Chapter 24

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

NICHOLAS

Clay and I rush out of the hotel so fast the next morning, I barely have time to process the fact that I just had the deepest, most heavenly sleep of my adult life in his arms. With muffins and coffee from the continental breakfast, we chat in his truck and roll back home.

I'm still hazy and warm, practically floating on a cloud when I walk into the shop. The sex I had last night was earth-shaking.

I was fully embodied, fully empowered, and deeply connected to Clay's pleasure, too. His touch is burned into my sense memory, and the ache where he penetrated me is enough to steal my breath all over again.

It's just sex, I remind myself yet again. The kind of sex that you fantasize about for the rest of your life.

And you definitely don't fantasize that you're on your honeymoon together while you lie in bed the next morning. That would be too much, even though the idea still fills my stomach with butterflies.

It's natural that I would entertain some fantasies of a swoony, romantic life with Clay. My heart just goes there, even if my brain knows that he doesn't want it.

"Morning, Kavya," I say when she steps out of the back. "Sorry I'm a little later than usual."

Kavya barely arches an eyebrow. She crosses her arms over her chest, and I notice that she's added floral laces to her black boots, a surprising splash of color.

"What?" I ask.

She accepts the breakfast sandwich I hand her, my apology for showing up late. "Thanks," she says. "And I didn't say anything."

"But you raised your eyebrow."

She shrugs. "Maybe you're guilty," she says dryly. "Do you have something on your mind?"

I squint. "Why would I be guilty?"

Shit. Does she know about Clay? What if people find out, and he reacts badly?

I smile innocently.

"Suit yourself. I've been politely ignoring the obvious for weeks. I have my own dating life to worry about. But you should probably prepare yourself for that bubble to burst." She unwraps the sandwich. "Are you harvesting roses this afternoon?"

I blink as my brain catches up. Clearly, Kavya knows. And she's telling me other people probably know. I try to formulate a response, but a second later, the door to the shop swings open and Finn walks in.

"Oh. Hi!" I smile. "Morning, Finn. What brings you by?"

He frowns at me. "Did you know that Samira's ex-girlfriend's sister got married last week?"

"Um, no? Which ex-girlfriend?"

Finn is wearing a collared shirt with short sleeves, and he pushes them up his arms as he walks toward me. "Arya," he says, like it proves something.

I look to Kavya. "Can someone tell me what's going on this morning?"

Kavya walks over to the coffee pot. "Arya's sister and her new spouse were at a hotel in Niagara Falls last night, and they heard two men banging it out and screaming Nicholas and Clay at each other," she says. "The men were so inspired and horny, she relayed the story to Arya. Coffee, anyone?"

"I'd love a splash," Finn answers.

I look between them, my mind racing. "So what? That doesn't prove anything."

Finn shoots his eyes back to me. "Doesn't prove what, Nicholas?"

Flailing, I feign ignorance. "Wait. Hold on a second. Do you think that me Nicholas and Clay Clay were at the hotel last night?" I cough out a scoff-laugh. "Can you imagine?"

They both stare at me blankly.

"Yes, Nicholas," Finn says. "We can easily imagine."

"In fact," Kavya adds, "we've all been trying not to imagine out of respect."

Finn walks over and accepts the mug that Kavya offers him. "But if you're really doing this, first of all, bravo."

"Truly," Kavya agrees. "Impressive job. Didn't know you had a secret affair in you."

"But more importantly, if the entire town is about to learn the truth, it's time to stop being polite. We want the gossip. It's unhealthy for you to keep it bottled up inside. You need to tell your friends."

As I look at them both across the shop, my resolve caves.

"You're not supposed to know," I say. "I mean, if it were true."

"To know you're secretly carrying on a carnal relationship with Randy's grandson," Kavya says.

"Considering how I am, there would be rules and agreements in place, were that true. So I think I need to check with Clay before I really tell anyone. Theoretically."

Kavya nods. "Sure. But while we're on the topic, and purely in the hypothetical…"

"When did it start, how often, are you having fun, and is it serious?" Finn asks.

I laugh. "Almost right away? A few times each week. Hell yeah. And I'll just pretend I didn't hear your last question."

They exchange a glance before nodding, satisfied.

"I'd say you've got about a day, maybe two before the entire neighborhood knows," Finn says.

Kavya nods. "Tick tock. Better talk to your theoretical man."

"And look at that," Finn says brightly. "I see him out the back window now."

It's a relief, actually, to tell my friends what's happening. A wave of appreciation for both of them goes through me, too. But just as quickly, the dread of everyone discovering takes over, along with the concern that Clay will balk.

"I guess that's my cue." As I walk toward the side door, though, I spin and look at my friends.

"Isn't he so hot and talented and surprisingly sweet?" I ask, and they both laugh.

"Yes, Nicholas," Kavya says.

"You're very cute together," Finn agrees.

I nod, pleased. "Thanks. I'll see you both soon."

Behind the shop, Clay is hauling two heavy bags of concrete, one in each arm. It warms me that he's just around like this, although lately, that comes with a pang of awareness that he's leaving, too.

When he sees me, he heaves the bags to the ground beside some others.

He pulls the back of his arms across his forehead, wiping sweat. "Hey," he says and cocks up his eyebrows, flirty. "Morning."

My mind flashes back two hours, driving home before sunrise. He kept putting his hand on my thigh, holding it there without saying a word.

It felt incredible.

"Morning," I answer.

"I was going to install concrete countertops upstairs. Try to make it more appealing on the market. But with an interested buyer already coming, I'm going to stick to finishing what I've already started."

"I guess that's good, right? Save you some work?"

He frowns, clearly not happy about it. "I was getting too invested anyway," he grumbles.

Clay has seemed as conflicted about selling the building as I feel. But I know there's a lot involved in the process, so I try not to read into that. He likes carpentry, and his goal is to run his own crew far away from here.

Even if he fell in love with the building, that doesn't mean he wants to be my partner. Unlike me, Clay is probably emotionally fine with this ending. I could even imagine him feeling relieved.

He turns his eyes back up to me. "That was my morning project. Wish I could think of something to do outside, it's perfect weather today. What are you doing?"

"Harvesting roses," I tell him. "Want to join me?"

Clay shrugs. "If you could use some help. Sure. As long as there's lunch on the other end."

I wince as my brain catches up to all the implications. "Oh. I should clarify. I'm harvesting roses at my parents' house. I planted as many bushes as I could reasonably fit in the backyard. They enjoy free landscaping, and I harvest for the shop." I tilt my head to the side. "I believe they're both gone, but there's a definite possibility of meeting involved."

Clay frowns. "What? Am I supposed to be scared of your parents or something? Why are you warning me?"

I laugh. "No. The opposite. They're great. It's just got flavors of meeting the family, you know?"

He deepens his frown. "It is meeting your family. That's exactly what it would be."

A flush goes over my cheeks. Does he not see the romantic dimensions, or does he not care?

Instead of pushing it, I shrug. We need to talk today anyway, and I'm grateful to have time with him. "Okay. Let's do it. I'll just take care of a couple quick things in the shop. Meet you out front in fifteen?"

Clay brushes concrete dust off his shirt. "Cool. I'll go change." He half-smiles, teasing me. "For your mom."

I nearly melt.