Georgia Clay (Southern Promises Book 1) by KG Fletcher (1)

**FAIR WARNING: This book contains scenes of detailed intimacy and liberal use of profanity. It is intended for readers 18+**

 

Georgia Clay

Southern Promises – Book One

 

Georgia Clay is part of the ~Southern Promises~ collection.

Each book in the series is STANDALONE

* Georgia Clay

* Georgia On My Mind

* Georgia Pine

 

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, places, or events is coincidental and not intended by the author.

If you purchase this book without a cover you should be aware that this book may have been stolen property and reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher. In such case the author has not received any payment for this “stripped book.”

 

Please visit my website at

 

Edited by Vicky Burkholder

Cover art by Eva Talia Designs

 

This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission. The copying, scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions, and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

 

 

 

 

 

 

DEDICATION

 

 

For my husband Ladd, the ultimate cabana-cowboy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

 

Katie Parker walked briskly across the asphalt parking lot toward the hotel as her phone buzzed in her purse for the umpteenth time. Her best friend, Stacey had been dinging and pinging her nonstop for the past hour. Their ten-year high school reunion was in full swing in the outdated hotel near the Interstate, and she could hear the distinct sounds of music thumping through the walls and wafting into the humid night air. A meeting that ran way over and the Atlanta traffic made it impossible for her to get there on time, causing her to curse under her breath. Lateness was one of her biggest pet peeves.

Her heels clicked with purpose as she smoothed her dark hair back, hoping Stacey wouldn’t laugh that she hadn’t had time to change. She was still in her business suit—navy pencil skirt, white blouse and matching blazer looking like the quintessential insurance professional she was.

Folks milled about in the lobby, holding various cocktails while the Nelly track, Hot in Herre could be heard loudly pulsing from the ballroom down the hall. She was sure some of her classmates would be bumping and grinding to that one. Recognizing several people offering nods, small smiles and waves, Katie approached the registration table and immediately recognized former prom queen, Jessica Southers who sat at the helm. She was now Jessica-Southers-Kaufman, having married an Atlanta real estate mogul and living the high life somewhere in Alpharetta. She was gorgeous as ever and appeared to be hugely pregnant.

“Katie Parker!” She squealed with delight, holding out her manicured hand that jingled with a very expensive David Yurman charm bracelet.

“Jessica… Good to see you. How are you?” Katie shook her fingers limply.

She giggled, pulling her hand back and patting her large, protruding tummy. “I’m about to bust! Another girl on the way,” she replied, her voice tinged with sarcasm. Her pink and white maternity dress was a designer, no doubt—the beauty queen’s obvious homage to her sorority at her alma mater, UGA. All the girls wore pink, pink and pinker. Katie couldn’t imagine being addicted to one color. She had heard that Jessica was on baby number four, trying desperately to give her wealthy husband an heir. Instead, he was surrounded by beautiful, towheaded girls dressed in pink.

“Here’s your nametag and your drink tickets. I’m so glad you came!” Her southern drawl was so sweet, it made Katie’s teeth hurt.

Katie took the tag that had a black-and-white photo of her senior yearbook picture on it. She glanced at her eighteen-year-old self and couldn’t help but shake her head. She remembered despising the off-the-shoulder crushed velvet gown and a string of pearls all the girls were required to wear for their last yearbook photo in high school. The famous Cady Studios had come to their school and set up on the rickety stage at the far end of the cafeteria, the room smelling of boiled hot dogs and sugar cookies from the typical lunch served earlier. Stacey had been adamant that Katie keep her hair down during the shoot, the final shot making her look more like Cousin Itt from the Addams Family. She glanced at Jessica’s name tag and couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. Her picture resembled one of those glamour shots that was all the rage back in the day—her hair, makeup, and beaming smile were perfect. The crushed velvet and pearls looked beautiful on her. At least the nametag photo she stuck on her blouse was in black and white so no one could comment on the hot-pink lipstick Stacey had also insisted she wear last minute. Thank God, her style choices had progressed over the years. That, and her substantial paycheck that allowed her access to a stylist who helped guide her into a more professional look when her career took off. Her makeup was minimal, but classic, showing off her big brown eyes and full lips. Her long, drab hair was now streaked with copper highlights and straightened with Keratin treatments to fend off the extreme southern humidity. She was proud of her no-fuss routine and forever grateful to her parent’s good genes. If only she had cared a little more back in high school.

A firm hand gripped her arm pulling her away from the table excitedly. “It’s about time you got here!”

Katie stumbled in her pointy-black heels before quickly walking beside her best friend into the back end of the ballroom where several bars had been set up. Stacey bellied up to the bar and yelled over the loud music the DJ was playing.

“Another Cosmo for me and a gin and tonic for my friend! Tanqueray if you have it!”

The bartender nodded as Stacey drew Katie in eagerly, speaking closely into her ear. “He’s here.”

Her eyes widened as she looked around the room for Stacey’s former high school boyfriend, Brent Rowan. “Really?”

She nodded. “I’ve already said hello.”

Stacey and Brent were inseparable back in the day, the two of them joined at the hip. Katie was always the third wheel when they would hang out on campus, but she didn’t mind. Brent was like a big brother to her. They had called themselves “The Three Musketeers” rarely doing anything at school without each other. They sat together during countless pep rallies, football games and band concerts. Katie swore he and Stacey would eventually get married. But when the time came for all of them to go off to separate colleges, their Musketeer-bond was broken. Brent eventually married and settled somewhere in North Georgia. They had only recently learned that he was now single.

Stacey handed her the gin and tonic and enthusiastically grabbed her elbow, leading her to a vacant table covered in multicolored confetti and several old yearbooks.

“Did he tell you himself that he’s divorced?” Katie asked.

“Yes. I told you we’ve been texting over the past month. And Jessica confirmed it when I checked in. She’s got the scoop on everyone, of course. I’ll bet she couldn’t wait to give me that news.” Stacey’s green eyes sparkled. “Did you see Annette? She looks like a blowfish!” She erupted in a bout of giggles and Katie was suddenly taken back to those old high school feelings of judgment, curiosity, and jealousy. Her chest expanded with gratitude, thankful she was an adult now. High school was fun, but she would never want to go back to those days of puberty and angst.

“Geez, girl! You didn’t have time to change clothes?”

Katie was aware that her BFF was giving her the once-over in the dim light. She sat up straight and sipped from her glass. “Some of us had to work,” she chastised.

Stacey rolled her eyes. “Well, you aren’t gonna get lucky in that outfit tonight, that’s for sure. At least take off your blazer and let your hair down. We’re on a mission, girl!”

With all the obviously married couples in the room, Katie wasn’t so sure how she’d fare picking up a guy at their high school reunion. In fact, it seemed kind of pointless. She eyed her friend’s outfit which showed off her cleavage pushed up in a daring off-the-shoulder blouse making her look like a pin-up girl. Her faux-leather pants hugged all the right curves, accentuating her perfect, tight ass. Stacey was a professional yoga instructor and had the hot body to prove it. She owned a thriving studio in the affluent part of Buckhead where the rich and privileged southern women in that area swarmed. Flaunting her perfect body was something she had always done, much to Katie’s chagrin.

Neither one of the two friends had taken the marriage plunge since graduation. Stacey had come close, accepting a proposal from a no-nonsense lawyer she’d met on Match.com, but things fizzled pretty quickly when they realized they weren’t on the same page when it came to children and careers. Of course, Stacey wanted kids, but she also wanted to continue to work and handle her own business. She wasn’t the type to give up everything she had worked so hard for to be a Southern-stay-at-home-mom like her fiancé insisted. It just wasn’t in her. Katie had never come close to any kind of long-term commitment. She dated off and on and had several suitors over the years, but no one who ever felt like the one.

“Here, let me help.” Stacey stood and grasped the clip that held Katie’s hair in an up-do. Thick waves tumbled over her shoulders. “Now, take off that jacket and unbutton at least three buttons.”

Katie shook her head as she peeled off the blazer and hung it over the back of her chair. It was no use arguing with her bestie. She unbuttoned the top button of her white blouse.

“Two more…” Stacey insisted.

She unbuttoned two more and palmed her chest making sure her lacy, white bra wasn’t showing.

“There! Now you’re ready to party! Come on!”

Stacey grabbed her by the hand and pulled her onto the packed dance floor filled with their aging classmates. Pink’s Get this Party Started was blaring as large LED lights spun and flashed from heavy light stands in the corner aimed at the dancers. Katie couldn’t help but grin, watching her friend strut her stuff as onlookers gawked. Yep, she was hot.

“Katie-bear!”

She turned at the sound of the recognizable male voice to see Brent dancing toward them. He had a familiar, boyish smile underneath his mature face. His hairline had receded a bit. Otherwise, he looked exactly the same.

“B!” She shouted, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him. He smelled musky with just a hint of whiskey on his breath.

The Three Musketeers danced in a circle together, their faces radiating pure joy. When the song ended, the crowd roared and clapped. The DJ brought it down a notch and played a slow song. Katie smiled and winked at her friend as Brent held his hand out, asking Stacey to dance, just like old times. It was déjà vu all over again.

Making her way back to the table, she stopped and chatted with a few old friends before settling down to finish her gin and tonic. She recognized the quarterback of the football team surrounded by his same entourage from the past. They were still loud and obnoxious, throwing back bottles of beer with their wives leaning in and talking animatedly among themselves. A mirror ball slowly twirled in the center of the ceiling making the whole room look like it was covered in falling stars. The slow song was nostalgic; her heart suddenly yearned for the glory days of youth when she didn’t have a care in the world. As she sipped and finally relaxed for the first time all day, her eyes wandered over to the entryway where she caught a glimpse of a very handsome man signing something for a couple of women. One of them held up a cell phone and took a selfie with him. She watched, trying to remember who the guy was.

“Ladies? How about another round?” Brent asked while pulling a chair out for Stacey to sit. “Don’t tell me. Cosmo for Stace and ginny juice for Katie-bear?”

Katie laughed. “You know it!” She watched him amble off toward the bar.

Stacey leaned in closely. “He’s staying here tonight. Wanted to know what I was doing after the festivities.”

