Read Clay's Hope Page 26


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  It took the rest of the week for the boots to dry; and when they did, the leather cracked. I could have dealt with that, but the toes of both boots also curled up, making them difficult to wear. Frustrated that the effort hadn't resulted in something I could wear to go job hunting, I hid everything back under the neighbor's shrub and knew I'd need to find some other footwear.

  Friday afternoon, I lay beside Gabby, resolutely reading yet another book. I heard Rachel's car pull into the driveway much too quickly, then her rapid steps on the porch. I lifted my head.

  "Gabby!" she called in a panicked tone.

  Even with Gabby's cute little human ears, she picked up on the wrongness of Rachel's pitch.

  "In here!" she said as she flew from the bed toward the door.

  The two almost collided when Rachel burst into the room.

  "What's going on?" Gabby asked, pulling back.

  Gabby liked keeping a physical distance from people. Even Rachel. She didn't seem to like touching. It made each pat on the head even more special.

  "Peter broke and told Scott he had plans to go to dinner with me tonight," Rachel said, out of breath.

  "So...?"

  I liked that Gabby tended to echo my thoughts when it came to Rachel.

  "Peter's coming here to pick me up, and Scott's coming with."

  My ears twitched involuntarily.

  "Gabby, I don't think he's going to take no for an answer tonight. Peter can't shake him."

  Scott was going to end up in the hospital. After the week I had, I wasn't in the mood to deal with him nicely.

  Gabby groaned, flopped back on her bed, and landed on me. Full body contact with her back. I didn't care. I loved it. She even reached back to pat me and apologize.

  "Sorry, Clay." She froze then bolted up right. "I've got an idea! Rachel, if you have any clothes that would say I've been dating a guy for a while, can I borrow them?"

  Wait, what?

  "Sure, but who are you dating?"

  Yeah. Who?

  Rachel moved out of Gabby's way as Gabby rushed from the room. I jumped off the bed and followed. She crammed some shoes onto her feet as she walked to the door, almost falling twice along the way. I stared at her wondering what she was doing.

  "I'll let you know when I bring him home. Come on, Clay," she said, holding open the door.

  She wanted me along? I hurried through the door.

  She rushed to the car, opened the door, and waved for me to get in. I was barely out of the way when she pushed in behind me and slammed the car door. I studied her as she careened out the driveway.

  "You're here to keep me safe, right?"

  I grunted in surprise. It wasn't a rhetorical question. She really wasn't sure.

  I'm here to keep you safe and more, Gabby, I thought. But I remained quiet, waiting for her to state her point.

  "Then, I need you to be more than my dog."

  I tilted my head at her, unsure how to take that comment.

  She glanced at me nervously.

  "I need you to put on your skin. Be my date tonight. Please?"

  She wanted me. My pulse leapt, and the ache that had slowly eased over the days spent lying beside her came back with such force that I struggled to inhale. She wanted me as a man, as her date. I almost shifted right then.

  "You took a shower today, right?"

  Like a well-aimed porcupine quill, her little dart dug deep. I snorted.

  "Do you know what size you wear? Shirt, pants, shoes?"

  I blinked at her. I had no idea. I put on things that looked like they would fit. Everything I'd found, I'd tried on.

  She didn't seem bothered by my lack of answer. With a slight squeal of tires, she pulled into an open space in a huge parking lot and slammed on the brakes. I almost hit the dash.

  "I'll be back in a few minutes," she said. She was out the door before I could nod.

  I stared after her and watched her disappear into a store. What was she up to? Scott was coming; and instead of just leaving the house, she was asking me to be her date?

  A slow smile spread on my lips as I began to see her plan. She wanted to show the man that I had a Claim on her. She didn't want to avoid him; she wanted to stop any future interest. I stood and stared at the store with pride. She wanted me.

  She ran out of the store a few minutes later with a bag hanging from her arm. She opened the car door, tossed the bag at my feet, slid behind the wheel, and backed out, all in a matter of seconds.

  Her driving made my stomach turn as she raced home.

  Gabby pulled into the driveway, came to another jarring stop, then killed the engine as she opened her door. Rachel stood by the back door, waiting. The clingy dress she wore didn't bode well for Gabby because I doubted the stack of clothes in Rachel's arms was much different.

  "Where's your date?" Rachel asked as she scanned the car. "The guys are going to be here in fifteen minutes."

  Gabby waved her back into the house. "He'll be here in a few minutes. I hope."

  I followed just behind Gabby and saw her toss the bag into the bathroom.

