprawled out on the cushioned wicker loveseat like she owned the place, was up and yapping like mad.
“What in the world?” I followed Thelma to the front hallway. Maybe it was Bea, I hoped, and threw open the door.
But it wasn’t Bea.
It was Clayton, dripping wet.
“What—?”
Before I could finish the sentence he was kissing me. His hands held my face still, like I might run. And perhaps, for a split second, I might have. I might have considered it, but as soon as his lips touched mine I grabbed onto his wrists for strength. For balance.
Because the floor had been yanked out from under me. My world turned upside down.
“Invite me in,” he said against my mouth.
“Whaaffit,” I said against his, my brain short-circuited by his scent.
He lifted me off my feet and carried me inside. The dogs danced around us. I felt Thelma’s paws against my back like she was trying to push him out, using me as a battering ram.
“Enough.” He broke the kiss long enough to yell at the dogs and they stopped their yapping.
Thelma growled and Clayton snapped his fingers at her.
And Thelma went quiet.
I leaned back but Clayton didn’t let me go; he was holding onto my face, lifting my chin so he could kiss my neck. I was boneless, nearly brainless. I knew this wasn’t a good idea but…I couldn’t…quite remember…why…
Why was this a bad idea?
Because Clayton kissed me the way a girl dreams a man will kiss her. Like he meant it. Like he needed me. I was the antidote to some great pain.
His hand cupped my breast and I felt myself disintegrating into dust and glitter. How, I wondered, could he do that so fast? Just turn me inside out.
I pushed his coat off his shoulders. The wet trench coat made a heavy thump on the floor. The lean muscles of his waist were hot beneath his shirt and I pressed my whole hand against him, like he was a fire I wanted to get close to.
He was a fire. And I’d been burned once before.
“Stop,” I said.
He stopped. But he was still holding me. Touching me. His breath warmed my throat and I had to push myself away, even when I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
“What…are you doing here?”
“I was in the neighborhood.”
I laughed at his joke but his face implied he wasn’t joking.
My fingertips touched the creases between his eyes. He seemed stressed. And sad. “Seriously. What are you doing here?”
For a long time, he just…looked at me.
I turned my face away, lifting my shoulder like I could hide.
But he wouldn’t let me. And it was almost painful how much I wanted to fix my ponytail and twitch my shirt into place around my body so my tummy was hidden away.
“I wanted to see you,” he said. “That’s all.”
That was all?
“It’s Sunday,” I said.
“I know.”
My breath shuddered and our bellies touched.
“The other night was a mistake,” I said, and his dark eyes bored into mine.
“You don’t believe that,” he said.
“I do.”
“No. You want it to be true. It would be easier for you if it was true. But it wasn’t a mistake. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life and touching you has never been one of them.”
“I don’t…know what to do when you say things like that.”
“Believe them. That’s all you have to do.”
He said it like it was easy. To believe the man that hurt me. To just let it all go and believe what my body wanted me to believe.
“Let me…” He breathed against my skin. “Just…let me touch you.”
And then, instead of kissing me, he put his arms around my back and…hugged me.
That was all. A hug. Our bodies pressed tight together. I could feel his erection against my belly but he wasn’t doing anything about it. His breath, when he exhaled, hitched a little and I realized that he was upset.
About what I had no idea.
But he came to my door because he was upset.
Carefully, I lifted my arms up over his shoulders, his shirt cool against the bare skin of my wrists.