She eyed her best friend like a mother would to a teenager begging for a sleepover. “You sure about this?”

“Oh, hell yes!” she shrieked, digging through her purse and pulling out her lip gloss.

“Stace? Who is that guy over there?” She pointed toward the entryway and watched the handsome man throw his head back and laugh among the group surrounding him.

Stacey swiveled her body effortlessly to look over her shoulder to where Katie was pointing, recognition immediately crossing her flushed face. She turned back with an eyebrow raised. “Don’t you remember the guy everyone used to call, ‘Cowboy’? That’s him. He’s some big wig in Nashville now or something. You oughta go over and say ‘hey.’ He’s kinda cute, don’t you think?”

Katie propped her head onto her hand and leaned on the table. “That’s ‘Cowboy?’ You mean, Clay Watkins, right? The new kid who came our senior year?”

“Cowboy, Clay, whatever,” Stacey replied. Brent was back at their table handing out drinks, diverting her attention once again.

With her best friend preoccupied, Katie studied Clay from afar. He was a lot taller than she remembered, his lean physique fitting perfectly in black denim. His dark hair was longer than most guys, curling around his ears and neck. His muscles bulged in the tight tee he wore as he shoved his hands into his pockets. She vaguely remembered him from their Senior Variety Show. He was tall and gangly back then; a shy boy who had moved to Atlanta the summer before their senior year. She had felt sorry for him. He kept mostly to himself and it was only during that last week of school where people really took notice of him. The brave boy got up on stage the night of the show with an acoustic guitar and sang a song he had written. It was very John Mayer-ish, and the audience went wild when he finished. She remembered feeling something back then when he performed—something like a premonition that he was going to go far with his amazing talent.

She looked to her right and noticed Brent and Stacey smiling back at her. Brent had his arm stretched across the top of Stacey’s chair. The flashbacks of them as a couple in high school were uncanny.

“What?”

“He’s single, and he’s very successful,” Brent announced with a devilish grin.

Perplexed, Katie leaned back into her chair taking a hefty sip of her drink. “So?”

“Girl! You need to at least say hello. I remember back in the day you were really impressed by his performance.”

“I was?”

Stacey ignored her last comment and turned to Brent, their faces inches apart. “Do you remember the variety show and that stupid dance we did?”

Hip-hop was all the rage when they were seniors and Stacey had somehow talked Brent into joining her on the stage as a faux-bodyguard. Dressed in head-to-toe black and sunglasses, her devoted boyfriend stood during the entire song with his arms crossed while Stacey danced around him. It was hysterical.

“How could I ever forget?” he chuckled. Katie knew right then her best friend was going to get lucky that night by the way they were looking at each other.

“I need the ladies room. Care to join me?” she asked.

Stacey looked up with big, green eyes. “I’m okay right now.” She offered a sweet, innocent smile. Katie knew that naughty look.

“Suit yourself.”

She was glad to be out of the stuffy, loud ballroom and blinking lights, the cooler, air-conditioned hallway a welcome relief. While washing her hands in the restroom, she chatted with another girl who she had shared oceanography class with many years ago. As she pulled open the bathroom door to exit, she nearly collided with Clay Watkins.

“Whoa!” His baritone voice was smooth like butter.

“Oh God, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to exit without looking.” She stepped back and palmed the wall.

The girl from oceanography exited and eyed the two of them before making her way back to the party.

“Katie Parker, right?”

She swallowed hard while looking into his handsome face, aware that she felt weak in the knees. He was even more attractive up close. His mesmerizing, caramel-colored eyes looked back at her and she couldn’t help but notice right away tiny gold flecks circling the irises. His jawline was chiseled, and his lips were full and wet, no doubt from a sip of something he had just finished. His dark hair was tousled, and she had the sudden urge to bring her fingertips up to his head to get tangled in the softness.

When she realized he had read her full name on the tacky sticker attached to her blouse, she could feel her face grow hot. “Um, yes. That’s correct. And you’re Cow…Clay. Clay Watkins.”

His smile rivaled the sun glinting off the ocean. “Yes. That’s correct.” Was he mocking her?

“Well, it’s good to see you, Clay. How’s life?”

He shrugged and looked down at his boots while shoving his hands into his pockets, making his biceps more noticeable. When his bedroom eyes met hers again, she swooned. “Life is good. How about you?”

The way he was looking at her made her hands tremble with nerves. She grasped them in front of her skirt hoping he didn’t notice. What was happening to her? “It’s good.”

His expression was humored. “Good.”

They stared at each other for several seconds before Clay looked out into the lobby then back at her. Her heart sank, hoping that a lucky female wasn’t waiting for him, his next question taking her by surprise.

“You thirsty? Can I buy you a drink?” He seemed so relaxed and at ease. His invitation had her coming undone. The gorgeous male standing in front of her was nothing like the shy boy back in high school. His charm and easygoing attitude was a total turn-on. The Nelly lyrics inadvertently crept into her mind. It was definitely getting hot in here!

Katie swallowed and couldn’t help but smile. “Sure.” If Stacey could see her now…

He motioned his hand for her to walk ahead. As they entered the lobby, she started to walk back toward the ballroom. His hand was suddenly on her arm pulling her to a stop. Confused, she looked up into his face.

“I was hoping we could hit the lobby bar where it’s not so loud. Is that okay?”

“Okay.” She nodded like a bobble-head doll, her breath momentarily leaving her chest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

 

Clay Watkins was still shy around Katie Parker. It was one thing being in front of a crowd with a guitar in his hands, but entirely another being in front of the girl from high school he had crushed on. Seeing her after all these years took him by surprise. Walking into Lakeside High School that first day ten years ago as the new kid in town, he didn’t know what to expect. The day dragged on with people snickering behind his back, curious eyes watching his every move. The nickname, Cowboy, was instant, probably because of the sturdy boots he wore. The same ones his daddy had bought him at the boot outlet on the outskirts of Nashville for his eighteenth birthday. His daddy drove a big rig and couldn’t help himself wanting to give his son something special for the milestone birthday. The memory of opening that big box and pulling out the fragrant, sturdy leather while his father looked on with pride was one of the top three moments in his life. The bottoms of those boots had been re-soled countless times, the last right before his daddy’s funeral a little over a year ago. He hadn’t worn them since, the memories too painful.

When it came time for his first lunch experience at the new school, he followed the herd of kids into the cafeteria and went through the motion of standing in line and selecting his meal. He knew it was a good sign when they served fried chicken. He loved fried chicken. After he paid the cashier and walked out into the noisy area filled with the jocks, the preps, the goths, and the geeks, he stood there shaking in his boots, wondering where the hell to sit.

Katie Parker was an angel in disguise. The look on her youthful, beautiful face when she approached him was one of empathy and understanding. He couldn’t remember exactly what she said to him among the noisy chatter of the students, only that she was just about the nicest, most sincere person he had met that day. That and the fact her big doe eyes did things to his insides. She invited him to join her and her friends at their table.

Clay sat silently, for the most part, eating his meal and observing the group. He answered a few questions about where he was from and how his first day was going offering one-word answers, never getting too involved. Katie’s best friend Stacey was preoccupied with a big boy named Brent who seemed friendly enough. The two were practically sitting in each other’s laps. He recalled thinking Stacey was kind of cute, but she wore too much makeup, unlike Katie who was a natural beauty. He only ate with them that first couple of days, too shy to keep up the energetic conversations and the constant barrage of questions. Bringing a bagged lunch from home, he opted to sit alone in his pickup truck and eat in peace, jotting down song lyrics in an old spiral notebook he kept in the glove compartment. One of those parking lot songs was inspired by Katie’s kindness and when he would occasionally pass her in the hallway in-between classes, he always offered a genuine smile and polite “hello,” thrilled when she would smile back. He wished he had the guts back then to ask her out, but his shyness as a teenage boy was debilitating. Seeing her here, tonight at the reunion, was an unexpected surprise. Even more surprising was the fact that there was no wedding band on her left hand. Another sign.

“What can I get for you?” he asked.

“Gin and tonic. Tanqueray if they have it, please.”

He nodded and managed to get the bartender’s attention. “Tanqueray and tonic for the lady and Gentlemen Jack on the rocks for me.” The barstool was comfortable, and the room was much quieter than the big ballroom. This was more his style and put him at ease.

“Excuse me for one minute while I text my friend to let her know where I am,” Katie said as she pulled a cell phone out of her purse.

“No problem,” he replied.

The bartender efficiently mixed the drinks and placed them on white cocktail napkins in front of their seats. Clay thanked him and waited patiently for Katie to finish her text before taking a sip.

She sighed, shoving her phone back in her bag and looked right at him with a small smile gracing her full, pouty lips. The urge to tease those lips with his own and gently tug on them with his teeth caught him off guard. He realized he was staring at her mouth and quickly looked up into her eyes. Her brow was creased ever-so-slightly as if she were trying to figure him out. Quickly, he picked up his drink and nodded at her to do the same. They held the heavy glasses in front of themselves.

“What should we drink to?” she asked.

He cocked his head in thought. Words always came naturally to him when he was writing a song. Somehow, trying to come up with words with Katie sitting so close beside him made his mind go completely blank. He could feel heat creeping up his neck.

“I know,” she said. He inadvertently gazed at her full, dewy lips again and could feel a certain appendage stiffening in his pants. “Here’s to the brilliant, sexy company that you keep.” She confidently clinked her glass with his and bit her lip as if suppressing a smile.

“Cheers.” Quickly, he nodded as the heat settled onto his cheeks. Taking a big gulp of his drink, he was uncomfortably aware of the bulge in his jeans that kept growing. Her flirty toast full of innuendos was not helping his situation.

Her face grimaced from her first sip, and she blinked her eyes rapidly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked with concern.

She rolled her eyes humorously shaking her head. “A little heavy on the ginny-juice. Wow!”

“You want me to send it back?”

“No, I’m okay. Once the ice melts a little bit, it’ll be perfect.” Her sweet smile sent a shiver up his spine. She set the drink on the bar and swiveled the stool to look straight at him. “So, where do you live now and what do you do exactly?”

