10. Ayla

10

AYLA

T he tires crunch against gravel as Kip eases the truck into a spot in the bustling bank parking lot. I’m sitting in the back, beside Piper’s car seat, with Shadow resting his head on my lap.

“Okay, we’re here,” Clay announces, putting the truck in park. “Kip, you mind staying with Piper and the pup while Ayla and I run inside?”

“You know, I can just stay out here too,” I offer. “No need for me to go in.”

“You sure?” Clay asks. “It might be a good idea to set up an account with a local bank, so you have somewhere to deposit those checks.”

That’s true… Kyle has access to my current account anyway, and I don’t need him stealing any more of my money.

“I’ll come in.” I give Shadow one last pat before reaching for the door handle. Clay slides out of the driver’s seat and walks around to my side, holding the door open with a gallant flourish.

“After you, m’lady,” he teases, lightening the mood.

Rolling my eyes playfully, I hop down from the truck, feeling a touch more at ease. Clay and I head towards the bank entrance.

As we step through the glass doors, a blast of cool air hits my face, a stark contrast to the sweltering heat outside. The bank lobby bustles with activity - customers line up at the tellers’ windows, their chatter mingling with the clacking of keyboards and the soft whoosh of the air conditioning.

I pause for a moment, taking in the scene. The last time I was in a bank, it was with Kyle, and the memory makes my stomach clench. His vice-like grip on my arm, the thinly veiled threats muttered under his breath... I shake my head, trying to dispel the unwanted images.

Clay’s hand on the small of my back startles me out of my reverie. “You alright?” he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear.

I nod, not trusting my voice. We make our way towards the “New Accounts” sign, weaving through the throng of people. As we walk, I can’t help but notice the curious glances thrown our way. Clay, with his chiseled jawline and confident stride, draws more than a few appreciative stares from the women in line.

“Quite the celebrity, aren’t you?” I tease, nudging him with my elbow.

He chuckles, the sound deep and rich. “Nah, they’re probably just wondering what a guy like me is doing with a knockout like you.”

I snort, feeling a blush creep up my neck. “Smooth talker.”

We reach the new accounts desk, and I take a deep breath, steeling myself. The banker, a middle-aged woman with a kind smile, looks up at us expectantly.

“Hi, I’d like to open a new account, please.” My voice sounds stronger than I feel.

As the banker nods and pulls out the necessary paperwork, I glance over at Clay. He gives me an encouraging smile.

“I’m assuming both of you will be under this account?” the banker asks.

“Both of us?” I repeat, frowning.

She smiles. “Most of our married couples like to open up joint accounts.”

I can feel my cheeks heating up. “Oh, we’re not married!” I correct her quickly. “He’s just a…” I trail off for a moment, trying to think of what to introduce him as…boss sounds kind of cringy. “Friend.”

“Oh!” the woman exclaims. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume. The two of you do make such a fine couple.”

I swallow and purse my lips but don’t response.

Thankfully, she doesn’t say anything else about it. She hands me a folder of paperwork, and the next thirty minutes are spent filling out forms, providing identification, and answering questions I never thought I’d have to deal with at twenty-two.

Finally, we finish up the paperwork, and the banker returns with a bright smile. “There you go, Ms. Parks. Your new account is all set up. Here’s your debit card and PIN.”

I take the glossy card, running my thumb over the raised letters, relief washing over me. “Thank you so much.”

“And for you, sir?” the banker asks, turning her attention to Clay.

“I’d like to make a withdrawal, please. Fifteen hundred in cash. Clay Abbott.” He takes out his ID and slides it over for her to look at.

The banker nods, tapping away at her keyboard. “Certainly. I’ll just need to grab that from the back. Give me one moment.” She disappears through a door behind the counter, leaving Clay and me alone.

“So,” Clay begins, his tone light and teasing. “Quick to clarify that we’re not together, huh?” His eyes dance with mischief.

I shrug, trying to play it cool despite the heat rising in my cheeks. “Well, we’re not, are we?” I meet his gaze, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

“True,” he concedes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I just figured, with how quick you were to deny it, you must have a boyfriend or something.”

I laugh, the sound a little too loud in the quiet bank. “No, no boyfriend.” I shake my head, a wry smile on my lips. “Relationships aren’t exactly my top priority right now.”

Clay nods, his expression thoughtful. “I get that. Sometimes you just need to focus on yourself, you know?”

“Exactly.” I’m surprised by the understanding in his voice. “I’ve got enough on my plate without adding a guy to the mix…well, a guy that isn’t my boss.”

He chuckles, the sound warm and rich. “Well, their loss.” His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I’m lost in their depths.

The banker returns, a stack of crisp bills in her hand. “Here you are, Mr. Abbott. Fifteen hundred, as requested.” She hands the money to Clay with a smile.

“Thanks.” He hands me the money, slipping his wallet out to put his ID away. I quickly put the money in my purse. I’ve never had so much cash in my hands before and I don’t want to lose it. “Ready to go?”

I nod, gathering up my new debit card and the folder of account information.

As we head towards the door, I can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. Opening this account and taking control of my finances - it’s a small step, but an important one to the new life I want to live.

As we step out into the sunlight, Clay’s shoulder brushes against mine. A tingle runs down my spine at the contact, and I glance up at him, trying to read his expression.

“I still can’t believe you don’t have a boyfriend.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. “Believe it, buddy. I’m flying solo these days.”

“Hm.”

As we walk towards the truck, I bump my shoulder against his playfully. Two can play at this game. “Why you offering to fill the position?” The words slip out before I can stop them.

Clay’s eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn’t say anything; just lets a slow grin spread across his face.

As we settle into the truck, I can’t help but sneak a glance at Clay. His profile is strong, his jaw clenched in concentration as he starts the engine. I wonder what he’s thinking if he felt that same spark I did.

“So,” Kip says, breaking the silence. “Where to next?”

I tear my gaze away, focusing on the dashboard in front of me. “Target,” I reply, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “It’s the perfect place to get all of the stuff we need for Piper’s room.”

Kip nods, pulling out of the parking lot. “Target it is.”