Page 34 of Saved By Noel
Clara freezes, likely about to take flight away from this uncomfortable setup. Ishouldtake flight,shouldsuggest we go back to the table. But that primitive part of my brain is locked in on the soft skin of her hand in mine. The blue of her eyes up close. Her pumpkin spice scent filling my nostrils.
After a split-second’s hesitation, I resume the quick-quick-slow movements to guide Clara on the floor and keep her body close to mine.
“So, is the two-step a class you take in school down here?” Clara asks, voice breathy.
Her joke catches me off guard, and I laugh. Her eyes warm in response, crinkling at the edges as she smiles.I could lose myself in those eyes.
“You caught us—we forgo subjects like chemistry in the name of two-step fluency,” I reply. A blush of pink shades the skin beneath her freckles. I wasn’t purposely making a chemistry joke. But I’m earning an A+ in science class, given the bubbling reaction burning inside me, hotter and hotter the longer she’s in my arms.
The music changes tempo as “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” by Lady A starts playing. Clara’s hand tenses in mine as the surrounding couples sway to the slower beat. I ignore the alarm bells sounding in my mind and drop my right hand slightly lower to her waist, pulling her a touch closer to a more natural slow-dance position.
Clara relaxes slightly, following my lead. Her left hand slips down from its two-stepping position on top of my shoulder until her palm is resting on my chest. Her fingertips are gentle on my shoulder, but they may as well be lit sparklers for the heat they’re shooting through my back and chest.
In sync with the song lyrics, I’m finding it difficult to take my eyes off Clara’s. My attention is diverted to her mouth, however, when she licks and purses her lips. Like she’s trying to stop herself from saying something, ordoingsomething with those lips. The same way I am. The tension between us is inching into dangerous territory, so I clear my throat. “Um, it seems like you and Syd have hit it off.”
My comment breaks the spell, and Clara blinks twice. She shakes her head slightly before glancing over at Syd and Davis nearby. There’s no room for Jesus between them, and their googly-eyed expressions are more akin to high schoolers than a married couple in their thirties. Clara huffs a small laugh at the sight before returning her eyes to mine.
“Absolutely. Syd is full of life. And easy to talk to. I’m excited to get to know her even better the more time I spend here,” Clara responds. Her voice starts off breathy, but gathers strength as she talks. “And Davis is a hoot, not to mention little Addie and Junior. I’m excited to spend more time with all of them.”
I’m completely lost in her gaze, drowning in the deep blue sea of her eyes. “You’re not wearing contacts,” I comment without thinking, and those blue eyes widen.
Great going, man. Just admit to intensely studying her eyes. Subtle.
“I mean, ah, you were wearing glasses that night I brought your plant to your cabin,” I stumble to recover. Unfortunately, there’s no recovery from my initial comment that sounded more like a confession.
“Oh, yeah, I have twenty-twenty vision, but my eyes don’t focus the way they’re supposed to,” she explains. Although her eyes appear perfectly focused on mine. “The prescription helps my eyes stay in focus so they don’t get as tired. I always wear them when I’m working or reading, but not when I’m out and about.”
I’m suddenly uncomfortably hot, chest tight. Maybe it’s the lyrics to the song playing, maybe it’s the intoxicating proximity of Clara’s body close to mine. Maybe it’s my blundering admission about staring into her eyes, maybe it’s hearing her talk about my best friends like they’re her friends too. Or, maybe the combination of everything finally breaks the gauges of my internal warning system.
You’re already losing yourself. Back away, Clark!
I abruptly stop dancing, breaking off physical contact with Clara. “Um, I think I should go pick up Chase from Pops’ place before it gets too late. Old man needs his rest. I’ll see ya around.”
The stunned expression on Clara’s face—far too similar to the face she had when I crumpled her paper—grips my heart with guilt. But not enough to negate the urgent need to put space between us.
I toss some cash on the table for Jake and hightail it out of the bar.
Chapter twenty-one
Clara
Christmas music is playing, my cozy robe is on, and a steaming mug of hot cocoa warms my hands. I slowly rock in the chair on my back deck in the quiet darkness. All perfect conditions for relaxation.
But I’ve never felt less relaxed in my life. And it’s all Clark Noel’s fault.
My mind was already overloaded with information leaving Sydney’s house today. Hearing more about Clark’s background, about all the traumatic elements that have added up to the man he is today . . . it made me want to hug Clark and punch some people simultaneously.
But then my mind tipped over the edge, watching Clark walk to our table. Davis and Syd obviously schemed the whole thing, but I’m not sure it went exactly according to plan. At least, I assume their plan didn’t end with Clark beelining it out of the bar like the building was on fire after dancing with me.
I don’t want to remember the strength of his hand on my waist or the sensation of his calloused fingers holding mine. I don’t want to remember the way the flecks of gold in his eyescrowded out the green the longer he held my gaze. I don’t want to remember the cold-plunge sensation washing over me when he dropped my hand mid-dance and ran away.
I don’t want to remember. But it’s all I can think about.
I sigh.
Slipping inside the sliding door, I lock it shut and take a seat at my writing desk. I have four different movie script files that I’ve created, only to stop a few pages in when I realize I hate them. I just can’t seem to find the right inspiration.
Perching my glasses on my nose, I’m reminded of Clark’s comment about me not wearing contacts. The thought of him peering that intently into my eyes makes me flush with warmth.