Clay thought everyone from Lakeside High School knew what he did for a living. After graduation, he made a bee-line for Nashville skipping out on the whole college experience. His goal in life ever since he was old enough to pick and strum the strings of a guitar was to live in Nashville and create music. He was the classic “starving artist” in the country music capital for those first five years after high school graduation, playing dive bars and soliciting every label on music row with his demo tapes. When one of his songs piqued the interest of a certain Grammy-award-winning country artist and was released on the radio to rave reviews, his career suddenly took off. In the last few years, he had won numerous awards of his own for original songs and collaborations with other artists. It was a dream-come-true. He was never pretentious about his success, preferring to be in the background and not in the spotlight.

His songs were in high demand, the bonus of which was he never had to worry about money ever again. One song in particular, garnished him more revenue than he knew what to do with when it hit number one on the Billboard charts. It even earned him his very first Grammy, CMA, and American Music Award. Since then, it seemed like everyone in the music biz wanted to record a Clay Watkins tune. He had been dubbed “Georgia Clay” by the diehard country fans, his fame and notoriety taking him by surprise.

After his daddy passed, he had deliberately taken a break from the insanity, secluding himself in his Nashville flat, visiting his mother in Atlanta at her retirement home or spending weeks at a time at the lake house he had bought for his family in North Georgia. He needed to slow down and get back to his songwriting roots and reflect on where he was in his life. When the invitation for the reunion was forwarded to him from the high school, he thought, “why not?” and threw caution to the wind, driving the four hours from Tennessee to Decatur to socialize for the first time in months. It surprised him that so many of his former classmates recognized him, some of them star-struck by his fame in the country music business. He didn’t mind signing a few autographs or taking a couple of selfies. But when the married gals started hanging on his every word with little hearts popping over their heads, he decided he should probably bow out for the night. Running into Katie interrupted that plan, much to his delight.

“Well, I’m a songwriter,” he said quietly, licking his lower lip after taking a hefty swig of whiskey.

“Like, that’s your real profession? Writing songs?” Katie asked looking at him with interest.

“Well, yeah.”

He watched the corners of her pink lips curve into a smile. “I knew it!”

Clay was humored by her enthusiasm. “Really? You barely knew me. How could you know I was going to be a songwriter?”

She shook her head and her eyes seemed to glisten. “I remember you performing at the variety show during our last week as seniors. You played and sang a song that you wrote yourself. It was pretty unforgettable.”

His neck felt hot again, and he picked up his drink to take a quick sip. “Unforgettable? Why? Did I make a complete fool of myself?” His stomach dropped as he waited for her response. For some reason, it really mattered to him what she thought.

“It was…awesome,” she sighed dreamily. “I knew that night that you were going to do something special with your music. You definitely had more talent than anyone else who got up there.” She erupted in a bout of tipsy giggles as if reminiscing about a more innocent time in their lives. “So, do you sell your songs? How does it work exactly?”

He shrugged not wanting to talk about himself and the music business. He wanted to get to know her. “Yep. You play a song for someone or send them a demo. Either they like it and buy the rights to record it, or they don’t.” Draining the last of his whiskey, the ice clinked in his glass and he made eye contact with the bartender indicating he wanted another.

Katie sipped on her cocktail demurely looking over the edge of the glass watching his every move.

“I’d like to know what you’ve been up to since graduation,” he said softly, gazing into her eyes. He was trying to play it cool, thankful for the warm buzz from the liquor that filtered through his hot blood.

Her gaze left him as she fingered the damp cocktail napkin in front of her. “I went to Georgia State and graduated with a business degree. I got lucky after graduation and was hired at a big insurance firm in Atlanta, worked my way up the corporate ladder and live a pretty comfortable life.” Her brown eyes met his. “Nothing extraordinary, like you.”

Clay sucked in a breath and was about to say something when Katie’s best friend interrupted them.

“Here you are!” Stacey was obviously tipsy, her crimson cheeks and bloodshot eyes an indication that she was feeling no pain. She had Katie’s blazer in her hands and laid it over the bar stool next to them. Slinging her arm over Katie’s shoulder, she leaned her blonde head on hers and eyed him inquisitively. “How are you, Clay Watkins? I heard you’re something else in Nash-Vegas.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

Stacey’s perfect eyebrow arched as she stared at him. Katie pulled back from her friend grasping her by the cheeks. “Where’s Brent? Do I need to come back into the ballroom to be with you?”

Stacey smirked. “Noooo… I’m great. Had a couple of shots and danced my ass off.” She suddenly leaned into Katie’s ear and Clay could overhear her whisper, “We’re going back to his hotel room now. Are you good hanging with Georgia Clay here?”

She nodded with wide eyes.

“Yee-haw! Y’all have a good time tonight. I know I will!” She planted a sloppy kiss on Katie’s cheek before leaning in and grazing Clay’s cheek with a kiss as well. “Have fun, Cowboy,” she whispered before slapping him on the back. “I’ll call you tomorrow Katie-bear! Wish me luck!”

The two of them watched Stacey maneuver her way through the tables and chairs in her high heels to the lobby where Brent was waiting. He threw his large hand into the air and waved before pulling Stacey into his body and they disappeared into the night.

“Is your friend okay?”

Katie laughed, draining the last of her cocktail. “She’s pretty excited about reuniting with her high school sweetheart. They’re both unattached and probably very horny.”

His eyes widened, and he had to shift in his seat again. He noticed a pinkish-hue cross her delicate cheek.

“So, you’re ‘Georgia Clay,’ the same guy who wrote all those number ones on the country charts, huh?”

His secret was out. “I’ve written some hit songs. It’s no big deal.” Not wanting her to get carried away with the discovery of exactly who he was, he pulled out his wallet and threw down a couple of bills. “You hungry? I didn’t eat much before this shindig and the alcohol is going straight to my head.”

She nodded enthusiastically. “I missed dinner because I was stuck in a pretty major traffic jam trying to get here on time. What did you have in mind?”

He helped her out of the chair and held open the blazer for her to put her arms in, inadvertently pushing her long hair to the side so it wouldn’t get tucked in. “I have an idea.” His fingers traced the creamy, soft skin of her neck sending a tingling sensation throughout his body.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

chapter three

 

 

The summer cicadas were loud as their late evening song floated in the humid night air. The stars were bright, and Katie could swear they were blinking and winking in celebration for her current situation. Clay had spread an old furniture pad in the back end of his pickup truck and they were enjoying an impromptu picnic of fast-food cheeseburgers, fries, and milkshakes they had picked up along the way. He’d parked the truck in a secluded area by the old high school football stadium not too far down the road from the hotel. Katie had taken her blazer and pointy shoes off and sat with her legs stretched out on the thick blanket with her face turned up toward the sky. The nighttime show Mother Nature displayed was magnificent. With food in her belly, a lingering buzz from the earlier cocktails, and a handsome man by her side, she was feeling pretty good.

“Are the mosquitos getting to you?” Clay asked. One of his relaxed arms hung across the side of the truck and his legs stretched out in front of him with his booted feet crossed at the ankles. She imagined what it would feel like to have his arm draped around her.

“No, they never bother me. I guess my skin tastes pretty bad,” she giggled wrapping her lips around the red straw of her shake and draining the last bit of cold chocolate.

Clay puffed a breath of air through his nose. “I doubt your pretty skin tastes bad.”

She eyed him with raised eyebrows, surprised and delighted by his remark.

“I mean… mosquitos like certain blood types and such. You must not have the kind they like or else they’d be all over you,” he stammered.

She was sure he was blushing, but it was hard to tell in the dark. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

They sat in silence, continuing to listen to the buzzing of the insects and the faint sounds of the interstate traffic whizzing nearby.

“So, what do you do when you’re not working, Katie?” Clay asked.

She shifted her body to where she was lying on her side with her head propped on her bent elbow rubbing her bare feet together. “I dunno. I work all the time. I like to work.”

“Besides work.”

She had to think for a moment. “Well… Stacey and I hook up every week to catch up over cocktails, and I see my family once a month for dinner.”

“Hmmm,” he muttered.

“I’d like to travel more someday, on my own terms, and not because I have to be at a conference for work.”

“Does your job require you to be on the road a lot?” he asked with interest.

“I have to go to the headquarters in Dallas once a month, and then we usually have a national conference in some big city once a year. Last year it was in Memphis.”

“Memphis? Birthplace of Elvis Presley,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Yep. We took a tour of Graceland. It was pretty cool.”

“I’ll bet.”

They sat in silence again before Katie sat up and slowly started to gather their fast-food trash. She wasn’t used to downtime, her idle hands becoming fidgety in the awkward silence. Where this evening was headed, she had no idea.

“Let me help you,” Clay said, getting on his knees and reaching for her yellow cheeseburger wrapper. They both grabbed it at the same time making her giggle again.

“I’ve got it,” she said, shoving it into the open bag he held for her. When they were finished, she swung her legs over the lift-gate of the truck and gripped the metal edge. He followed suit sitting right beside her. They were once again trying to navigate the uncomfortable silence. “So, you’re a pretty quiet guy,” she boldly proclaimed.

“So I’ve been told,” he replied, cocking his head to look at her. In the dim moonlight, she could tell he was smiling as they sat next to each other swinging their legs slowly back and forth, their hands dangerously close. She wished he was more talkative and not so quiet. It was a little bit unnerving.

“Do you ever get inspired to write a song about the stars in the sky?” she asked laying back and looking up, taking in the splattering of silver orbs dotting the black ink panoramic view. She rested her head on her interlocked fingers.

“Sure,” he replied looking up. “There’s inspiration everywhere you look.”

“But have you ever written a song specifically about stars?”

He chuckled. “A song specifically about stars?” He paused. “Well, as a matter-of-fact I wrote a song called, ‘Simplicity’ a few years back that mentioned stars quite a bit. My good friend Dierks Bentley recorded it.”

She quickly sat upright. “Wait a minute, the Dierks Bentley?”

“Yeah.”

“Dierks Bentley, the famous country music singer?”

“That’s the one.”

