Clay's Hope (14 page)

I studied Peter. He was crazy about Rachel.
I could see it in the way he looked at her and touched her, and I
could smell it. If they were my kind, I would have surely scented a
Claimed pair. How could he stand being apart from her each
night?

“We’re sure,” Gabby said, waving them toward
the door. “Don’t come home early.”

When the door closed behind them, she
exhaled slowly and turned toward me. I reluctantly let my hand
drop. She smiled at me nervously.

“Home free. Thank you, Clay.”

I put my hand back in my pocket and waited.
Would she ask me to change back? Tell me to leave?

“Um...” She seemed just as uncertain as I
was. She took a breath. “Did you want to do something since we’re
both dressed up?”

She wasn’t going to send me away? I
shrugged, trying not to show how happy she’d just made me. I didn’t
want to ruin my chance to spend time with her in my skin.

“You can talk to me, Clay,” she said.

Oh, I wanted to. I wanted to tell her how
beautiful she looked right now. And ask if I could touch her hair.
But, I kept my mouth shut. She wasn’t ready. She’d run.

“Okay, do you want to go out or stay
in?”

Stay in. I figured, deep down, she wanted
that too. I moved to the couch and sat in the middle.

She hesitated then looked at the space
available on each side of me. I loved watching the warm light in
her soft brown eyes as she considered her options.

“I’m going to go change.” Her voice shook.
“I’ll be right back.”

My heart stalled, and as she turned, I
sprang from the couch. She couldn’t leave. If she did, she might
not come back out of the room. I caught the back of her shirt
between my thumb and finger. She froze and ever so slowly looked
over her shoulder at me. I tilted my head at the couch.

Please don’t go, I thought.

Desperate, but trying hard not to show it, I
gave her shirt another gentle tug.

She took a slow, deep breath and hesitantly
moved back to the couch. I wanted to go sit by her, but I knew
she’d probably bolt. I could smell her near panic. Walking to the
TV, I tried to figure out what I could do to ease her uncertainty
of me. I picked the comedy I’d borrowed from one of the neighbor’s
homes. It was one Gabby had mentioned wanting to see.

I pressed play, stood, and walked toward the
couch. She watched me closely, and I wanted to stand taller because
of it.

Sitting next to her, I tried to focus on the
previews. It was no good. I’d sat too close. Her scent wrapped
around me, as usual, but her leg pressed lightly against mine.
Despite two layers of material, it felt too much like skin on skin.
My gut clenched with want.

It took half the movie for her to start to
relax beside me. Then, she laughed at something. Though I stared at
the TV, I had no idea what had just happened. I remained completely
focused on her. But the sound of her amusement made me chuckle. I
wanted to hear that sound every day of my life.

When the movie ended, she leaned forward to
stand. The motion hitched up her skirt an innocent inch. Innocent
or not, I knew I needed to calm down. As she moved to the TV, I
shifted and slipped out of my clothes at the same time. Moving with
the blurred speed that came natural to my kind, I folded the
clothes neatly so she would know I appreciated her gift and set
them on the couch. Then I left via the front door.

I ran fast and hard for ten minutes,
covering miles before returning to the back porch. A hint of
buttery saltiness drifted in the air, and I heard Gabby moving
around within the kitchen. Changing directions, I went to the
front. I opened the door and smelled popcorn. Quietly, I closed the
door and settled onto the couch in my fur to wait for her.

She stepped into the room a moment later
with a big bowl in her arms, spotted me, and smiled. She was happy
to see me.

“There you are. Want some popcorn?”

She turned around and went back into the
kitchen, got another bowl for me, and set it on the floor by the
couch. I wasn’t sure if it was because she was seeing me as a dog
or because there wasn’t much room left on the couch. Then she
settled in next to me and curled her legs up to tuck her feet under
me.

Why hadn’t she done this when I was a man? I
sighed, moved closer, and laid my head on her legs. She’d asked me
to change into my skin for her, I reminded myself. Our relationship
was growing. She’d come to accept me in my fur. She’d do the same
with my skin. But would it be in time? At the rate we were moving,
her acceptance would come long after the six-month mark.

