14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

C lark and Cleo sprang apart like two tweens caught making out in the basement. Clark wasn’t about to kiss her, was he? Cleo’s head felt fuzzy and she wanted to dissect what just happened until she remembered why nothing had happened. Dottie’s announcement.

Clark recovered faster than she had. Clearing his throat he said, “Wow, Dottie, that’s incredible!”

Cleo added her congratulations, and Dale joined them on the porch with a shy smile. He put his arm around Dottie’s waist, a little starstruck but proud. Dottie again flung her arms around his neck and held on for dear life. Cleo hoped Dale knew what he was getting himself into with that wild one.

The foursome finally sat down to eat and it was delicious even after being reheated. Dottie carried the conversation while Dale stared mooney-eyed at her. Cleo kept sneaking glances at Clark without meaning to. It was like he was the tractor beam in Star Wars and she was the Millennium Falcon. She couldn’t help her gaze being drawn to him again and again. Once she caught him peeking at her too, but they both looked away so quickly that she didn’t know if it was a good look or a you’ve-got-food-on-your-face look. She wiped her mouth to be safe.

“Let me show you where y’all will be sleeping tonight.” Dottie motioned them to the stairs and slowly began climbing. Clark and Cleo grabbed their bags and followed her up. “Dale and I will be downstairs, I guess.” She paused as if she needed a moment to let that sink in. “I wish that I had enough rooms for you to each get your own, but I turned this one into a sewing room long ago.”

Cleo popped her head around the doorframe of the room Dottie gestured to. It had sewing paraphernalia strewn over every surface, and definitely no bed. Her stomach sank when she realized what Dottie was telling them. She was going to have to share a room with Clark. They followed her to a room across the hallway that held a queen-sized bed. Singular. One bed, not two. Cleo would’ve even been down to take a top bunk if it meant she’d get her own bed. She thought she caught a smug smirk on Dottie’s face, but when she looked again it was gone. “Y’all can share this room,” she said.

Cleo knew there’d been a smirk. “I can take the couch–”

“You know, I’m fine on the floor,” Clark said at the same time.

“Don’t be silly.” Dottie took the bags out of their hands and set them on the comforter covered in yellow flowers with big black centers. Black-Eyed Susans, presumably. “There’s no reason why you shouldn’t be able to share a bed like roommates. Hmmm?” She peered over her glasses at each of them, looking smug again. They were trapped, and she knew it. If they refused, they’d look like there was something going on. But if they didn’t, then they had to sleep next to each other. Dottie might be a little crazy, but she wasn’t stupid. She’d teased them about sleeping in the same bed the first night, and now she was trying to orchestrate it, the evil genius. Cleo was not amused. “‘Night, y’all!” Dottie called as she headed back the way she’d come.

The bedroom had an en suite bathroom that Cleo excused herself to use first. Clark had to turn sideways for her to squeeze past him, and even then her shoulder brushed his chest. He sucked in a breath at the contact and moved away as soon as she passed him. Perhaps he was as affected by Cleo as she was by him.

Cleo turned the water on before using the toilet. If she was going to have to use the bathroom with Clark just outside the door, she was going to try to mask as many sounds as she could.

How did she get here? A few days ago she’d been wearing someone’s ring, about to commit her life to him, even though she could barely stand him. The next day she met a man who she thought she couldn’t stand, but who was turning out to surprise her at every turn. And she was getting “countryfied” to boot! She didn’t even mind her shapeless clothes anymore! In some ways they were more comfortable than the designer outfits she usually wore. She may never go back to haute couture again.

Cleo spent the next ten minutes getting ready for bed and cataloging everything that had annoyed her about Clark when they first met. She needed to remember the bad things because she absolutely could not let herself fall for him. But no matter how hard she tried to think about Clark’s faults, they got twisted in her brain until all she could focus on were the things she liked. He towered over her, but she could only think how safe it made her feel next to him. His grumpy face easily morphed into one that took a lot of effort to win a smile from, but when she did it was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds.

He’d seemed severe and ungenerous, but his actions from the past two days had proven that to be untrue and, in fact, completely opposite. She’d been wrong about all of it. So much for first impressions.

Cleo came out in her sweats and t-shirt to find Clark typing something on his phone. Was that guilt she spied on his face when he saw her watching him? He stuffed the phone quickly into his pocket, then took some clothes and toiletries into the bathroom.

Cleo ran a brush through her hair while she pondered what to do. She couldn’t sleep on a couch downstairs without giving Dottie the satisfaction of knowing how much he affected her, but could she squeeze onto the floor between the bed and the wall? She’d never once slept on the floor in her life and wasn’t sure she’d get any sleep if she tried, but wouldn’t that be preferable to sharing a bed with Clark?

She was making a pile of blankets on the floor when Clark emerged from the bathroom.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m making up my bed.”

He scowled. “You’re not sleeping on the floor.”

“Well, I’m not sleeping next to you.”

“Why not?” One eyebrow raised. “Can’t keep your hands off me?”

Cleo scoffed. “I’d be more afraid of you trying something with me.”

“I have no problem whatsoever with sharing a bed with you tonight. Besides, if I was going to try something, I could get to you on the floor just as easily as on the bed.”