  "Let's go in my room, and you can help me pick what to wear."

  "Really?" Rachel's excited squeal made me wince. It wasn't the pitch; it was how she would dress Gabby.

  They disappeared around the corner into the living room while I stayed by the bathroom.

  "I need something a little tropical or hippie-ish," Gabby said as she closed her bedroom door.

  I looked at the bag. What had she purchased? I walked into the bathroom, then shifted and closed the door. In the bag, I found some weird cloth pants, a matching shirt, and sandals. Even without growing up human, I knew I'd look like an idiot. I knew what men wore. It wasn't that.

  But she'd asked me to be a man for her. I sighed and started the shower. Though I'd already bathed, I knew how she was about my scent.

  I listened to the murmur of their voices through the walls. Then suddenly Gabby's voice rose, and I could clearly hear her.

  "...because I'm cheap, I got him some clean clothes from the summer closeout racks..."

  So it was money behind the selection and not annoyance. That relieved me but also concerned me. I was eating her food, breaking her washing machine-the cost of the vet was all on her-and now she had to buy me clothes, too? I'd wanted her to become dependent on me. Instead, I was dependent on her.

  I stepped into the shower and quickly washed. When I finished, I refrained from shaking off. Gabby didn't like the mess that made. I used my designated towel, dried, and hung it over the edge of the tub. Then I stared at the clothes. There was a package of shorts and a pair of pants. I looked the package over. Underwear. Hmm. They didn't have that at the Compound. Shrugging, I opened the package and shook a pair out. I eyed it. It looked...small. I stretched the sides out, in doubt. Maybe it would work, but was it necessary?

  She wouldn't have included it if it wasn't. At least from her point of view. I stepped into the underwear and carefully pulled them up. They held everything as firmly as the vet. I tugged the legs down and won an inch of breathing room. Resigned, I stepped into the pants. They fit all right and were comfortable enough. The shirt was snug across my shoulders. If I needed to grab Scott, I'd rip a seam. No grabbing Scott, then. Unless he really deserved it.

  Someone tapped on the door.

  "Do you need help?" Gabby's whispered words reached me through the door.

  I nervously looked at myself in the mirror, ran my fingers through my long hair and beard, then eyed the sandals. I wasn't wearing them or going to another dinner with Scott, Peter, and Rachel. The first one had been worse than a run in with a skunk.

  "Please hurry, Clay," Gabby said.

  Taking a deep breath, I opened the door. Gabby waited for me in a pretty knee-length, cream skirt and a light yellow top that showed her neck and collarbones. She had her hair back and
something about her eyes looked different. She stole my breath most days, but in this moment, she made me want to drop to my knees.

  As I stared at her, her gaze swept over me, lingering on the shirt and my shoulders. I was worried that she was thinking it didn't look right. Then a slight change in her scent hit me. Interest. I wanted to shout and laugh. Instead, I calmly put my hands in my pockets and let her look her fill.

  With a pink tint to her cheeks, she looked away.

  "Brat," she said under her breath, and I wasn't sure if she was talking to me or herself. Then she cleared her throat and said, "You'll do."

  Behind her, Rachel smirked at us. Gabby turned and caught her amusement.

  "Quiet from the peanut gallery."

  The doorbell rang. Rachel ran to the front door, and Gabby slowly followed. I trailed behind her, watching the gentle sway of her skirt.

  "Come on in," Rachel said to Peter.

  Peter stepped in, and Scott followed just inches behind. Peter's nervousness clouded the room. Scott's lust quickly overpowered it, though, and I fisted my hands in my pockets and stepped closer to Gabby. The man's gaze flicked to me, and I knew he saw the possession in my stance.

  "Hi, Peter," Gabby said. "Nice to see you again, Scott. We were going to join you guys, but Clay just got off of work a little while ago and suggested he and I take advantage of the empty house tonight."

  A lie I would happily die to see come true.

  I watched anger color Scott's face.

  "Isn't Clay your dog?"

  I didn't care for his tone and narrowed my eyes at him.

  "We named the dog after my boyfriend. It's a bit of a joke. Clay, meet Peter and Scott, Rachel's friends."

  Scott's shoulders slumped at Gabby's words. I wanted to gloat, but Gabby's sudden remorse and anxiety worried me. Taking a risk, I lightly set my hand on the small of her back to comfort her. She didn't flinch or move away. My mouth went dry and my throat closed at her acceptance of my touch. My breathing grew shallow, and I struggled to control my emotions...my need to turn her around and touch her face and hair.

