Page 86 of Let It Breathe
“Be careful, okay?”
“With boys or with beer?”
“Yes.”
Larissa nodded. “Thank you. For caring, I mean. And for rescuing me.”
Clay nodded and stood up. “I’m sticking this on her nightstand now. Please don’t sneak in there and read it, okay?”
“You take away all my fun.”
“I doubt that.”
Clay crept back into Reese’s room, glad to see she hadn’t stirred. He stood there for a few seconds, watching her chest rise and fall. One edge of the sheet had slipped beneath her left breast, and he reached down to pull it up for her. His fingers grazed her warm flesh and he nearly lost his mind as she stirred and smiled in sleep.
It was all he could do not to bend down and kiss her. He knew this was better, that they needed to protect whatever was happening between them until they had time to sit down with their clothes on and talk things through. He set the note on her nightstand and backed out of the room, still reluctant to take his eyes off her.
At last, he closed the bedroom door behind him. Larissa had gone back to bed or to the bathroom or something, so Clay didn’t have anyone to say goodbye to as he opened the front door and stepped out into the damp night air. The frogs and crickets conducted a noisy symphony in the darkness, and somewhere Clay heard a train whistle. He breathed in the scent of wet earth and fermented fruit and the grassy scent of Reese still clinging to his skin.
He pulled the front door shut behind him, and crept quietly across the gravel driveway to the spot where he’d parked. The truck door creaked loudly as he opened it, and Clay winced. As he climbed in, he closed it as softly as he could. Reese’s window was only a few feet away, not to mention her parents’ house just across the vineyard. Sound carried out here.
He eyed the slope of the driveway and decided to coast to the flat spot before cranking the engine. He stuck the key in the ignition and flicked the lights, releasing the emergency brake. The truck began a slow roll down the driveway, gravel popping under the tires.
Clay was so focused on making a silent exit that he almost didn’t see it. He wasn’t sure what caught his eye exactly—a moving shape? A person? A car?
Or just the thick plume of gray smoke curling slowly up from the side of the winery barn.
“Oh, shit,” he said, and slammed on the brakes.
Chapter 12
Reese was still mostly asleep when she patted the mattress beside her and found it empty. She frowned. The sheets were damp, and the room still smelled like sex, but the space next to her felt cold.
She opened her eyes, blinked in the darkness, then closed her eyes again.
She hadn’t expected Clay to still be there, but still. Even in her sleep-addled state, it was tough not to be a little disappointed.
Weren’t you the one who left before he woke up fifteen years ago?
Reese thought about that for a moment, trying to remember the details. They’d only known each other a few weeks at that point, and she’d felt daring and grownup having her first tipsy fling. She’d crept out while he was sleeping, that was true. And they’d really never talked about it after that. She and Eric had started dating seriously within a few weeks, and the engagement and marriage just sort of snowballed from there.
Eric’s a safe choice, she’d assured herself back then. A good friend and a dependable husband. Not the kind of guy who’d get wasted and walk into chemistry class holding a banana like a gun while pretending to be a Stormtrooper.
So her only night with Clay had remained a secret. They’d never even acknowledged it until a few days ago.
A wailing in the distance jerked Reese’s mind from her memories and back into the present. She sat up in bed, listening.
Sirens?
She craned her neck, trying to peer out the window. The flicker of red-and-white lights pulsed back at her, coming up the gravel driveway with alarming speed.
Shit.
She scrambled out of bed, her feet tangling briefly in her discarded bra. She fumbled in the dark for clothing, coming up with the black dress she’d peeled off earlier when Clay was watching. Her arms tingled at the memory, but she tossed the dress aside and reached for the light switch.
She started grabbing clothes from a pile in the corner. Yoga pants, dirty T-shirt—where did she throw that bra? She cursed as she wriggled it on, wishing she were one of those women who could dash out the door without one. She shoved her feet into her clogs and grabbed a fleece sweatshirt off the hook on the back of her door.
“Reesey?” Larissa’s voice echoed high and panicked from the living room. “Something’s happening.”