“Holy shit,” she muttered under her breath. She watched Clay ease himself off the tailgate and walk forward a few steps on the ancient blacktop of the parking lot. He paused and looked up into the sky.

“Sing some of it for me,” she insisted.

“What?” he snickered turning to look at her. His silhouette was dark and masculine in the moonlight.

“Give me a little sample of this song you wrote that Dierks sang so I know which one you’re talking about.” She watched him kick a rock with the pointy-toe of his boot as if contemplating her request.

With his back turned and his hands shoved into his denim pockets, he started to hum. And then he began to sing a familiar melody she had heard countless times on 94.9 The Bull. His voice was comforting and smooth as he sang acapella about kissing a girl under the moon and the stars. Katie sat perfectly still and held her breath realizing just how famous Clay really was. Now she understood the selfies and the autograph signing at the reunion. Everything fell into place and made perfect sense. Georgia Clay, as he was known, was more than just a songwriter. He was a songwriting-force-to-be-reckoned-with. She suddenly knew he was probably friends with a lot of famous people in the music business and not only Dierks Bentley.

“…up in the starry, starry sky.” His last note hung in the air as goose pimples splattered across her bare arms. Nothing was said for several seconds.

“Wow…” Katie could hardly find the words to let him know how incredible his serenade was. “That was…wow.”

“Dierks sings it way better,” he said softly, approaching her. He boldly came right up to where she was sitting and gently placed his hands on her thighs. She almost squealed from his warm touch, instinctively pressing her knees together under her pencil skirt.

“Your version was pretty amazing,” she replied in a whisper, looking up into his shadowed face with wide eyes, aware that her breathing had hitched. Her fingers were suddenly touching a soft curl near his ear. It was as if she had no control over her own hands.

He leaned his face into hers, his breath warm and panting. His lips grazed her cheek and then she felt his hand cup her chin.

“Kiss me, Clay,” she said confidently.

Full lips pressed against her own and she felt his thighs lean against her knees. His hands were in her hair pulling her forward by the nape of her neck, his tongue slipping into the seam of her mouth. She wrapped her arms around him, fully surrendering to the shy, sexy man known in the music business as Georgia Clay. And she immediately saw stars.

He breathlessly pulled back from her and leaned his forehead on hers. Their fingers were tangled together nervously twisting.

“You’re a great kisser,” she mumbled, wishing she could see his full expression. His shadowed face revealed a trace of a smile.

“You are too Katie. Do you mind if we do that again?”

She giggled and hoisted herself off the lift gate of the truck, purposefully standing with bare feet on the tops of his boots. “I wouldn’t mind one bit,” she whispered, reaching her arms around his waist and staring up into his face.

He leaned down and pressed his mouth against hers again, briefly running his tongue across her top lip, making her moan. Katie could feel his hardness rub against her skirt and briefly wondered what it would be like to be naked in his arms.

“You wanna lay on the blanket and look at the stars some more or do you wanna go somewhere else?” he asked, bringing her out of her daydream.

“Umm, yeah. Sure.”

Clay laughed as he caressed the sides of her arms. “Well, which do you want to do? We could hang out here or we could go a little further north to a much quieter spot.”

Katie licked her swollen lips. “Quiet is nice,” she answered hoarsely. “I’m a big fan of quiet.” What was she getting herself into?

Guiding her by the elbow with his warm fingertips, he walked to the passenger side of the truck and opened the door for her. When he got in on the driver’s side, he handed her the blazer and pointy shoes.

“Thanks.”

The interior of the truck cab illuminated Clay’s handsome face as he turned the engine over with the key, the throaty muffler vibrating her seat. He drove on the back streets of suburban Atlanta, avoiding the interstate, while a classic country station played faintly on the radio. They hadn’t spoken since they left the high school, only catching glimpses of each other and offering nervous smiles. A few minutes later, the truck’s wheels went from smooth asphalt to a gravel road, the bumpy ride kicking up dust as the rocks hit the undercarriage making a clanking noise. Katie held onto the oh-my-god strap as her bottom bounced on the front seat. Finally, Clay backed his truck up to a cleared area and parked before turning off the engine. He rested his arm on the seat-back and turned to her.

“We’re here,” he said happily.

“Where’s ‘here’?” she asked looking out into the dark. She had a severe aversion to horror movies and the surrounding area seemed intimidating. The last thing she wanted to do was get out of the truck and explore the creepy surroundings that could be lurking with ax murderers, ghosts, and vampires.

“Put your shoes on, I’ll show you.” He opened the door and got out of the truck, leaving her alone in the cab.

Quickly, she shoved her shoes on her feet and nervously opened the door. She could hear Clay’s crunching footsteps on the gravel coming closer. She could also hear water.

“Come on.” He thrust his hand out for her to take. Katie carefully navigated the uneven terrain in her pointy shoes holding tightly to his hand. They walked a few steps before she gasped.

The full moon illuminated the smooth flow of a river directly below them several yards down an embankment. Clay had backed his truck up to where they had a perfect view of the water.

“Is that the Chattahoochee River?” she asked in awe. The light of the moon cast beautiful, shimmering orbs on the fresh water, her previous thoughts of ghosts and ghouls vanished from her mind.

“Yep.” He stretched his arm out to point as he explained. “It’s flowing from the Blue Ridge mountains southwesterly toward the city. I discovered this place a long time ago. It’s off the beaten path. Not a soul in sight.”

The sound of the water gliding over river rocks was very Zen and peaceful. Katie gazed at the sparkling shimmers on the top of the moving liquid and listened to the symphony of critters creaking and croaking in the summer night. It was an amazing experience. She stood there, lost in a relaxed trance, and didn’t realize Clay had put the lift gate down and spread out the furniture pad again. When she looked around for him, he was sitting on the gate swinging his legs back and forth grinning at her in the soft, romantic haze of the moon. She carefully stepped over the gravel toward him, reaching for his hands. He pulled her in close between his thighs and caressed her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

“I’ve never shown anyone this spot before. You’re the first.”

Katie felt a wave of happiness gush through her entire body and intentionally thrust herself forward to kiss him again. He helped her back up into the truck bed and they lay on the blanket feverishly making out like two pubescent teenagers. His hands groped over her clothes, pulling her taut against his body. She grabbed his jean-covered buttocks feeling a quickening in her lower abdomen. When he suddenly stopped, a swell of disappointment washed over her. She wasn’t the type of girl to throw herself at a guy, but with the way Clay Watkins was kissing her with that delicious mouth of his, it would be easy to throw caution to the wind and let him do whatever he damn well pleased.

“I need to slow down,” he gasped, catching his breath. “I’m so sorry…”

“Sorry about what?” she said, taking in quick breaths in an attempt to slow her heart rate down.

“I just… I’ve wanted to kiss you like, forever.”

“Forever?” she asked, perplexed. It had been ten years since she had laid eyes on Clay. Ten years, and he had been thinking about her?

“Yes. I had the biggest crush on you in high school.”

“What?” Katie sat up in shock and watched him chuckle, leaning his head back on his clasped hands.

“Yes, ma’am. I crushed on you big time.”

She shook her head and couldn’t help the goofy grin that was plastered on her face. Stacey would go out of her mind with this news. Katie couldn’t wait to tell her.

He reached one arm up and tucked her long hair behind her ear, his fingertips lingering on her cheek. “Kiss me again Katie Parker. Please. You’re making a guy’s teenage-dream come true.”

She happily obliged and leaned across his muscular chest to meld her lips with his.

 

 

 

 

 

 

chapter four

 

 

They lay in each other’s arms for hours in the back of Clay’s pickup truck, talking effortlessly and kissing passionately under the sparkling night sky. It was as if making out had released that uncomfortable silence, allowing Clay to lighten up. Time passed quickly, and Katie must have drifted off to the rhythm of the water and the steady song of insects. She woke with a start, lying across his chest, his breathing slow and even in slumber. His firm body was warm as she blinked, trying to wake up, the memories of the night before flooding her mind, causing her to smile. The sun was just starting to rise, and subtle shades of orange and lavender flecked the Eastern horizon as the dark began to fade. She was mesmerized watching the merging colored light of a new day seep up from earth beyond the river and the tall Georgia pines. It was a perfect moment.

She quietly sat up, sitting cross-legged in her hiked-up skirt, with her back erect to take it all in. To bypass the rush-hour traffic on the perimeter, her weekday commute to her job usually started way before the sunrise. By the time she was sitting behind her desk and firing up her computer while sipping on a second cup of coffee, the first light of day would inevitably start to creep in through the blinds, making her shut them tight to avoid the glare off her screen. This was what she was missing out on? This was what she deliberately shut out day in and day out? Stacey would often scold her for missing out on moments like this. “Just be in the moment!” she would say. All her yoga and meditation mumbo-jumbo usually went in one ear and out the other. Not today. She didn’t know if it was because she had woken up in the arms of Clay Watkins or because what she was feeling for the first time in a long time was new and exciting. All she really knew was that she was totally captivated trying to memorize every second of the glorious sunrise of the new day as she tried to just “be.”

“Good morning.” Clay interrupted her thoughts as he pulled himself up beside her and kissed her neck before resting his chin on her shoulder. She shivered from his touch.

“Good morning,” she whispered. They both stared out at the color explosion above the trees.

“Wow. What a gorgeous sky,” he said quietly.

“Mmmhumm,” she replied, aware that his warmth was seeping into her skin like melted butter on toast as he moved even closer.

“I guess we fell asleep after all that talking….”

“And kissing,” she giggled.

“Yes. And kissing.” He nipped at her ear as she turned her face toward him. His lips skated across her mouth and she sighed, surrendering to his incredible tongue.

It surprised her that they hadn’t made it past first base. They had touched each other on the outside of their clothes but hadn’t explored anything further. It humored her that they were two grown-ass adults and she was secretly hoping he would steal second.

She pulled back from him, winded, squinting in the morning light. “You want to go back to my place? I can make you breakfast?” Licking her lips, a thought crossed her mind. “Where are you staying, anyway?”

His handsome smile heated her core as he reached up and pulled a small leaf out of her hair. There was no telling what else might be clinging to her body after being outside in the elements all night. “I have a room at the hotel where the reunion was.”