  "Peter, Rachel, I'm sorry to back out on you, too, but I think I'm going to head home," Scott said, distracting me. "I've been fighting a cold all week." He turned and left.

  Rachel softly asked Peter to get her jacket and eyed Gabby.

  "Are you sure you want to stay in?" she asked Gabby, as Peter helped her with her jacket.

  I studied Peter. He was crazy about Rachel. I could see it in the way he looked at her and touched her, and I could smell it. If they were my kind, I would have surely scented a Claimed pair. How could he stand being apart from her each night?

  "We're sure," Gabby said, waving them toward the door. "Don't come home early."

  When the door closed behind them, she exhaled slowly and turned toward me. I reluctantly let my hand drop. She smiled at me nervously.

  "Home free. Thank you, Clay."

  I put my hand back in my pocket and waited. Would she ask me to change back? Tell me to leave?

  "Um..." She seemed just as uncertain as I was. She took a breath. "Did you want to do something since we're both dressed up?"

  She wasn't going to send me away? I shrugged, trying not to show how happy she'd just made me. I didn't want to ruin my chance to spend time with her in my skin.

  "You can talk to me, Clay," she said.

  Oh, I wanted to. I wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked right now. And ask if I could touch her hair. But, I kept my mouth shut. She wasn't ready. She'd run.

  "Okay, do you want to go out or stay in?"

  Stay in. I figured, deep down, she wanted that too. I moved to the couch and sat in the middle.

  She hesitated then looked at the space available on each side of me. I loved watching the warm light in her soft brown eyes as she considered her options.

  "I'm going to go change." Her voice shook. "I'll be right back."

  My heart stalled, and as she turned, I sprang from the couch. She couldn't leave. If she did, she might not come back out of the room. I caught the back of her shirt between my thumb and finger. She froze and ever so slowly looked over her shoulder at me. I tilted my head at the couch.

  Please don't go, I thought.

  Desperate, but trying hard not to show it, I gave her shirt another gentle tug.

  She took a slow, deep breath and hesitantly moved back to the couch. I wanted to go sit by her, but I knew she'd probably bolt. I could smell her near panic. Walking to the TV, I tried to figure out what I could do to ease her uncertainty of me. I picked the comedy I'd borrowed from one of the neighbor's homes. It was one Gabby had mentioned wanting to see.

  I pressed play, stood, and walked toward the couch. She watched me closely, and I wanted to stand taller because of it.

  Sitting next to her, I tried to focus on the previews. It was no good. I'd sat too close. Her scent wrapped around me, as usual, but her leg pressed lightly against mine. Despite two layers of material, it felt too much like skin on skin. My gut clenched with want.

  It took half the movie for her to start to relax beside me. Then, she laughed at something. Though I stared at the TV, I had no idea what had just happened. I remained completely focused on her. But the sound of her amusement made me chuckle. I wanted to hear that sound every day of my life.

  When the movie ended, she leaned forward to stand. The motion hitched up her skirt an innocent inch. Innocent or not, I knew I needed to calm down. As she moved to the TV, I shifted and slipped out of my clothes at the same time. Moving with the blurred speed that came natural to my kind, I folded the clothes neatly so she would know I appreciated her gift and set them on the couch. Then I left via the front door.

  I ran fast and hard for ten minutes, covering miles before returning to the back porch. A hint of buttery saltiness drifted in the air, and I heard Gabby moving around within the kitchen. Changing directions, I went to the front. I opened the door and smelled popcorn. Quietly, I closed the door and settled onto the couch in my fur to wait for her.

  She stepped into the room a moment later with a big bowl in her arms, spotted me, and smiled. She was happy to see me.

  "There you are. Want some popcorn?"

  She turned around and went back into the kitchen, got another bowl for me, and set it on the floor by the couch. I wasn't sure if it was because she was seeing me as a dog or because there wasn't much room left on the couch. Then she settled in next to me and curled her legs up to tuck her feet under me.

  Why hadn't she done this when I was a man? I sighed, moved closer, and laid my head on her legs. She'd asked me to change into my skin for her, I reminded myself. Our relationship was growing. She'd come to accept me in my fur. She'd do the same with my skin. But would it be in time? At the rate we were moving, her acceptance would come long after the six-month mark.

  I only half watched the movie that played. Mostly I focused on her. What would it take to move things along?

  She absently ate a piece of popcorn, and my heart skipped a beat. How could I react to her like this all the time, but she barely reacted to me at all? I couldn't think like that. It wasn't a fair comparison. Like she'd said in the beginning, she was human. She didn't have the instincts I did. I needed to help her see I was meant to be the one for her.