I only half watched the movie that played.
Mostly I focused on her. What would it take to move things
along?

She absently ate a piece of popcorn, and my
heart skipped a beat. How could I react to her like this all the
time, but she barely reacted to me at all? I couldn’t think like
that. It wasn’t a fair comparison. Like she’d said in the
beginning, she was human. She didn’t have the instincts I did. I
needed to help her see I was meant to be the one for her.

She glanced at me as if sensing my regard
and then smiled. She offered me a piece of her popcorn. I nipped it
from her fingers. I wasn’t hungry. I just wanted a taste of her. My
tongue barely swept against her finger, but she didn’t seem to
mind. She ate another piece, then offered me one. The fourth time,
I licked the back of her hand. It was a kiss, but would she know
that?

The movie fully captured her attention, and
she stopped eating and feeding me. I shifted my position, lying
closer to her.

When the movie ended and she got up, I
wanted to groan and pull her back. Sure, we slept in the same room
every night and read side by side, but this had been actual
snuggling; and I wanted more.

Instead of going to the kitchen with the
bowl, she set it on the floor and moved to the TV to start another
movie. I grinned. She’d liked it too, hadn’t she? The smile was
well suppressed when she turned around and rejoined me.

The second movie was more action-suspense
than comedy. Halfway through the movie, she’d dug one of her hands
into the fur at my neck, and the other lightly worried one of my
ears. She was nervous because of the movie, and I was turned on as
hell.

The front door opened just then, and Gabby
jumped—nearly yanking my ear off—and screamed. Yeah, that helped
cool me down, as did Rachel’s stunned face.

“And that’s why I don’t watch suspense
movies,” Gabby said, putting a hand to her heart. Rachel and I both
started laughing.

Gabby was just so damn cute. I kissed her
exposed stomach and settled down.

She gently tugged on my ear. “Cut it out,”
she said softly.

So she did know when I kissed her. The
insight made me want to try again. Too bad Rachel was watching.

“When did Clay leave? I thought he’d still
be here after you said I shouldn’t hurry home.” Rachel kicked off
her shoes and flopped sideways on the chair.

Gabby turned off the movie. “Nah, I turned
my back, and he took off on me.”

She patted me on the head, and I snorted. If
I would have stayed, she would have been the one running out the
door.

“It’s okay, though, I have my favorite guy
here.”

Inside, I soared.

“He was a little scary looking if you ask
me,” Rachel said.

Scary? That was the clothes, not me.

When Rachel reached over to pet me, I moved
slightly and arched a brow at Gabby. She better say I wasn’t
scary.

Gabby looked like she wanted to laugh.

“When I first met him, I told him he looked
like a crazy man. I still think he’s crazy, but he’s also nice and
dependable.”

I sighed. I was scary, crazy, nice, and
dependable; but the idiot repairman had been hot?

“So does he ever act like Scott?” Rachel
asked.

“No way,” Gabby said quickly. “Most guys
talk about themselves to try to impress me, or they just act scary
obsessive. Clay’s different. I don’t think I affect him like I do
other guys.” She paused for a long moment. “I think he just likes
being with me.”

Finally! She got it.

“And I’m grateful that I get to be normal
around him.”

Rachel laughed. “You sound like you’re
really serious about him. Why didn’t you talk about him before
this? And why didn’t you say the dog had the same name? We could
have changed it.”

I watched Gabby, wondering how she’d explain
around that.

“I wasn’t sure if or when he’d make an
appearance. And I like the name Clay. Besides, he doesn’t
mind.”

Rachel made a small noise neither agreeing
nor disagreeing.

“We should probably talk about overnight
visitors,” Rachel said. “What rules do we want to set?”

“Um...no loud noises?”

“Come on!” Rachel laughed louder. “I meant,
weekends only? Maybe guests till midnight on weekdays? Notice
needed? You know, that kind of stuff.”

Rachel’s grin said she was up to something.
It probably had to do with Peter, who’d been standing outside the
front door the whole time.

“I don’t know. I trust you and your
judgment, and you can trust my lack of a social life. I really
don’t think I’ll see Clay very often, so you don’t need to
worry.”