“Oh…” Her heart sank. What if he had to hit the road and get back to Nashville?

“I was going to see my mama today before I head back to Tennessee, but that’s not till bingo this afternoon.”

“Bingo?” She grinned.

“Yeah.” He looked down at their fingers that were entwined together before he looked back up at her with gorgeous eyes. “I got all morning.”

Her smile in that moment matched the rising sun.

***

“I’ll only be a minute,” Clay said, flipping up the lid of his rolling suitcase that sat on a silver luggage rack. He pulled a couple of shirts off hangers and stuffed them in before disappearing into the bathroom.

Katie wandered over to the desk and looked in the large mirror hanging above. She gasped at her reflection, her messy hair, wrinkled blouse, and faint residue of mascara under her eyes catching her off guard. She rubbed the residue off with her index finger and tried to straighten the fabric of her blouse to smooth it out. It was pointless. She really looked like she had spent the night sleeping on an old furniture pad in the back end of a pickup truck. It was a good thing they were at the hotel bright and early before any of their classmates, including Stacey and Brent, had a chance to get up from their drunken reunion. She doubted they’d see anyone this early which was a relief.

“That should do it,” Clay said, coming out of the bathroom with a black shaving kit in his hands. He looked gorgeous after a night in the truck bed with thoroughly tousled, wavy hair. It wasn’t fair that girls had to work harder at keeping up their appearance. She watched him throw the kit on top of his clothes and zip up the suitcase. He leaned into the closet and pulled out a black leather guitar case, hoisting it over his shoulder. “You ready?”

Her heart skipped a beat. He had his guitar with him. Perhaps she could talk him into another serenade at breakfast?

“Sure. You want me to carry anything?”

He smiled while tossing a white keycard onto the dresser. “No, I’m good.”

*

Clay had never felt so alive in his life. He compared what he was feeling to those special moments when a song would entirely come together between the lyrics and the melody. The way the music would fully draw him in and the words would effortlessly come into his mind. The flow of the rhythm pouring out from his fingers as he strummed a guitar; the low timbre of his voice vibrating throughout his body as he sang. He was finally getting to know Katie Parker and was moved by her. He loved the way she looked at him with her big doe eyes, tilting her head trying to figure him out. The way her hips swung when she walked in her heels—the softness of her hand in his. When they kissed for the first time, his heart surged in his chest with intense pleasure; her lips, tongue, and mouth everything he imagined they would be. Holding her in his arms gave him a warm feeling of pure contentment, one that he wanted to keep on repeat.

It was a total fluke that they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms. The whole night had been magical, and his thoughts raced with new song ideas about what he had just experienced. He wasn’t kidding when he told her he had crushed on her in high school. That was another reason why he was drawn to going to the reunion—to see her. Running into her outside the bathroom was a gift from the universe. She was just as pretty as he remembered, perhaps even more beautiful as an adult. Their conversations were staggered at first, and he hated it when he would revert to the debilitating shyness of his youth. It had taken him years to overcome self-esteem issues he suffered as a child. Music and his success as a songwriter certainly helped, but he still had his moments. Looking back on the evening, he was thankful that once he forged ahead with determination to overcome his unease, he and Katie naturally warmed up to each other.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel while listening to local country radio play one of his hits. It humored him every single time one of his songs would come on the airwaves. To hear his own music being played was always a thrill even though the general public assumed that the artist singing the tune was also the songwriter. He didn’t mind. He preferred to be in the background rather than on the main stage. Sure, he enjoyed playing small halls like the Bluebird Café in Nashville, showcasing his own work, surprising fans with hit after hit. But being front and center in front of thousands of people was not a place he ever aspired to be. The intimacy of creating a song was more his speed. Leave the fame and fanatic fans to the superstars who had grabbed the proverbial brass ring. He was fine with it. He was also pleased with the residual, unfathomable income that came along with owning the rights to his songs. The Georgia Clay wealth that he had accumulated over the years was way more than what a lot of the touring artists made. That kind of tireless, relentless schedule they endured had never been on his radar. He knew he was blessed and never took a day for granted.

Clay followed Katie’s older model BMW in and out of light traffic on the interstate, excited to see where she lived. Her residence wasn’t too far from the highway, in a gated townhome complex near the Perimeter Mall area. He tailgated her car into the secure area and watched as she stretched her arm out the window pointing him toward visitor parking. Mature magnolia and pine trees shaded the complex and colorful begonias and lantana dotted the manicured landscape. When he got out of the truck, she was already approaching him in the parking lot.

“Grab your suitcase so you can freshen up,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Cool.” He grabbed his rolling luggage and his guitar case from the truck cab and walked beside her. The morning was heating up quickly, the humidity already oppressive. “This is a nice place.”

“Thanks.”

“Been here long?” He followed her up a small brick staircase and noticed a pretty grapevine wreath hanging in the center of her front door with bright yellow sunflowers interspersed in the vine.

“About six years. It’s convenient to everything,” she replied happily as she put a key into the lock. A rush of cool air hit them square in the face as they entered, and a beeping sound could be heard from what he assumed was a home alarm. She punched in a code before clicking on the lamp sitting on a quaint hall table. “Why don’t you leave your guitar down here and I’ll show you to the guest room and bath upstairs where you can shower and change if you want to.”

“That’d be awesome.” He was hoping he could clean himself up after spending the night in the bed of his truck. A change of clothes and a toothbrush in his mouth would be decadent, for sure.

“Here you go.” She turned on the overhead light in a small room that had a full-size bed, a dresser and nightstand. The light was attached to an ornate ceiling fan that turned lazily above them. “There’s a private bath through that closed door. Towels are under the sink.” She looked up at him with her doe eyes that made him swoon. “Please, make yourself at home, Clay. I’m thrilled we get to spend some more time together.”

He offered her a sincere smile. “Me too.”

They stood smiling at each other before Katie interrupted their silent conversation. “Okay then, I’m gonna freshen up and then meet you in the kitchen. Sound good?”

“Sounds great.”

A few minutes later, the hot water of the shower rained down on him, cleansing his body from the night outside. He lathered his head with shampoo and couldn’t help but bring one of his hands down to grip the on-going boner in between his legs. Katie’s essence was everywhere. From the bright white towels neatly folded under the sink to the small basket of complimentary travel size toiletries for her guests to use, he could feel her presence. Several replica Picasso paintings and drawings were on the walls of the charming spare room and bathroom, one of which was a simple, yet haunting rendition of a woman lying across her hands, sleeping. As his soapy hand moved back and forth across his thickness, he couldn’t help but wonder if she had ever bathed in this shower, the very thought of her naked body with warm water flowing down her creamy skin making him shudder with want. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, letting the water shroud him as he pleasured himself, Katie’s face at the forefront of his mind. The sexual tension between them was evident. He could have easily taken advantage of the situation with her the night before, but he held back. He wanted the first time they made love to be special.

Stepping out of the shower feeling lighter and fully awake, Clay was immediately hit with the strong smell of coffee. His lips turned up into a smile as he wrapped a towel around his waist. He wiped the fog from the mirror and leaned both hands on the vanity, looking at his reflection. His chin and cheeks were scruffy, but he didn’t want to waste time shaving. He quickly brushed his teeth and ran a comb through his wavy, dark hair before getting dressed. He was more than ready to spend quality time with Katie.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter five

 

 

Katie hurriedly set the small table in her galley kitchen with her best silverware and linen napkins. She flitted about the cramped space, fluffing scrambled eggs in the pan and warming up homemade banana bread she’d saved in her freezer leftover from Easter. Her mother always had the yummy treat available for family gatherings, mainly when Katie’s brother, Hartford was in town. She imagined Hart would approve of her latest situation with Clay Watkins. Hart was four years older and wouldn’t have known Clay from their high school. But he was still the protective big brother she had grown up with, always asking about her latest dating adventures, teasing her that if he were in town, he’d spy to make sure the guys she was with were Southern gentlemen. He certainly wouldn’t have to worry about Clay. Gentleman was his middle name! She licked her lips, staring off into space, and thinking about him when she realized her eggs were starting to cook too long.

“Oh, geez!” she said out loud, pulling the skillet off the burner with a clatter.

“You okay?” Clay asked, coming around the corner of the kitchen. He looked fresh and handsome as ever in a tan tee and blue jeans, the scruff on his face achingly gorgeous.

“Yeah… almost burned our eggs,” she lamented, swinging her damp ponytail around to pay attention to her cooking. She had jumped in and out of the shower in record time, purposefully wearing her worn denim shorts that were slightly frayed at the edges and a bright yellow tank top with her best Victoria’s Secret lacy bra underneath. Yeah, she wasn’t trying too hard.

“Mmm, smells good,” he said, leaning his butt against the kitchen counter and watching her. She had to purse her lips to keep from smiling as she stole glances at him while she finished salting the eggs. What was it about him that drew her in like a moth to a flame?

“Can I help you with anything?”

“Nah. Make yourself a cup of coffee and have a seat. The cream and sugar are on the table, mugs are on the stand.” She motioned to the corner where her coffee pot was.

An hour later, the remnants of their breakfast lay before them on the table as they sat back and finished off their coffee. They had talked nonstop about Clay’s travels all over the world, Katie wanting details of his adventures, imagining what it would be like to have that kind of freedom—and money. He was captivating to watch and fully engaged as he told stories about Paris and Italy, Africa and Australia.

“My God, Clay! Where haven’t you been?” she asked, wonder tinging her voice.

He laughed and palmed the coffee mug in between his hands. “I’ve been fortunate in my life, that’s for sure. I have the music artists to thank for most of those trips. Nine times out of ten I was invited to visit a touring show to see how a new song was faring on the road.”

“Yeah, roads in Paris and Rome!” she interjected.

“I know. It’s crazy,” he replied, shyly averting her gaze.

“You ever meet anyone while you were traveling? Anyone special?” Why those words came out of her mouth in that moment, she didn’t know. It was too late to retract them.