  She glanced at me as if sensing my regard and then smiled. She offered me a piece of her popcorn. I nipped it from her fingers. I wasn't hungry. I just wanted a taste of her. My tongue barely swept against her finger, but she didn't seem to mind. She ate another piece, then offered me one. The fourth time, I licked the back of her hand. It was a kiss, but would she know that?

  The movie fully captured her attention, and she stopped eating and feeding me. I shifted my position, lying closer to her.

  When the movie ended and she got up, I wanted to groan and pull her back. Sure, we slept in the same room every night and read side by sid
e, but this had been actual snuggling; and I wanted more.

  Instead of going to the kitchen with the bowl, she set it on the floor and moved to the TV to start another movie. I grinned. She'd liked it too, hadn't she? The smile was well suppressed when she turned around and rejoined me.

  The second movie was more action-suspense than comedy. Halfway through the movie, she'd dug one of her hands into the fur at my neck, and the other lightly worried one of my ears. She was nervous because of the movie, and I was turned on as hell.

  The front door opened just then, and Gabby jumped-nearly yanking my ear off-and screamed. Yeah, that helped cool me down, as did Rachel's stunned face.

  "And that's why I don't watch suspense movies," Gabby said, putting a hand to her heart. Rachel and I both started laughing.

  Gabby was just so damn cute. I kissed her exposed stomach and settled down.

  She gently tugged on my ear. "Cut it out," she said softly.

  So she did know when I kissed her. The insight made me want to try again. Too bad Rachel was watching.

  "When did Clay leave? I thought he'd still be here after you said I shouldn't hurry home." Rachel kicked off her shoes and flopped sideways on the chair.

  Gabby turned off the movie. "Nah, I turned my back, and he took off on me."

  She patted me on the head, and I snorted. If I would have stayed, she would have been the one running out the door.

  "It's okay, though, I have my favorite guy here."

  Inside, I soared.

  "He was a little scary looking if you ask me," Rachel said.

  Scary? That was the clothes, not me.

  When Rachel reached over to pet me, I moved slightly and arched a brow at Gabby. She better say I wasn't scary.

  Gabby looked like she wanted to laugh.

  "When I first met him, I told him he looked like a crazy man. I still think he's crazy, but he's also nice and dependable."

  I sighed. I was scary, crazy, nice, and dependable; but the idiot repairman had been hot?

  "So does he ever act like Scott?" Rachel asked.

  "No way," Gabby said quickly. "Most guys talk about themselves to try to impress me, or they just act scary obsessive. Clay's different. I don't think I affect him like I do other guys." She paused for a long moment. "I think he just likes being with me."

  Finally! She got it.

  "And I'm grateful that I get to be normal around him."

  Rachel laughed. "You sound like you're really serious about him. Why didn't you talk about him before this? And why didn't you say the dog had the same name? We could have changed it."

  I watched Gabby, wondering how she'd explain around that.

  "I wasn't sure if or when he'd make an appearance. And I like the name Clay. Besides, he doesn't mind."

  Rachel made a small noise neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

  "We should probably talk about overnight visitors," Rachel said. "What rules do we want to set?"

  "Um...no loud noises?"

  "Come on!" Rachel laughed louder. "I meant, weekends only? Maybe guests till midnight on weekdays? Notice needed? You know, that kind of stuff."

  Rachel's grin said she was up to something. It probably had to do with Peter, who'd been standing outside the front door the whole time.

  "I don't know. I trust you and your judgment, and you can trust my lack of a social life. I really don't think I'll see Clay very often, so you don't need to worry."

  "Oh, he'll be back. I saw the way he watched you. Are you sure the only rule you can come up with is no loud noises?"

  "Yeah, I think we're fine."

  "Great!" she said with a huge grin. Then she cupped her hands and yelled, "Peter!"

  The front door immediately opened, and a sheepish looking Peter entered.

  "You were supposed to text me," he muttered uncomfortably.

  Gabby laughed. "Come on in, Peter. Clay and I were just going to bed."

  Definitely. I jumped off the couch, and Gabby moved to follow me.

  "Night, guys," she said as we walked into her room.

  "Another early Friday night for us," she whispered after she closed the door.

  She got into bed, and I jumped up on the end. I didn't mind an early night if it meant lying with her.

  Gabby stayed awake a long time, and I wondered if she could hear the giggling and other noises coming from Rachel's room, too.