“Happy Birthday, Grandma.”
As she pulls away from me, Clay nods his head. “Happy Birthday, ma’am.”
“Ma’am, schma’am, honey. You go right ahead and call me Bonnie.” She throws her spindly arms around him, like a chipmunk hugging a bear. Then she pulls back, eyeing him warmly, like a long-lost relative. “It’s been a while. I still remember you and your brother drinking in my tavern like it was yesterday. A neat whiskey every Saturday night when you were on leave.”
Clay raises a thick eyebrow. “I’m impressed you remember. That was years ago.”
“Never forget a customer, honey.” She beams at him, then at me. “Gah, you look so damn cute together. I couldn’t be happier for you both.”
My throat is dry, my tongue slow and heavy. Grandma’s friends are heading toward us, eyes glowing with curiosity.They’re all sweet ladies, but right now, I can’t help feeling like I’m being circled by hungry sharks.
Clay doesn’t miss a beat.
“Thanks, Bonnie,” he says. “I’m a lucky man.”
Then he bends down, his beard brushing my skin as he presses a kiss on the top of my head. I stop breathing. My knees go weak, and I turn my head to look at Clay. He’s standing so close that I have to tilt my head back to meet his gaze, and I shiver when those vivid blue eyes meet mine.
Grandma’s friends are closing in. They’re fussing over us, talking excitedly, but I can’t hear a word they’re saying. The way Clay is looking at me right now has turned the whole world silent.
He’s looking at me like I belong to him.
A fierce possessiveness burns in his eyes as he lifts his free hand to my red-hot cheek, brushing my skin. His thumb glides down to my mouth, running over my bottom lip. He looks like he wants to devour me. Eat me whole.
From somewhere far away, I hear one of Grandma’s friends chuckle. “I don’t think they can hear us, Bonnie.”
“He’s just like Rafe,” another one says. “My grandson is like a man possessed when he’s around his wife.”
“My Lincoln is the same. He’s a sweetheart, but when Daisy got pregnant, he was almost feral! Like a guard dog with fangs.”
“Thorne is the same with Aria,” I hear Grandma say. “He’s totally obsessed, and it’s only been a few weeks.”
“Well, you know what they say. Lumberjacks love hard.”
“And fuck even harder.”
“Dorothy!” someone exclaims as the rest of them cackle.
“What? I should know! My husband was a lumberjack back in the day.”
Their voices tune out again—a radio station turning to static. Clay is still staring at me, eyes molten, making it impossible tocontrol my wildly beating heart. It feels like it might punch a hole in my chest.
It’s fake,my brain screams.Don’t fall for it!
Clay doesn’t have feelings for me. He’s just doing me a favor by pretending to be my boyfriend for the day. I shouldknowthat. Heck, we just spent hours preparing for this, readying ourselves for this whole charade. But the way he’s looking at me has sent all my logical thoughts flying out the window.
Oh God.
I was scared this would happen—scared I wouldn’t be strong enough to separate fact from fiction. Now the lines are already blurring in my mind, and my oversensitive heart is taking the wheel. I don’t want Clay to see how much this is getting to me, but as he squeezes my waist, I can’t help shivering against him.
I wish he wasn’t so good at this.
9
CLAY
This would usually bemy idea of hell: people everywhere, strangers fussing over me, getting in my business. But it’s all worth it to hold Savannah in my arms. The crowd melts to nothing when I look at her, like we’re the only two people in this tavern.
Bonnie’s friends are crowded around us, everyone asking questions. Savannah looks overwhelmed, so I squeeze her tight and say all the right things, recounting the grocery store meeting that we invented. When people ask about my job, my life, my home, I ignore my instinct to tell them to mind their own damn business. These people matter to Savannah, so I answer every question that gets thrown at me, forcing myself not to act like a grump.