Clay’s dark eyes stared back at her from across the table and he shrugged. “I usually blend into the crowd. There’ve been a few times folks have tried to set me up with an acquaintance in their entourage, but nothing ever serious. I’ve made a lot of friends, but no relationships with anyone special.”

“Hmmm,” she replied staring back at him with narrowed eyes, her chin propped in her hand leaning on the table. “For some reason, I find that hard to believe.”

His eyebrows raised, and a mischievous glint appeared in his eye. “Well, you can believe what you want. I’ve never wanted a long-distance relationship. That kind never work out. And being on the road traveling to other countries isn’t a normal place to start relationship either. I prefer the good ole USA.”

Katie’s heart sank. If she and Clay were to continue to try to see each other, theirs would be a long-distance relationship. Nashville was four lengthy hours from Atlanta.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, bringing her out of her deep thought. “You’re pouting.”

“No, I’m not.”

He laughed. “Yes, you are. Your bottom lip was jutting out while you were thinking about something. You were pouting.” Licking his lips, he stood and pushed his chair back. With wide eyes, she watched him walk around the table until he was standing directly in front of her. Using his index finger, he tilted her chin up gently. “Was it something I said?”

His eyebrows were knitted with concern as he slowly slid the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. He seemed fascinated with her mouth which sent a jolt of electricity straight to her jean shorts. She stood and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. His hands slid down and rested on her backside.

“Did you get enough to eat?” she whispered into his ear, trying to change the subject. She wasn’t about to tell him the truth, that she was sad things weren’t going to work out for them because of distance.

“Not quite,” he replied softly. He pulled back from their embrace and palmed both sides of her face looking at her with a penetrating stare before he leaned down and kissed her. His tongue slowly eased into her mouth and his teeth grazed her lips. She couldn’t help but moan, opening her mouth wider aware that her hands had mysteriously slid down his sides and were gripping his buttocks as if her life depended on it. The length of his hardness rubbed against the top of her thigh and she purposefully brushed herself against him, the friction naturally turning him on. She suddenly pulled back and quickly eased her yellow tank top up and over her head, flinging it to the kitchen counter. Standing before him with her chest rising and falling, she waited for his reaction. His wide eyes raked over her body from head to toe, his face flushed and an apparent growing bulge in his jeans. He offered a slight smile before he crossed his arms in front of himself and pulled off his tee revealing his toned abs and glorious chest that had a smattering of hair across his skin. They stood in the small kitchen staring at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Katie was about to steal second base.

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered taking a step closer and slipping his index finger under her lacy, white bra strap. One touch sent a shockwave to her core and with one tug, the strap fell down her arm. He did the same with the other strap, which made her nipples pebble underneath the satin. She was dying for his hands to be on her breasts and hastily reached around her back, unclasping the bra and letting it fall to the ground. Clay inhaled sharply before reaching out to touch her. The subtle brush of his fingertips on her delicate skin almost sent her into a full-blown orgasm. She rolled her head back and closed her eyes as both of his hands tenderly fondled her, his thumbs making circles around her nipples. She could feel his mouth suckle her as she brought her hands up into his wavy hair pulling him in tighter.

“God, that feels so good,” she said breathlessly, lost in the ecstasy of his hands and mouth all over her chest. He knelt, peppering her belly with tiny kisses and slowly undid the button of her jean shorts. Katie was panting with want and shivered as his fingers slid over her underwear. He looked up at her, the caramel of his eyes obscured by his black irises. There were no words that needed to be said out loud. They were conversing with their amplified senses. Looking down at him, she nodded, the air coming out of her mouth in tiny pants, anticipating something beautiful about to happen. He started to slide her shorts down her legs when the sound of a key was heard in the locked door. They both bolted upright, Clay standing before her nakedness in protective mode.

“You expecting anyone?” he asked quietly.

“No.” She reached for her clothes minus her bra and clumsily dressed. “Stay here.”

She ran around the corner just in time to see the front door open wide and her best friend Stacey burst in, her face animated with excitement.

“Holy shit, girl! What a night!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter six

 

 

Stacey flew into the townhome like a tornado, her long blonde hair fluttering behind her in thick waves. Katie closed the door and followed her into the living room where she watched her bestie collapse dramatically on the sofa. Passing the kitchen entrance, she eyed the interior nervously, not sure how she should let her friend know she had just interrupted a very intense moment. To hide her erect, tingling nipples from under her thin tank, she crossed her arms over her chest and waited to hear the latest news. Stacey was always welcome day or night. She even had her own key. But right now was probably her worst timing in all the years they had known each other. Katie shifted uncomfortably aware that her panties were damp, not able to bring herself to tell Stacey she was intruding.

“Brent is wonderful!” she gushed stretching her body out. “He’s showering back at the hotel. I didn’t want to drive all the way home to change, so I came over here to borrow some clothes. We’re going to hike Stone Mountain and then he’s spending the night at my place before he goes back home for the week. God! Last night was awesome!” She flipped over onto her stomach and looked at Katie with anticipation. “How was your night with Cowboy?” she asked wiggling her eyebrows comically.

Katie sat on the edge of the sofa and chewed on her bottom lip. Clay was within earshot and she wasn’t about to explain how wonderful her night had been—that her body was still burning from the touch of his hands on her naked skin just moments before. If Stacey knew that he was mere feet from them, standing in the kitchen, able to hear everything they said, she’d go nuts with excitement. It had been a long time since Katie had been involved with a man, most of her time spent working and climbing the corporate ladder. It was a rare occasion for her to spend any time with the opposite sex outside of work, much less with someone she was genuinely attracted to.

Stacey quickly homed in on her hesitation. “What?” she asked, quickly sitting up. “Did you and Cowboy…?” Katie shook her head. “Did you hit it off with each other?” Katie nodded, suppressing a smile. “I knew it!” She jumped up and threw her arms around her. “I’m so glad! Are you gonna see each other again?”

“I sure hope so.” A baritone voice surprised them both, their blonde and brunette heads whipping around in unison. Clay stood in the doorframe of the kitchen entrance with his hands tucked into his jean pockets accentuating his arm muscles. His shirt was back on and his face was flushed, his smile making Katie faint.

“Oh. My. God.” Stacey said, totally dumbstruck. She ran over to Clay and threw her arms around his neck. “This is fantastic!” she yelled out loud. He chuckled, receiving her energetic hug with stiffness.

Katie blushed and went to his side. She couldn’t help but lean into his sturdiness and was rewarded when she felt his hand slide into the back pocket of her shorts and squeeze.

“Okay, I’ll be out your hair in a jiffy. Let me go grab some clothes. I swear! Just give me two minutes!” She ran out of the room singing all the way, “This is fucking awesome!!!”

“I guess she’s happy?” Katie said looking up into Clay’s face.

“Seems to be,” he replied matter-of-factly, making her laugh.

A few minutes later, the two girlfriends stood outside on the front stoop of the condo and hugged.

“Call me later. I want details!” Stacey insisted.

“I want details too,” Katie laughed, watching her walk down the steps to the parking lot.

“Have fun!” she waved. “Oh and, by the way—you look really natural with no bra on in that thin tank! It’s a good look for you!”

Katie’s eyes grew big and her arms immediately sheltered her chest.

“Enjoy every moment!” Stacey yelled before shutting herself in her car and driving off.

Katie remained on the top step and watched the taillights disappear around the corner. Looking down at her chest she realized Stacey was right—her yellow tank did nothing to hide the outline of her nipples. She shook her head and couldn’t help but blush.

*

“Sorry about that,” Katie apologized coming back inside bringing a swirl of hot, humid air with her. Clay was waiting for her, standing in the small hallway.

“Does anyone else have a key to your house that might be coming by today?” he asked humorously.

“No,” she answered, standing before him, looking sweet and innocent in her bare feet and bra-less tank.

“Lock the door,” he said huskily, his sudden confidence and boldness surprising himself.

He watched her cheeks flush with a subtle pink and she nodded before she turned and double bolted the front door. Before she could turn back around, he moved up against her back, reaching around and cupping her breasts. “Where were we?” he whispered into her ear with hot breath.

Katie moaned and leaned her head back on his shoulder, running her hands down his thighs. He tugged at her top, pulling it up and over her head. She turned around and nuzzled his neck, tugging at his own shirt. When they were finally skin on skin, their lips crashed together in a frenzied kiss, her fingers twisting in his hair. His body ached, he wanted her so badly. He felt her tug at his zipper, bringing it down and exposing his hardness beneath his commando composition. Feeling her hands grip his thickness was pure ecstasy, causing him to hold his breath and close his eyes.

“I want you, Clay,” he heard her say in staccato breaths. “I want you now,” she begged.

He navigated her body to the steps leading up to the bedrooms and set her down. With one pull, her shorts and panties glided effortlessly down her legs and he flung them against the locked door. She leaned back on the steps, her creamy curves standing out against the dark carpet. Stepping out of his blue jeans, he knelt in front of her, pushing her thighs to the side and burying his head in the apex of her legs. His tongue skated over her moist clit as she writhed and panted beneath him, her sweet aroma intoxicating. He lapped her up like a parched animal, not able to quench his thirst before feeling her entire body stiffen, then convulse into a full-blown orgasm, his name echoing in his ears. Straddling her, he pushed her hair that had come out of her ponytail back against her sweaty brow. Her eyes were huge, searching his as she came down from her explosion.

“Are you okay?” he asked, peppering her face with soft kisses. The aroma of her sweet pussy lingered on his lips as he spoke.

She nodded, blushing again. “Let’s go upstairs.” She hoisted her naked body up and grabbed his hand, leading him to her bedroom.

The summer sun streamed into the warm room, highlighting the king-sized bed that was perfectly made. Katie grabbed the top edge of the crimson duvet and yanked it, causing several throw pillows to tumble to the floor. She quickly pulled the shades down and turned on a bedside lamp. When she was finished, she turned to him and he watched her gaze travel from his feet to his face and smile. Her naked body was a sight to behold, and his erection pointed straight at her.

“Let your hair down,” he suggested, his voice gravelly with desire. He watched her reach up to the decimated ponytail and pull the band free, her long dark hair tumbling over her shoulders down to the tips of her nipples.

