Page 78 of Let It Breathe
“That’s too bad.” He smiled as he drove past a sea of grapevines. “It’s been an adventure so far.”
He pulled up in front of her little house, and Reese held her breath for a second, wondering if he’d kill the engine or just bid her a quick farewell. Which did she want?
Wally put the car in park and kept the engine running. “Thank you for coming out with me, Reese. I had a nice time. Did you?”
“Yes,” said Reese, a little taken aback. “Yes, I guess I did.”
He smiled and took her hand. “Good. I’m glad.”
He lifted her hand to his lips and planted a chaste kiss on her knuckles. Then he set her hand back in her lap and smiled.
Hardly the make-out session Larissa was hoping to hear about, but Reese knew she wasn’t really the sort of woman who inspired men to pounce on her in the front seat of a Subaru.
“Goodnight, Reese.”
“Goodnight, Wally. Thanks again for everything.”
“My pleasure.”
Reese climbed out of the car and trudged up the walkway to her house. She never locked her front door, so she pushed it open and flicked her porch light off and on a couple times to let Wally know she was safely inside. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, basking in the few moments of solitude she had before Larissa arrived.
Instead of peace, she felt a wave of guilt.
She’d been so certain Clay had fallen off the wagon. So sure he’d been the one to do something wrong, to end up in jail for fighting or public drunkenness or God knows what else.
Judgmental bitch, she muttered to herself as she pulled off her boots and wriggled her toes on the sisal mat at her front door.
Well, hell, how many times had she gotten calls just like that one? Calls when the worst thing really did turn out to be true.
She’d lost count of the drunken messages, the trips to the police station, the rowdy bar fights, the times she’d had to scrub puke out of her car.
Why wouldn’t I think the worst?
Still. Maybe she owed him an apology.
The headlights of Clay’s truck swung down the driveway, and Reese turned to the window to watch him move slowly along the gravel. The old Clay would have come blazing up the road at twice that speed, heedless of small rodents or dust flying up behind him to coat her grapes. The new Clay was certainly more cautious.
Reese reached for the door.
An apology. She could give him that much.
Clay killed the engine in front of Reese’s house and stepped out of his truck. Larissa was sound asleep in the passenger seat, so Clay walked around to the other side and opened her door.
“’Riss?”
Nothing. Just a small snore and a thin ribbon of drool connecting her bottom lip to the hem of her skirt. He hesitated, feeling a small pang of sadness for her. It seemed a shame to wake her.
Hell, she couldn’t weigh that much. He unbuckled her seat belt and reached under the seat to grab a blanket. Wrapping the soft fleece around her, he hoisted her out, pausing to kick his truck door shut as he headed up the walk with her in his arms.
Larissa moaned softly in her sleep but didn’t stir. Clay was trying to figure out how to knock on Reese’s door without waking Larissa when the door swung open and Reese stood there in her bare feet looking up at him.
“She’s asleep?” Reese whispered.
“No, I clubbed her over the head and wanted to bury her dead body in your backyard.” Clay stepped around her into the warmth of the living room. “I’d actually say passed out is a better description than asleep. I think she had a lot to drink.”
“Not the first time,” she said, biting her lip. “We can put her in the guest room. I keep a bed made up for her.”
Clay raised an eyebrow. “You have a guest room in this place? Doesn’t seem big enough for an extra dish towel.”
