Page 43 of Saved By Noel
Clark’s deep laugh fills the air. “I’m kidding, Clara. I mean, of course, there are snakes in the river; it’s their natural habitat. But I won’t let ’em getcha, I promise.”
His baseball cap is now backward, and his sunglasses are off. I have a clear view of the crinkle lines around his eyes as a wide grin lingers from laughing. He pulls my tube closer to the shore, then holds his hands out to help me stand up. My eyes snap magnetically to Clark’s tattoo, mentally cataloging the specifics of the design—bare tree, storm clouds, lightning, raindrops trailing the tree trunk and dripping from the roots.
I gulp and place my hands in his. He gives an effortless tug to lift me to my feet in the knee-deep water. My foot slips in the slimy mud, but Clark catches my elbow to steady me. I’m now face-to-chest with Clark’s chiseled pectorals, and I can’t stop the hitch in my breath. His grip on my elbow momentarily tightens before releasing me.
“You steady now?” he asks, voice husky.
“Mm-hmm!” I squeak, finally moving my eyes to his face. A torrent of emotions seems to be flashing through his eyes. Possibly a lot of the same emotions flashing through me. I don’t miss Davis and Syd smirking from the shore as they watch us.
Syd is going to be insufferable now,I think as I drop Clark’s hand and make my way out of the water.Absolutely, positively insufferable.
Chapter twenty-seven
Clark
Today has been the best day I’ve had in, well, a long while.
Yesterday afternoon, I got a call from the pet food company that they’re officially moving forward with the purchase of the old Byers plant. I haven’t told anyone yet since the details aren’t settled, but it’s relieving to know there’s a solid plan for the building. A plan that can secure jobs for Noel residents.
Consequently, I came into this float trip in a good mood. Such a good mood that even being alone with Clara, Syd, and Davis couldn’t put a damper on it. Or maybe that fact amplified the good mood. I’m too confused to know, and too afraid to try to sort it out.
Hanging out as the four of us felt so natural. Like it was exactly how I should be spending my free timeallthe time. But I’m not the type of guy for the type of relationship that a girl like Clara is looking for. So, I’ve spent all day halting those thoughts in their tracks every time they rear their heads. It’s an exhausting game of whack-a-mole.
Pretty sure I officially lost the game the moment I pulled Clara out of her inner tube. She stood there, inches away from me, in her swimsuit top and jean shorts. Her curly ponytail was disheveled from a day on the water, her freckles popping from the sun. I thought I was going to have to call out to Davis to rescue me from kissing her.
I shake my head to clear the mental picture for the hundredth time since we sat down to eat dinner. We’d made a simple meal of watermelon, chips, and hot dogs cooked over a small campfire on the beach. The sun is dipping below the horizon when we pull out the bag of marshmallows.
The sound of Syd’s phone cuts through the air. “Oh, it’s my mom; let me answer.”
We only hear Syd’s side of the conversation, but it quickly escalates into alarm. “When?! How? Where?” Davis is on his feet now, crowding close to her to try to hear. “Okay, we’ll meet you there.”
She turns to us with panicked eyes. “Junior was jumping in our bed and hit his head on the frame. Mom said he’s going to be fine, that he’s not even crying, but he needs stitches. We need to go meet them at the urgent care.”
“Oh no!” Clara gasps.
“Shoot,” Davis says, quickly pivoting around to pack up the cooler.
“Leave it; I’ll clean everything up,” I tell him. There’s no urgent care in Noel, so they’ll have to drive thirty minutes to the next town over. “Hit the road and get to your kid.”
“Thanks, man,” Davis responds before they start running to his truck. Syd skids to a stop and swivels back toward us.
“Wait, Clara!” she says.
“I got her, Syd. I’ll find someone to come give us a ride back to my truck, then I’ll take her home. Just go!” I yell. Seconds later, they’re peeling out of the parking lot.
I turn to face Clara. “So . . . you want to go ahead and leave?”
It’s getting darker by the second, which means I can’t see Clara’s face clearly. But I can see enough to know she’s staring straight at me, assessing. She bites her lip, and now I’m thinking about kissing her again. But this time, there’s no Davis to rescue me if I need it.
Back away!The alarm bells sound.
Before I can make a move, she says, “We could stay and roast marshmallows. I mean, if that’s okay with you.”
“Yeah, okay,” I respond, sitting back down in my lawn chair. Clara sits next to me, and I hand her a roasting stick with a marshmallow on it. We sit silently roasting marshmallows for a few seconds. It only takes those few seconds before I’m thinking about her lips again.
“Perfectly toasted or burned?” Clara asks.
“Huh?”
