Read Clay's Hope Page 14


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  "Get out," Gabby said as soon as she woke.

  Her less than charitable tone let me know she wasn't as close to coming around as I'd hoped. With a quiet sigh, I hopped off the bed and exited the room. The house was quiet since Rachel had already left. That woman barely slept.

  I settled on the couch to wait for Gabby and whatever she had planned for the day.

  When Gabby emerged, she passed me without acknowledgment then wandered around the house for a bit. She'd seemed bored, a state of existence I understood well, so I stayed out of her way. After only a few minutes, she shut herself in her room again, which I found odd.

  Inside her room, I heard the faint sound of a zipper and the rustle of clothes. I hopped off the couch and moved closer to the door, trying to listen. She was changing? She'd just gotten dressed.

  I'd barely sat down to wait when the door swung open. Gabby, wearing her swimsuit, stood within the doorway. My gut clenched at the sight of her pale limbs and smooth stomach, and I thanked whatever thought had inspired her to change. My mouth went dry as I studied every inch of her. I itched to touch her again, to hold her in my arms.

  With effort, I lifted my gaze. Did she know how much I loved that suit? Had she changed just for me? Her wide eyes and the livid blush that stained her cheeks gave me my answer. She hadn't.

  She stepped back and slammed the door. Too late, I realized I'd screwed up by openly showing my interest in her. I wanted to yowl my frustration, but I kept quiet. We were learning each other. We were bound to make mistakes. Patience. I just needed patience.

  When she reemerged wearing shorts and a bitty top, she ignored me and marched out the back door. I followed cautiously and watched her disappear into the garage. A minute later, she pushed the lawn mower out.

  She bent to check a few things and push a button. I only gave what she did half my attention. The rest of my focus remained on the curve of her backside.

  She yanked back on a cord, and the mower started with an annoying roar. Too soon, the air filled with its stink. But the view of Gabby's legs as she pushed the machine back and forth made the smell endurable.

  When she finished, she cast an annoyed glance my direction. She didn't like me eyeing her in her suit; now, she didn't like me watching her mow the lawn. What did she expect me to do? Frustrated, I ducked into the house and took another shower to cool off and to wash the exhaust from my skin.

  I dried myself, correctly draped the towel over the edge of the tub, then opened the door a crack. Shifting to my fur, I nudged the door open further and wandered out to look for her.

  She sat on the couch reading again. I padded across the room and jumped up next to her. This time, I didn't earn a sniff. Disappointed, I settled in for another long, hungry morning and afternoon.

  She barely moved or acknowledged me the entire time. The only highlight to the day was the end of it...and the memory of her in her swimsuit. Yeah, that image wasn't ever going to leave me.

  Gabby went to bed, and I waited again, unsure of my welcome. But I found her door unlatched and sighed in relief. How could I feel so hopeful and dejected at the same time?

  I hopped up on the bed and stared down at her.

  The need to touch her clawed at me. Quietly, I shifted into my human skin and shivered slightly as I moved from the end of the bed to lie beside her. Carefully, I eased myself onto my side. I didn't dare slide under the covers. Face to face, I watched her sleep; ever so carefully, I brushed a fingertip along her cheek. Her soft skin begged for more, but I withdrew my hand.

  She confused me and seemed cold at times, but she was mine. Eventually, she'd come to terms with that.

  I inhaled deeply, breathing in her scent, and closed my eyes.