Read Heart of Clay Page 7


  Chapter Four

  Clay stretched lazily in bed, not quite ready to open his eyes, not quite willing for a new day to begin. Although yesterday had been wonderful, thoughts of last night made a satisfied smile cross his face. He’d almost forgotten how amazing it could be to hold his wife in his arms.

  When he reached out his hand to touch Callan, all he felt was an empty bed. Quickly coming fully awake, he looked around. The open bathroom door let him know Callan wasn’t in there. He jumped up and tugged on his robe. He didn’t think she’d take the truck and leave him without a vehicle. He charged into the kitchen and pulled up short. Callan sat at the table, drinking tea and eating a muffin.

  A becoming blush stole over her cheeks as she glanced at him with a shy smile. “Good morning,” she said, absently running a hand up to her hair, making sure it was in place.

  Clay grinned. Callan was back to business mode this morning, looking all proper and professional. She wore a berry-red blouse with her black suit, though. An indisputable chink in the all-black armor had been rendered.

  “Mornin’ Callan,” Clay drawled, bending to kiss her cheek. Cautious not to say anything that would make her blush more, he decided to give her an easy out. “How about if I grab a quick shower and then I’ll take you to work?”

  “That would be great.” Callan hid her face behind a cup of tea. “Would you like me to make you some breakfast?”

  “Nah. I’ll get something later. I’ll just be a minute.” Clay turned back to the bedroom and hurried to the bathroom.

  After taking a shower in record time, he was soon dressed and ready to go. On his way out to warm up the pickup, he noticed Callan placed the pink rose he gave her in a vase on the counter. He started the pickup and scraped the windshield then returned inside the house. In the kitchen, he watched Callan root around in her purse, digging out one of her many lists.

  “Laney, give me one of those lists,” Clay said, holding out his hand. His tone warned her not to argue.

  “What?” Callan’s head snapped up and she looked at him as if he’d sprouted horns.

  “I’ve got time to do some errands today. Give me one of your lists and I’ll take care of it for you.” Clay waggled his fingers at her and raised an eyebrow.

  “Really? You’d really run errands?” Callan scrambled to decide which list Clay would be least likely to bungle.

  “You bet.” Clay winked at her and waggled his fingers again. “Now what have you got that I’m capable of doing?”

  Callan ended up giving him the grocery list. If he forgot anything, she’d still have time to go to the store before Christmas Eve.

  Clay dropped Callan off at work with a smile and a kiss that left her completely befuddled. As she fumbled to open the pickup door, she dropped her gloves then entangled herself in the seat belt.

  Clay wanted to burst out laughing. He loved seeing her flustered and barely held back a comment that would no doubt bring the blush back to her cheeks. Instead, he said, “See you tonight. Have a great day, girl. Love you.”

  Callan had been halfway out of the pickup when he spoke. She stopped mid-slide off the seat and turned back to him. “I love you, too. Thank you so much, Clay.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, then climbed out and shut the pickup door. She straightened her shoulders, mentally shifting into business mode, ready to take on the day as she walked into work.

  Clay ran by the grocery store and got everything on the list. He made it home in plenty of time to find the files he needed from Callan’s office before going out to the ranch to work on her Christmas present.

  He disliked being in her office and spent as little time in it as possible. At least being married to someone incredibly organized made finding things simple. She had a file for everything and everything was in its place.

  Clay couldn’t keep from having a huge smile plastered across his face as he drove out to see his mom and work on Callan’s present. Things went even better than he’d planned last night.

  If a little effort won the battle, he contemplated what a big effort on his part could accomplish. As he drove down the ranch’s lane, he hummed a rather boisterous rendition of Holly, Jolly Christmas.