Chapter 18

[Mavis]

Nothing surprises me more than when Clay exits his bedroom, wearing the VillainMan costume from Princess Power .

“Dutton, look!” I choke, as he has his back to the hallway when Clay enters the living room. From his position on the couch, Dutton does a double take, then jumps up on the cushions and squeals, shocking me. I thought he might shriek in fright.

Instead, he leaps over the back of the couch, like he’s the actual Pink Princess and intends to tackle Clay. Only Clay catches Dutton and brings him to his chest, holding my son like he’s a gift. Like he’s his.

I shake the thought. It’s too much to consider.

“What do you think?” Clay holds Dutton on his hip while glancing down at himself, cool as a cucumber, and not displaying one bit of emotion about the sexy time that just happened in his bathroom.

As for me, I am still wet between my thighs and feeling the imprint of his fingers touching me. It’s going to be a long evening.

And yet, Clay looks even sexier, holding Dutton and dressed in a costume that complements my son’s.

“This looks amazing.” Dutton squeals again, running his hand over Clay’s chest and the padded pieces that exaggerate his size.

Clay sets Dutton on his feet. “I was going for scary.” He jumps into a karate pose.

Dutton only laughs, and the sound tickles my insides. “I’ll give you a nine point two.”

“What?” Clay straightens and his expression stills. “I’m at least a nine point eight six.”

Dutton bites his lip and shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Oh, man,” Clay drones like a child. “I’ll work on it.”

“You do that,” Dutton admonishes, attempting to sound stern but giggling afterwards.

“Okay, people.” Clay claps his hands once. “Ready for a party?”

“Yeah,” Dutton raises his arms in the air and wiggles his hips side to side before rushing to the front door.

“Jacket,” I holler as the temperature has dropped in the final days of October. “Let me just grab the function dip and—”

I’m cut off as Clay follows closely behind me, practically shoving me into his kitchen. He checks over his shoulder as if he can see the front door from our position then turns toward me. “You didn’t kiss me.”

“I certainly did.” I keep my voice low reminding him with a glare that I had him deep down my throat only minutes ago.

“No, a kiss.” He taps his mouth, and I chew my lip. He glances around the corner of the kitchen again. Then he sneakily dives for my mouth with his, the kiss fast but direct, sucking on my lower lip before swiping his tongue into my mouth. When he pulls back, he steps away from me like he didn’t just take my final ounce of energy. I fall against the refrigerator and nervously laugh, covering my lips with my fingers as I can still feel the kiss on my lips.

And the kiss is the last thing I need to officially calm my nerves and face this party, where his family will be present in one place and old neighbors will gather and speculate about me.

And wonder what Clay Sylver is doing with me.

A question I’ve been trying to avoid answering.

Because the truth is, I’m growing too comfortable around him. Too attached. I’m falling for him.

Like I always do; fast and easy, like his kiss.

+ + +

When we arrive at Halle and Knox’s place, my function dip—your basic seven layers of bean dip goodness—is whisked out of my hands by Halle, who takes it upon herself to re-introduce me to my former neighbors. With polite smiles and pitying eyes, they greet me like an old friend even though I hadn’t interacted with most of them. One thing I liked about Sterling Falls was how everyone knew one another, but I could somehow keep to myself. Just under the radar, like I’d been raised.

I also see people I remember from the Sterlets, especially Trinity Haven.

“Oh, my gosh, girl. Where the hell have you been?” Trinity is a short, blond powerhouse and she hugs me tight. “I heard you’re back at General.”

Trinity is also a nurse there, although we work in different departments, but news certainly travels fast in the hospital. It’s only been a few weeks.

“Only part-time.” My gaze finds Dutton across the room, giggling with Winnie Sylver near a popcorn station Halle set up in her dining room.

“How is he?” Trinity follows my gaze before turning back to me. “How are you?” Her eyes narrow, sincerity in them.

“I’m good.” Out the side of my eye I see Clay lingering nearby. “Really good.” I can’t suppress the smile curling my lips and Trinity glances to my left, slowly nodding her head.

