Broken Road."
"Are your parents amenable to watching your daughter when you go out?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble.
"It hasn't been an issue so far," she said. "This is the first time I've gone out at night, other than to work."
"In six weeks? " he said.
"Is that how long I've been back?" She couldn't remember clearly. In any case, she didn't really want to talk. She wanted to listen to the music and press closer to the hard body that was moving against hers, making her breasts tingle. It felt like forever since she'd been with a man, 50
Brenda Novak
especially a man who smelled as good as Clay--
Suddenly, he shifted to hold her away from him.
She looked up and would have released him, except that he kept his hands on her waist.
Was she the one who'd snuggled so close? She must've been. Otherwise, he wouldn't have reacted like that. "I'm sorry," she said, embarrassed. "I'm not thinking straight."
"I know."
"I've gotta go."
He didn't answer immediately, but when he did, he said, "That's probably a good idea. I'll take you home."
"No, you've got your stepsister and Kirk here. I'll call my father."
"There's no need. I'm leaving anyway. Meet me outside in five minutes," he said as if it had all been decided.
" Meet you?" she repeated. "Are you going somewhere else before we leave?"
He subtly indicated one side of the room. When she glanced over, she saw that Joe was watching them again.
"You don't want to start any rumors, do you?" he said, putting his back to Barker's nephew and effectively shielding her from his view.
Her thoughts were a little fuzzy, but she was fairly sure any rumors that might get started wouldn't bother Clay in the least. Folks had whispered about him for most of his life. And having people believe he'd bagged the cop who was supposed to convict him of Barker's murder would be a feather in his cap. Wouldn't it?
Which meant...he was protecting her. He'd been protecting her when he put some space between them while they were dancing, too, she belatedly realized. But he was supposed to be the bad guy. So why wasn't he taking advantage of the situation?
She thought of the pool they'd played. He could easily have stoked his own ego by dominating the game and walking away with all the winnings. But he hadn't. He'd kept each game close, even lost the first one. And now, instead of slinging an arm around her and taking her outside as if he'd just claimed some kind of trophy, he was thinking of her--and how any affiliation with him would affect her.
She liked Clay. A lot.
But she was light-headed, she reminded herself. For the sake of remaining objective in her investigation, and preserving her peace of mind, she hoped she'd like him a great deal less when she sobered up.
Clay could tell Allie was tipsy but, except for those few minutes on the dance floor when she'd melted into him, she was trying hard to compensate. She sat in his truck as he drove, holding herself rigid and staring out at the landscape as if she was afraid she might say or do something she'd regret if she wasn't careful.
"Do you plan on living with your parents for very long?" he asked.
"I never planned on moving back home in the first place."
"You seem to be making it work."
"It's better than farming my daughter out to day care."
"That was your other choice?"
"If I'd stayed in Chicago and kept my old job."
"What about your ex-husband? He couldn't help?"
"When you have a man who never wanted a child in the first place, you don't get a lot of 51
Brenda Novak
support."
Clay knew what that was like. His father had never wanted him or his sisters or things would've turned out differently. "At least in this day and age he has to provide some financial support."
"No, he doesn't."
Clay turned on the car radio. "How's that?"
"I made him a trade. He signed papers relinquishing his rights to Whitney, and I gave up child support."
Clay wished he could ask why she'd done that.
"Are your parents amenable to watching your daughter when you go out?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble.
"It hasn't been an issue so far," she said. "This is the first time I've gone out at night, other than to work."
"In six weeks? " he said.
"Is that how long I've been back?" She couldn't remember clearly. In any case, she didn't really want to talk. She wanted to listen to the music and press closer to the hard body that was moving against hers, making her breasts tingle. It felt like forever since she'd been with a man, 50
Brenda Novak
especially a man who smelled as good as Clay--
Suddenly, he shifted to hold her away from him.
She looked up and would have released him, except that he kept his hands on her waist.
Was she the one who'd snuggled so close? She must've been. Otherwise, he wouldn't have reacted like that. "I'm sorry," she said, embarrassed. "I'm not thinking straight."
"I know."
"I've gotta go."
He didn't answer immediately, but when he did, he said, "That's probably a good idea. I'll take you home."
"No, you've got your stepsister and Kirk here. I'll call my father."
"There's no need. I'm leaving anyway. Meet me outside in five minutes," he said as if it had all been decided.
" Meet you?" she repeated. "Are you going somewhere else before we leave?"
He subtly indicated one side of the room. When she glanced over, she saw that Joe was watching them again.
"You don't want to start any rumors, do you?" he said, putting his back to Barker's nephew and effectively shielding her from his view.
Her thoughts were a little fuzzy, but she was fairly sure any rumors that might get started wouldn't bother Clay in the least. Folks had whispered about him for most of his life. And having people believe he'd bagged the cop who was supposed to convict him of Barker's murder would be a feather in his cap. Wouldn't it?
Which meant...he was protecting her. He'd been protecting her when he put some space between them while they were dancing, too, she belatedly realized. But he was supposed to be the bad guy. So why wasn't he taking advantage of the situation?
She thought of the pool they'd played. He could easily have stoked his own ego by dominating the game and walking away with all the winnings. But he hadn't. He'd kept each game close, even lost the first one. And now, instead of slinging an arm around her and taking her outside as if he'd just claimed some kind of trophy, he was thinking of her--and how any affiliation with him would affect her.
She liked Clay. A lot.
But she was light-headed, she reminded herself. For the sake of remaining objective in her investigation, and preserving her peace of mind, she hoped she'd like him a great deal less when she sobered up.
Clay could tell Allie was tipsy but, except for those few minutes on the dance floor when she'd melted into him, she was trying hard to compensate. She sat in his truck as he drove, holding herself rigid and staring out at the landscape as if she was afraid she might say or do something she'd regret if she wasn't careful.
"Do you plan on living with your parents for very long?" he asked.
"I never planned on moving back home in the first place."
"You seem to be making it work."
"It's better than farming my daughter out to day care."
"That was your other choice?"
"If I'd stayed in Chicago and kept my old job."
"What about your ex-husband? He couldn't help?"
"When you have a man who never wanted a child in the first place, you don't get a lot of 51
Brenda Novak
support."
Clay knew what that was like. His father had never wanted him or his sisters or things would've turned out differently. "At least in this day and age he has to provide some financial support."
"No, he doesn't."
Clay turned on the car radio. "How's that?"
"I made him a trade. He signed papers relinquishing his rights to Whitney, and I gave up child support."
Clay wished he could ask why she'd done that.
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