Cleo’s hackles raised. “Well, what if you rolled over onto me in the night or something?”

“I don’t move in my sleep.” Cleo begged to differ. She’d seen it the first night. Clark’s head tilted and his eyes narrowed. “You’re scared to sleep next to all my manliness.

“All your manliness?”

“Yes,” he gestured from his head to his feet. “You can’t handle all of this, can you?”

“Oh, I can handle it,” she fired back.

“Prove it.”

“Fine.” Cleo threw her pillow and blankets back onto the bed and arranged them. “But I’m using my own covers.”

“Please do.”

Clark walked to the light switch and asked, “May I?” Cleo nodded and the light flipped off.

Cleo didn’t love sleeping in strange rooms, but this one didn’t feel sinister with the lights out. Maybe knowing that Clark was there with her put her at ease. Strange that she would feel comfortable with him in bed with her, not the opposite. She felt his weight settle onto the mattress as he slid the covers over his body.

“You comfortable?” he asked, his voice soft and low.

“Mmhmm,” she murmured. “You?”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

“Can you believe Dottie and Dale?”

He chuckled. “Actually, I’d find it harder to believe if they didn’t get together. They’re perfect for each other. He’s reserved and she’s…”

“Not?” Cleo supplied and Clark smiled. “You’re a closet romantic, aren’t you?”

“Ha. If by that you mean I believe two people can find happiness together, then yes.”

Cleo’s eyes were finally adjusting to the darkness. She could make out the faint lines of the closet and window. The moon was a small sliver in the sky and the darkness enclosed them like a blanket. She burrowed into her blankets, loving how safe she felt right now. “You asked me last night if I’d ever get married, but I didn’t hear your answer.”

Clark didn’t respond for several moments. “Have I ever thought about getting married? Sure, if I met the right girl.”

“What does the right girl for you look like?”

“I don’t really care what she looks like. Black, blue, brown, red, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“I meant, what would she be like?” Cleo held her breath until he spoke.

“She’d have to be pretty chill,” he finally said. “I have a crazy schedule, and she’d have to be okay with me working odd hours.” He adjusted his pillow. “I’d hope she’d like my sisters and not care how nosey they are. And it would be great if she laughed at my jokes.”

“What jokes?”

“Har har. I can be funny sometimes.”

Cleo smiled into the dark.

He continued. “I want to have kids, so hopefully that’s something she’d want, too.”

“How many kids?”

“I’m not picky. Eight or ten maybe?”

“Look at that: you can be funny!”

Clark chuckled and then a pillow smacked Cleo’s face, shocking her for a moment. She recovered quickly, grabbing it out of Clark’s hands to return the favor. They wrestled over it but Clark was clearly stronger. They were caught in a tug-a-war, and before she knew what was happening, he’d pulled her up onto him, the pillow smashed between their bodies. They instantly stopped moving. Cleo’s body was flush against Clark’s from her feet to her chest, with only a flimsy pillow separating them. His breath was warm on her forehead and there were only inches between their mouths. Clark’s gaze darted between her eyes and her mouth as her heart began galloping in her chest. Could he feel that? Was his heart pounding, too? She’d pay big money to know what was going through his head right now. She didn’t need to wait long to find out.

Cleo saw the moment he made up his mind. Before she could react, Clark closed the distance between them. His mouth collided into hers as his arms came around her.

Cleo remained paralyzed as Clark’s mouth explored hers. Even though her body was frozen, she noted that somewhere in her muddled brain there was a part of her that was enjoying the crap out of this kiss. Clark’s lips were soft and warm, and his nose was a little cold. He had scruff on his jaw that faintly rubbed against hers. The scruff wasn’t unpleasant at all. It served to mobilize her into action. Cleo softened into him and started to kiss him back. This felt so right. Why had they taken so long to do this? She hadn’t realized until now how much she’d been wanting to kiss him. So much nicer than kissing Jameson.

Jameson! All at once her rational side kicked her in the pants, waking her up to what was happening. She was kissing Clark! And enjoying it! She’d been engaged to Jameson until a couple days ago. They hadn’t even spoken since, and Cleo was already making out with another guy? Oh geez.

Breaking contact and shoving off Clark, he made a noise of protest but didn’t reach for her again. His breaths were heavy as they lay next to each other, both a bit in shock over what had happened. Cleo shook off the paralysis and sat up, grabbing at the sheets and pillows around her to build a barricade in the middle of the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“Building a wall.”

“Building a wall?”

“Yeah, we can call it…the Wall of Jericho or something.”

Clark stared at her, slack-jawed like she was a crazy person. Maybe she was. “And if I happen to find a trumpet in this old house, can I blow it down?”

“No, Joshua, you cannot.”

“A barricade is really not necessary,” Clark complained. “That won’t happen again.”

“The fact that it happened at all makes it necessary.”

“Have it your way.”

“I will.” She finished the wall and once she was convinced that she wouldn’t be able to accidentally roll over it in the night, she lay still once more, watching the breeze rustle the curtains as it came in the window.

Clark was quiet for a minute before saying, “I’m…sorry.”

Cleo said nothing. She rolled away from him, squeezed her eyes shut, and willed herself into oblivion.