Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
“If I have it my way, it’ll be our property soon enough,” he drops that little nugget of information. Warmth settles deep in my bones. Clay really is the real deal. He’s shown me this is way more than I ever expected, and he tells me in little ways, too.
“Really?” I say on a sigh. My heart beats rapidly in my chest.
“Fuck yeah, sweetheart.” Clay moves closer and bends at the knees, hand going around the nape of my neck. His mouth lands on mine, tongue sliding along the seam of my lips before he nips at my upper lip, quickly soothing the sting away. My eyes close, and I’m lost in our heated kiss. The cold no longer singes my skin. I’m heated from the inside out, and it’s all because of the green-eyed cowboy holding me tightly against his strong frame.
CHAPTER 14
Clay
“Ican’t believe you weren’t going to put any of this up.” I watch as she lays the garland along the mantle. Some of this stuff is from Texas, and the other was left by the previous owners. When we were in the barn, she attempted to move the ladder to climb up to the higher shelves. No way I’d let that happen. I picked her up, planted her feet on the ground, and got every single box down. Clementine went through everything, then started carrying it to the side-by-side with a look in her eyes telling me to go ahead and say something. I followed her lead, grabbing the containers and helping her load them up. Now here we are. I’m cooking dinner while she decorates. This is clearly her domain in the house. She dove in the minute we had everything inside. Nala is curled in a ball on the ground, refusing to use the dog bed I bought her. Jasmine is tucked in beside them, and Clementine has Christmas music playing softly in the background.
“Sweetheart, no reason to do much with it just being me up here on the mountain. Not like I have many friends surrounding me. Those are in Wyoming, and while they invited me, I’d only settled here a few months ago, and the last thing I wanted was to haul my animals along for the ride.” She ties a ribbon in three different spots, on the ends and in the middle where it’s gathered.
“You don’t have anyone here who would stay with them?” she asks, oblivious to the fact that I keep to myself more than most do in this town.
“Nah, not many friends up this way besides Hank. And he likes my money more than me.” She tosses her head my way. “He works at the tractor supply store. The man is always trying to upsell me on a new piece of equipment,” I explain further. “There’s also Winston Nash, the realtor who sold me this place. Almost made a phone call to rip his head off.”
“Why? This place is beautiful.” Clementine moves from the garland to the plastic tote. What I’ve noticed about her, she doesn’t seem to be able to finish one complete task at a time. It’s cute as fuck, watching her scurry from one project to the next. Cleaning up around the house, helping me feed the animals tonight, and the way she’s already making sure there are plenty of snacks to give each animal tonight when we go check on them.
“Sweetheart, all the accidents and people breaking down in front of my driveway is crazy. I about put this place on the market and hightailed it to Wyoming, where Amos and the Johnson brothers live. I’m sure glad I didn’t.” I drag my tongue along my lips, licking them as I watch her cheeks flush with color.
“Oh, well, that makes sense. I’m happy you didn’t leave as well. I could have happened upon a serial killer or frozen to death out there waiting.”
She places an ornament on the tree when it happens. The lights flicker before turning off. It’ll take a minute for the generator to kick on, so the light from the fireplace is the only thing we have right now.
“Clay?”
“It’s alright. Figured this would have happened before now, or at least while it’s still light out.” I’m in the kitchen, pan-searing a steak before it goes in the oven. Another plus is the range using gas, and not having power still makes it so I can cook.
“Okay, do you have a flashlight? I’m not afraid of the dark per se. More like I don’t want to fall flat on my face while navigating through the mess I made.” I turn the burner off, shove the cast iron skillet to the back, and head to the junk drawer where I keep a flashlight.
“Yep, on it right now. Try not to move. Some of those ornaments will splinter into a thousand pieces. I don’t want you stepping on one and cutting yourself.” I’m rummaging through the drawer, realizing I need to have a better plan in action. When I’m here by myself, I couldn’t care less if I bump into something, but where Clementine is concerned is a whole other story. I wrap my hand around the flashlight just as the generator kicks over. There’s a delay in case the power comes back on. In instances like tonight, I already know that’s not going to be the case.