“Goddamn,” he whispered, aware that his penis was in a full, throbbing salute. She approached him and knelt slowly in front of him like a goddess, looking up at him with her big eyes before wrapping her lips around his hardness. “Oh, God yes…,” he moaned. He gripped her head with his fingers and leaned back in a stupor as her wet tongue and lips slid up and down his shaft. His hips moved slowly with each gentle pull, the quickening in his groin inevitable.

“K…Katie. You need to stop, baby or I’m gonna come undone in your mouth.”

“Mmmm…,” she hummed, the vibration of her voice making him wince in delicious pain.

“No, really…oh, fuck. Katie, please.” He pushed back from her trying to catch his breath abruptly bringing her to a standing position. His eyes shut tightly as he tried to fend off the discomfort of his throbbing appendage that was close to erupting.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He opened his eyes and exhaled slowly offering her a slight smile. “There is no reason to be sorry.” He pulled her in for a hug, kissing her temple. “That was so intense… I want the first time to be inside you.” He could feel her nod against his shoulder. “Lay down on the bed. I need to get something from my suitcase.”

They pulled back from each other, and he watched her gingerly lay on the bed against a bank of pillows before he sprinted across the hall to the guest room. Quickly, he rummaged through the top pocket of his suitcase and pulled out a couple of condoms. He wasn’t that guy who had a girl in every port, but he did think ahead and wanted to be prepared in case he ever had an opportunity with a girl he really liked. It had been a while since he had sex and his drought was about to end.

Pausing in the doorway to her bedroom, he drank in the image of Katie Parker sprawled across the giant bed as she waited for him. He slowly crossed the distance that lay between them and straddled her, his chest rising and falling with want. She didn’t say a word, watching his every move, her nipples erect and her skin glistening with beads of sweat. Her dark hair fanned out dramatically across the pillow, her beauty captivating. Reaching his hand between her legs, his fingers found her soaking wet clit.

“Please, Clay,” she mewed hoarsely. “I want you inside me.”

Bringing his fingers up to his mouth, he sucked them dry and nodded. She sat up and grabbed one of the condoms he had tossed on the mattress and ripped the foil packet off, then eased the rubber over his engorged penis. He helped her, his breath intensifying, knowing that they were so close.

“Do you want me?” he teased as sweat trickled down his cheeks.

Her hot breath was staggered, and she nodded vigorously.

“Lay back and tell me if it’s too much.”

Katie submitted to his request and offered herself to him. She was thoroughly wet and ready.

Clay slowly eased himself into her tightness, the pleasure immediate. When he was entirely inside, he leaned his elbows on either side of her face, gazing into her gorgeous doe eyes that stared back at him. He gradually started to move his hips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. Her lips turned up into a small smile before she tightly shut her eyes, a look of pure pleasure crossing her face. He could feel her fingers digging into the small of his back and then slide down to his bare buttocks as he moved faster. Sweat poured down his face and chest as he panted, pushing himself harder and harder. Katie swung her legs up and over his shoulders making him shift and slide deeper inside her, his orgasm on the cusp of exploding. They climbed higher and higher together until they jumped off the cliff at the same time, convulsing and shattering with intense pleasure.

Clay collapsed on top of Katie trying desperately to catch his breath. He could feel her gasping beneath him. It took effort to lift himself up and pull out. They lay side by side holding hands, their inhaling and exhaling finally slowing down.

“Holy shit, Clay,” she mumbled, squeezing his hand.

He turned to her, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “What?”

They were nose to nose.

“That was insane…”

His brow furrowed. “Insane good? Or insane bad?”

Her eyes were nothing but large, black pupils that stared back at him. She gingerly lifted her sweaty, glistening body up and straddled him, palming his chest with splayed hands.

“Insane good,” she whispered wantonly.

He watched her delicately roll the shiny condom off his flaccid penis and wrap it in a tissue she pulled out of a box conveniently located on the nightstand. Her soft mound tickled his lower abs as she stretched across the bed.

“You wanna do that again?” she teased picking up another condom and playfully waving it in front of him as she continued to straddle him. The instant she asked him, the very thought of being inside her for a second time sent a surge of arousal immediately to his manliness.

“Oh, hell yeah!” He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her forward, smashing his lips against hers. Her long hair covered his face, obscuring the light of the room as their tongues frolicked, licking and sucking with want.

Making love to Katie was everything he had ever dreamed of. Being close to her was everything he had ever wanted.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter seven

 

 

Every muscle and joint in Katie’s body ached as her head bobbled for a split second. She was about to fall asleep in the front seat of Clay’s truck, the droning engine lulling her into a relaxed state of consciousness as they drove on the interstate. It was late afternoon, and she was accompanying him to see his mother at her retirement home on the south-side of Atlanta.

Yawning, she stretched and looked over at Clay. His eyes caught hers and he smiled. She couldn’t help but smile back, admiring his freshly shaved face and messy hair. This was a handsome man who didn’t have to try very hard, his natural good looks a definite distraction to her current state of contentedness.

“Did I wear you out?” he asked, his eyes displaying a hint of playfulness.

“Yes…,” she mumbled, rolling her stiff neck around, trying to wake up.

They had stayed in bed until early afternoon fucking like horny teenagers. She couldn’t get enough of him, her appetite for sex insatiable after going so long without. That and the fact that Clay Watkins was an incredible lover. They could have stayed in bed all day if he hadn’t already made plans to see his mother. Lying nose to nose on the sweat-dampened sheets, he asked if she’d like to join him, admitting he wasn’t ready to say goodbye. She enthusiastically accepted his invitation and proceeded to straddle him with her butt in his face rewarding him with the best blow-job she’d ever given. When they had run out of time and had to get ready, she quickly got in the shower to rinse off the aftermath of their afternoon delight, startled when he joined her under the spray of water. He efficiently washed every nook and cranny of her body, pausing to pay close attention to her most vulnerable areas. When he bent her over one last time, thrusting his hardness into her tenderness under the shower spray, she didn’t think she could explode again—but she did. She had never been so sore in her life.

“I’m sorry. I feel a little stiff too.”

“Stiff?” she joked, stifling a giggle.

“Easy girl…” he laughed, squeezing her thigh.

Laying her head back on the seat, she sighed happily. “Tell me about your mom, Clay.”

“Okay.”

Katie learned a lot about his family during the thirty-minute ride around the perimeter of the city. His mama and daddy were quiet country folk who had been married for thirty-five years. Mr. Watkins, affectionately known as “Big Daddy,” was a truck driver and spent many days on the road away from his family while Clay was growing up. He became the man of the house while his daddy traveled, helping his mama with household chores and making sure the doors were locked tight at night. Birdie Watkins was a sweet and gentle stay-at-home mom who loved her little family more than anything in the world. He talked about her incredible talent for baking and all the contests she had won over the years, entering her famous peach cobbler in local fairs. She loved flowers, especially the lace-capped hydrangeas that dotted the landscape of the homes they had lived in, and her vegetable garden. It was always a remarkable sight, the colorful summer harvest ending up in mason jars lining the shelves of the Watkins pantry or in big, bountiful gift baskets she would give to the neighbors.

The Watkins family had never owned a home of their own, always renting for several years at a time before they had to move on to the next one. Big Daddy’s trucker’s salary allowed them to live a comfortable life, but there was never enough money left-over to put a down-payment on a house, which was something they had always dreamed of. Clay made sure that dream became a reality when he made it big in his career, buying his folks a home on Lake Oconee, complete with a fishing dock and a panoramic view of the water. His parents enjoyed it for a few years together before Big Daddy’s unexpected death. When the dust settled, Birdie Watkins just couldn’t bear living in the vast, empty house alone without her precious husband. Clay contemplated having her move in with him, but she refused, not wanting to be a burden during a time when his career was skyrocketing. Out of the blue, she showed him several colorful pamphlets of retirement homes that looked like a good option; places where she would never be alone, make friends and stay active in her retirement years. Clay was diligent in his research to find a reputable, upscale facility in Atlanta where his mother would be comfortable and happy.

“She sounds like a very selfless and caring woman. I can’t wait to meet her,” Katie said smiling warmly at him.

He looked back at her and grinned.

The front of the Sunset Ridge retirement community looked like something out of Gone with the Wind. A large front porch wrapped its way around the entire building behind tall, white columns. A beautiful fountain was the focal point of the circular drive, enhanced by vibrant, summer flowers in full bloom. The manicured plush, green lawn looked more like a luxurious carpet than a living plant. The entire estate reminded her of a posh country club, not a facility for the elderly.

Clay parked his truck in a visitor spot and quickly got out, running around the side to open the passenger door.

“Thank you.” Katie gripped his hand and climbed out of the cab onto the asphalt. He continued to hold her hand as they walked the short distance to the front entrance, swinging it romantically back and forth much to her chagrin. Humongous ferns hung from long chains across the porch area and several black, lacquered rocking chairs spread across the wooden boards of the porch, adding another element of southern charm. A large sign displayed above the front doors said, “It’s always a sunny day at Sunset Ridge” making Katie smile. Clay approached the receptionist window in the interior entryway and signed their names on a clipboard. The woman on duty nodded politely and handed him two visitor stickers.

Peeling the back off one of them, Clay gently pressed the sticker onto Katie’s shirt above her right breast. She inhaled quickly, their eyes meeting momentarily. He offered her a slight smile and raised eyebrow, not saying a word, and grabbed her hand again, leading her down the hallway. Her sandals slapped against the travertine tile as they walked hand in hand. She was surprised that the place didn’t smell antiseptic or remind her of a hospital. It was quite lovely, decorated in shades of teal and light brown with a pale green accent color. Beautiful artwork was expertly positioned on the walls, and she swore she could smell the distinct traces of fresh gardenias.

“This place is nice,” she whispered, leaning into him.

He squeezed her hand. “Mama loves it. She’s made a lot of new friends and even volunteers in the kitchen so she can continue to bake.”

