“I guess we fell asleep after all that talking….”
“And kissing,” she giggled.
“Yes. And kissing.” He nipped at her ear as she turned her face toward him. His lips skated across her mouth and she sighed, surrendering to his incredible tongue.
It surprised her that they hadn’t made it past first base. They had touched each other on the outside of their clothes but hadn’t explored anything further. It humored her that they were two grown-ass adults and she was secretly hoping he would steal second.
She pulled back from him, winded, squinting in the morning light. “You want to go back to my place? I can make you breakfast?” Licking her lips, a thought crossed her mind. “Where are you staying, anyway?”
His handsome smile heated her core as he reached up and pulled a small leaf out of her hair. There was no telling what else might be clinging to her body after being outside in the elements all night. “I have a room at the hotel where the reunion was.”
“Oh…” Her heart sank. What if he had to hit the road and get back to Nashville?
“I was going to see my mama today before I head back to Tennessee, but that’s not till bingo this afternoon.”
“Bingo?” She grinned.
“Yeah.” He looked down at their fingers that were entwined together before he looked back up at her with gorgeous eyes. “I got all morning.”
Her smile in that moment matched the rising sun.
***
“I’ll only be a minute,” Clay said, flipping up the lid of his rolling suitcase that sat on a silver luggage rack. He pulled a couple of shirts off hangers and stuffed them in before disappearing into the bathroom.
Katie wandered over to the desk and looked in the large mirror hanging above. She gasped at her reflection, her messy hair, wrinkled blouse, and faint residue of mascara under her eyes catching her off guard. She rubbed the residue off with her index finger and tried to straighten the fabric of her blouse to smooth it out. It was pointless. She really looked like she had spent the night sleeping on an old furniture pad in the back end of a pickup truck. It was a good thing they were at the hotel bright and early before any of their classmates, including Stacey and Brent, had a chance to get up from their drunken reunion. She doubted they’d see anyone this early which was a relief.
“That should do it,” Clay said, coming out of the bathroom with a black shaving kit in his hands. He looked gorgeous after a night in the truck bed with thoroughly tousled, wavy hair. It wasn’t fair that girls had to work harder at keeping up their appearance. She watched him throw the kit on top of his clothes and zip up the suitcase. He leaned into the closet and pulled out a black leather guitar case, hoisting it over his shoulder. “You ready?”
Her heart skipped a beat. He had his guitar with him. Perhaps she could talk him into another serenade at breakfast?
“Sure. You want me to carry anything?”
He smiled while tossing a white keycard onto the dresser. “No, I’m good.”
*
Clay had never felt so alive in his life. He compared what he was feeling to those special moments when a song would entirely come together between the lyrics and the melody. The way the music would fully draw him in and the words would effortlessly come into his mind. The flow of the rhythm pouring out from his fingers as he strummed a guitar; the low timbre of his voice vibrating throughout his body as he sang. He was finally getting to know Katie Parker and was moved by her. He loved the way she looked at him with her big doe eyes, tilting her head trying to figure him out. The way her hips swung when she walked in her heels—the softness of her hand in his. When they kissed for the first time, his heart surged in his chest with intense pleasure; her lips, tongue, and mouth everything he imagined they would be. Holding her in his arms gave him a warm feeling of pure contentment, one that he wanted to keep on repeat.
It was a total fluke that they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms. The whole night had been magical, and his thoughts raced with new song ideas about what he had just experienced. He wasn’t kidding when he told her he had crushed on her in high school. That was another reason why he was drawn to going to the reunion—to see her. Running into her outside the bathroom was a gift from the universe. She was just as pretty as he remembered, perhaps even more beautiful as an adult. Their conversations were staggered at first, and he hated it when he would revert to the debilitating shyness of his youth. It had taken him years to overcome self-esteem issues he suffered as a child. Music and his success as a songwriter certainly helped, but he still had his moments. Looking back on the evening, he was thankful that once he forged ahead with determination to overcome his unease, he and Katie naturally warmed up to each other.
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel while listening to local country radio play one of his hits. It humored him every single time one of his songs would come on the airwaves. To hear his own music being played was always a thrill even though the general public assumed that the artist singing the tune was also the songwriter. He didn’t mind. He preferred to be in the background rather than on the main stage. Sure, he enjoyed playing small halls like the Bluebird Café in Nashville, showcasing his own work, surprising fans with hit after hit. But being front and center in front of thousands of people was not a place he ever aspired to be. The intimacy of creating a song was more his speed. Leave the fame and fanatic fans to the superstars who had grabbed the proverbial brass ring. He was fine with it. He was also pleased with the residual, unfathomable income that came along with owning the rights to his songs. The Georgia Clay wealth that he had accumulated over the years was way more than what a lot of the touring artists made. That kind of tireless, relentless schedule they endured had never been on his radar. He knew he was blessed and never took a day for granted.
Clay followed Katie’s older model BMW in and out of light traffic on the interstate, excited to see where she lived. Her residence wasn’t too far from the highway, in a gated townhome complex near the Perimeter Mall area. He tailgated her car into the secure area and watched as she stretched her arm out the window pointing him toward visitor parking. Mature magnolia and pine trees shaded the complex and colorful begonias and lantana dotted the manicured landscape. When he got out of the truck, she was already approaching him in the parking lot.
“Grab your suitcase so you can freshen up,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Cool.” He grabbed his rolling luggage and his guitar case from the truck cab and walked beside her. The morning was heating up quickly, the humidity already oppressive. “This is a nice place.”
“Thanks.”
“Been here long?” He followed her up a small brick staircase and noticed a pretty grapevine wreath hanging in the center of her front door with bright yellow sunflowers interspersed in the vine.
“About six years. It’s convenient toeverything,” she replied happily as she put a key into the lock. A rush of cool air hit them square in the face as they entered, and a beeping sound could be heard from what he assumed was a home alarm. She punched in a code before clicking on the lamp sitting on a quaint hall table. “Why don’t you leave your guitar down here and I’ll show you to the guest room and bath upstairs where you can shower and change if you want to.”
“That’d be awesome.” He was hoping he could clean himself up after spending the night in the bed of his truck. A change of clothes and a toothbrush in his mouth would be decadent, for sure.
“Here you go.” She turned on the overhead light in a small room that had a full-size bed, a dresser and nightstand. The light was attached to an ornate ceiling fan that turned lazily above them. “There’s a private bath through that closed door. Towels are under the sink.” She looked up at him with her doe eyes that made him swoon. “Please, make yourself at home, Clay. I’m thrilled we get to spend some more time together.”