“Oh, he’ll be back. I saw the way he watched
you. Are you sure the only rule you can come up with is no loud
noises?”

“Yeah, I think we’re fine.”

“Great!” she said with a huge grin. Then she
cupped her hands and yelled, “Peter!”

The front door immediately opened, and a
sheepish looking Peter entered.

“You were supposed to text me,” he muttered
uncomfortably.

Gabby laughed. “Come on in, Peter. Clay and
I were just going to bed.”

Definitely. I jumped off the couch, and
Gabby moved to follow me.

“Night, guys,” she said as we walked into
her room.

“Another early Friday night for us,” she
whispered after she closed the door.

She got into bed, and I jumped up on the
end. I didn’t mind an early night if it meant lying with her.

Gabby stayed awake a long time, and I
wondered if she could hear the giggling and other noises coming
from Rachel’s room, too.

Gabby shuffled out
of her room. She hadn’t fallen asleep until early morning. I hadn’t
slept well either, thanks to the love noises coming from Rachel and
Peter.

I followed Gabby closely, unhappy that Peter
was not only still in the house but also taking a shower. Gabby
didn’t seem to notice. She went straight to the fridge, stood in
front of the open door for several long minutes, then looked around
the room. Her gaze locked onto the orange juice container in the
recycling bin.

She glanced at me, and I wanted to shake my
head in denial. I had nothing to do with emptying that drink. I had
tried a sip of it once, just to see why she liked it so much. I’d
left it alone after that. She shared enough with me already.

A noise in the bathroom diverted Gabby’s
attention. She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes in that
direction, and I heaved a sigh of relief.

“Great. Another non-coffee person,” she
said.

She shuffled to the faucet, grabbed a glass,
then tipped the handle. She started to mumble as she jiggled the
handle in earnest. It wobbled loosely, and the water didn’t come
out like it usually did.

“Looks like I’ll have to call the hottie
plumber back,” Rachel said as she walked into the kitchen.

“No, thanks,” Gabby said quickly. “And no
big guy showing two inches of crack, either.” She turned off the
tap with only a third of her glass full. “I was going to go pick up
Clay later, anyway. I’ll have him look at it.”

Excitement coursed through me. She wanted me
to wear my skin again.

Rachel looked up in surprise from the coffee
tin. “Really? No-talk, leave-early Clay?”

Quiet woman, I thought, not liking the
skepticism in her tone.

“Yeah, that one. Not the dog.”

“I believe you said you didn’t think he’d be
around much,” Rachel said with an odd grin.

She really needed to stop talking. I didn’t
want Gabby to remember that.

“Don’t remind me. I’m probably going to need
to beg.”

Not likely. I doubted Gabby would need to
beg me for anything ever.

“Does he know much about plumbing?” Rachel
asked as she moved to the sink to fill the coffee pot.

“Don’t know...we don’t talk much.”

Although she said it with humor, I knew that
really bothered her. I watched her set her glass aside.

Soon, Gabby. We’ll talk soon.

* * * *

After Peter and Rachel left, Gabby emerged
from her room dressed for the day.

“Wanna come shopping with me or stay
here?”

Silly question. I walked to the door, and
she drove us to the grocery store. As usual, I waited in the car as
she strode across the parking lot.

It took almost an hour for her to reappear;
and when she did, she moved fast as if she expected someone to come
tearing after her. I watched behind her closely. No one was
following her.

She caught my gaze and smiled at me. Then
her gaze drifted to the truck pulling into the spot next to us. I
turned and saw a man getting out. His determined, possessive
expression had me tensing. What was it with human men around
Gabby?

“Hi, there. Need a hand?” the man said as
Gabby stopped her cart near the trunk of our car.

“No, thanks. I got it.”

The man didn’t move away.

“My name’s Dale. I own Dale’s Auto Body on
South Mitchell. You should bring your car by. It looks like it
might be due for an oil change.”

What? I’d just changed it. Don’t believe
him, Gabby, I thought to her.

“That’s a nice offer, but my boyfriend does
the oil changes,” she said as she opened the trunk, momentarily
blocking my view. My heart seized for a minute. Did she know?