“Ah. The Sylver effect.” Trinity chuckles. “It’s like a pandemic lately.”

I laugh. “What do you mean?”

“First Sebastian. Then Knox. Ford, and now Clay.” She smiles kindly and rubs her hand over my arm. “I’m so happy for him.”

“Clay?” My brows lift.

“He needs someone like you.”

My brows crease, certain that’s a compliment but not certain how. “What do you mean?”

“He needs someone to take care of. That savior complex of his needs saving.” She chuckles like we’re together on an inside joke, but I have no idea what she’s talking about.

Savior complex? I glance at Clay, noticing him watching me. He lifts his beer in salute from his place chatting with his brothers, and I nod, but my smile is tight.

Attempting to relax my pinched lips, I offer Trinity an easier grin. “We should have lunch soon at the hospital, if we work a similar shift.” I grip her arm, giving it a squeeze. “I better check on Dutton.”

But after heading toward him and Winnie, I veer right, and step out the front door to the expansive porch, needing some air. Taking a standing position in the corner near one of the columns holding up the roof, I’m hidden in the shadows and have a clear view of the ruin that was my former home across the street.

The day I found out there was no insurance payout I stopped by the place after coffee with Clay.

Standing before the chain link fences, the privacy tarp ripped here and there, and the fence panels falling over like a haunted mansion once existed behind them, I stared at where my home once stood. The house certainly was haunted with the fear of never knowing how Wesley would act. The tension his drinking caused. The verbal attacks. The small physical assaults. Saving Dutton became the priority. I’d almost been too late to save us both and I shiver at the reminder.

With that tremor comes a familiar scent. Worn leather, cigarettes, and cheap cologne.

Standing straighter, I fold my arms over my midsection and scan the side yard. Narrowing my eyes, I slowly inspect the dark space, continuing to gaze over the front yard and then glancing across the street once more.

The scent is stronger than a week ago at the Harvest Fest, but I shake my head when I don’t see anyone, deciding once again I’m imagining it.

Stress. Anxiety triggers suppressed feelings. Reminders of Florida and when I first met Wesley hit me hard when I’m worked up, and thinking Clay sees me as a project, someone to be saved, has kicked up my fight or flight response.

Flight wants to take control. Not the bold phoenix Clay referenced or the graceful butterfly he calls me, but the woman inside me, angry and hurt that he might think I’m weak and desperate. That I need to be picked up and coddled when what I want is someone to stand beside me and cherish me instead.

“Hey.”

I flinch at the deep tenor of his voice and spin to find Clay standing close behind me. “You okay?”

With my arms crossed around me, protecting myself, I stare back at him, uncertain how to respond. Am I okay? Will I ever be okay?

“I think it’s time I move on.”

“Whoa.” Clay lifts his hands in surprise, eyes wide and blinking like I’ve just socked him in the gut. “Where is this coming from?”

“I don’t need you to save me, Clay. And while I’ll be eternally grateful for you giving Dutton and me a place to stay, I have my job now and we should find our own space.” I grimace. “Plus, I can’t keep sleeping next to a flailing six-year-old.”

Dutton and I need our own space within our own home.

Clay’s brows crease deeply. “I’m not trying to save you. Where the hell did you hear that?”

“Savior complex.” I smirk.

Clay sighs heavily, lowering his shoulders, but his gaze remains on me, eyes firm. “That is not what’s happening here.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know what is happening here,” I mock his tone, dropping my arms and reaching for the railing behind me.

Clay steps closer to me, filling the space between us. “What’s happening is a beautiful woman saved me in a storm one night. She took care of me . She helped me get better when I was sick. She cooked me dinner because she’s kind. And I asked her to stay with me because I want to keep her near me.”

My eyes widen, hands tightening on the porch rail to hold me steady.

Clay runs a hand over his hair. “Since I was in my twenties, I’ve done nothing but work. Save my siblings. Save the Seed so much so that the fear coursing through my body at the sight of the disturbing silhouette barely registers. Whoever he is, I don’t draw attention to him. I can’t handle anymore. I’ve had enough drama for one night.