They rounded a corner and walked through a double doorway that led into a great room with floor to ceiling windows on the back wall. Rows and rows of tables were set up in the space, with elderly men and women sitting or standing while talking animatedly. Big band music played softly from small speakers mounted in the ceiling and refreshment tables were set up along the wall with brew stations and multi-tier silver trays of home-baked goodies. Clay must have noticed the surprised look on her face as she looked around.

“Afternoon bingo is a popular pastime here on Sunday afternoons. Mama usually sits at the end of a table near the windows with her posse.”

“Her posse?” she giggled.

He continued to guide her, pulling her by the hand through the people and furniture until they reached the back wall of windows, the view of the gardens this side of the property breathtaking. This was not your average retirement home.

They approached a group of ladies, one of them immediately recognizing Clay and offering her outstretched arms to embrace him. He let go of Katie’s hand.

“There’s my boy!” Her high-pitched voice was full of joy.

“Hey, Mama,” Clay replied bashfully as he allowed his mother to grasp his cheeks tightly between her hands and pull his head down for a kiss. Mrs. Watkins was much shorter than her son and had to crane her neck to look up at him. She was a pretty, silver-haired woman dressed in comfortable Capri pants and a loose-fitting blouse. Katie noticed that she still wore her wedding band.

“Your hair’s getting a little wild again,” she teased, making her son blush as she ran her fingers over his sideburns affectionately. If she could have seen how wild it looked earlier when he was in Katie’s bed, she’d probably be the one blushing.

“Oh, Mama. It’s fine. I want you to meet someone.” He turned and reached for Katie pulling her into their circle. “Mama, this is Katie. Katie Parker from Lakeside High School.”

A look of surprise crossed Mrs. Watkin’s face as their eyes met.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs. Watkins. Looks like y’all are about to have some fun playing bingo.” She didn’t know why, but she suddenly felt like she was back in high school, anxious for Clay’s mom to approve of her.

Mrs. Watkins tilted her head, her eyes expressing warmth and love. “It’s so nice to meet you, honey. And please, call me Birdie.” Her southern accent was warm and comforting.

“Okay. Thanks, Birdie.”

Clay palmed her back while guiding the women to chairs. He had to stop several times and shake hands with some of the men and accept kisses on the cheek from the women he obviously knew. Everyone they met was kind and seemed happy to have a couple of young “kids” in the crowd. They settled at the end of a table, Katie sitting next to his mother and Clay sitting across from them. Several cards with different numbered squares were already laid out along with foam-tip dauber markers. For the next two hours, the room was a buzz of excitement as the middle-aged caller with a distinct radio voice randomly called out bingo numbers generated by a machine. A huge, electronic bingo board was set up at the end of the room that lit up, showing each number as it was called, just in case someone wasn’t paying attention.

The mood in the room was electric and Katie couldn’t believe how much fun she was having playing “four corners” and “blackout” with the older generation. She chatted with Birdie who told her all about her new, happy life in the facility, and Clay was a doting host, retrieving plates of cookies and refills of coffee for everyone on their end of the table as they played. She loved watching him every time he got up, her eyes fixated on his toned butt that outlined his blue jeans. He caught her eye several times and shook his head, smiling at her as if he knew what she was thinking, and brushed his boot along her bare leg under the table, making her flush. When it was time for the last game that included the biggest jackpot of the session, Katie hunkered down, willing herself to win, marking off every number that was called out.

“G-51,” the caller yelled out.

“BINGO!”

Katie turned to look at Clay’s mom with her mouth wide open and watched her hold up the winning card, waving it frantically in the air. Clay immediately got up and looped his arm with hers, the two of them prancing across the room to where the bingo committee would authenticate her as the winner. The whole place was suddenly a buzz of activity.

“He’s a good boy,” Blanche Reed said matter-of-factly. She was sitting across the table to the right and had been a part of their conversations while they played all afternoon. “Is it serious?” she asked nosily with a twinkle in her blue eyes.

“With Clay?” The woman’s question took her aback, not sure how to answer. “Nah…we knew each other in high school. He’s a nice guy.”

“Hmmm…” Blanche sat back in her chair, eyeing her. “You know, he’s never brought a friend here when he visits. Must be serious. I’m sure Birdie is thrilled. She’s always going on and on about how worried she is that he hasn’t found someone yet—that he’s just too shy and had those problems when he was a boy.” She took a sip of coffee from a Styrofoam cup before continuing with her thick, southern drawl. “You’d think him hobnobbing with all those music city folks would have landed him a wife by now, but he always comes alone and doesn’t say much about anything.”

Katie furrowed her brow, feeling heat on her cheeks. She didn’t like it that Blanche was talking about Clay behind his back. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about Mrs. Reed. Clay is a great guy, and he actually has a lot to say.”

Their conversation was interrupted as Clay helped his mother back into her chair. She was ecstatic that she had just won five dollars in the final round.

“Can you believe it?” Birdie was beaming, her face glowing with excitement. “Five whole dollars!”

“Congratulations, Birdie Watkins!” Blanche offered with an over-zealous smile.

After saying goodbye to everyone at their bingo table, they toured Birdie’s comfortable room and got her settled. When they were finally back in the truck alone, Katie sighed happily and turned to him.

“That was really fun.”

“Sorry she was so insistent that we stay for dinner. She’s not normally that clingy.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. She’s your mother and I’m sure she misses you like crazy and just wants to spend more time with you.” She clicked her seatbelt at her hip. “We can stay if you want to. I don’t have to be anywhere.”

Clay shook his head and looked down at his hands that were planted on his thighs. A small smile tugged on his lips. “I know it’s selfish of me, but I really just wanted to hang out with you for a little longer before I head back to Nashville.” He shifted in his seat before looking at her with wide eyes. “I’m not ready to say goodbye to you, Katie Parker.”

She inhaled quickly and inadvertently reached her hand up to caress a small curl above his ear. She had wanted to touch him all afternoon, but held back in an effort to be respectful in front of his mother. He leaned into her touch. “I’m not ready to say goodbye to you either, Clay Watkins.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter eight

 

 

Katie stood in front of the large office window, cupping her coffee mug in her hands. The blinds were open wide as she watched the sun rising on the east side of the property, the luminous, orange glow reminding her to be in the moment. She closed her eyes, the warmth penetrating the glass and highlighting her face. Her body tingled as she slowly inhaled, grateful for the past weekend with Clay. Mini-snapshots of them together flashed through her mind as she thought about him—bumping into him in the hallway at the reunion, kissing his full lips in the moonlight, feeling his skin against hers for the first time. If she had it her way, they’d still be naked in bed in a tangle of sweaty arms and legs, touching and thrusting.

“What are you doing, Kathryn?”

Startled, Katie quickly turned and had to squint in the bright morning light to make out her co-worker, Dale Dubsky who stood in the doorframe with his hands on his hips. Ever since the two of them sat next to each other at a local conference sponsored by their firm, he preferred calling her by her full name which he read off her name tag for the event. She didn’t mind. They became good friends over the years and were thick as thieves in the sometimes suffocating, micromanaged world of corporate America. He was a proud, successful gay man who made her laugh almost as much as her BFF, Stacey. Dale was instrumental in helping her find her sense of style when they were both newbies in the insurance biz. They would often shop together during their lunch hour in the midtown area stores and find beautiful pieces of clothing that she could mix and match. He was a fashionista himself and always dressed impeccably for work, standing out in the crowd from all the other poor businessmen chumps who didn’t have a clue. The distinct aroma of his Dolce and Gabbana cologne wafted into the small office, making her smile. Leave it to Dale to look and smell this good on a Monday morning.

“You trying to get a tan with those blinds open?” He approached her, the frown line between his perfect brows evident as if trying to figure out what she was up to.

Katie giggled. “No. I, uh… I was enjoying the sunrise for a change.” She nonchalantly flipped her hair over her shoulder.

“Enjoying the sunrise for a change…. Hhmm.” He eyed her contemplatively before sitting in the spare chair across from her desk and crossing his leg at the knee. Katie noticed right away that he wore no socks with his designer loafers.

“What’s his name?” His voice was low and insinuating. She was busted.

Sighing, she set her coffee cup down before lowering the blinds and clamping them shut. She was going to stretch out the suspense as long as she could and took her time to sit in her office chair resting both elbows on the cherry wood desk. His eyes followed her every move, and he watched her as she held her chin in her hands, offering a naughty smile. He arched one eyebrow as if waiting with bated breath.

“His name is Clay Watkins…”

“I knew it!” he exclaimed, slapping his thigh and jumping up in the air.

“And how did you know, Dale?”

He approached the desk wagging his finger at her. The blue in his eyes sparkled. “You never wear your hair down, and you never watch the sunrise. In fact, this is the first time I have ever seen those blinds open! By this time every single morning, you’re halfway through your emails sipping your third cup of coffee with a pencil stuck in your bun!”

Katie leaned back in her chair giggling. It tickled her to see Dale get so worked up and animated, which brought out his flamboyance.

He sat back down in the chair while straightening his tie. “You may continue…” he said with a regal air, tilting his nose up like an aristocrat, crossing his leg again.

Not knowing where to begin, she shook her head while absent-mindedly twirling a pen with her fingers. “We ran into each other at the reunion Saturday night. He asked if he could buy me a drink and we ended up sitting in the back of his pickup overlooking the Chattahoochee River till sunrise.” Blushing, she looked away. “I cooked him breakfast at my place and then we…we…”

“We what?” Dale’s eyes were wide with anticipation.

“We went and played bingo at his mother’s retirement home.” The look on his puzzled face made her laugh out loud. “After we have wild sex for hours!”

Dale shrieked covering his mouth with both hands. “You harlot!” He grinned, leaning forward.

“You can say that again!” They both erupted in laughter.

When they finally calmed down, Dale dabbed the corners of his eyes. “Was it good?”

Katie deeply inhaled as if smelling the most beautiful flower on earth. “It was incredible.”

“Mmmmm,” he replied dreamily. There was a long pause before he sat up in the chair. “So, what does he do? What does he look like? Better yet, who would play him in a movie?”

“Ha! Of course, he’s gorgeous. Who would play him in a movie? Hmmm…” She chewed on her bottom lip in thought. “Eric Dane.”

“Oooh,” Dale sighed. “McSteamy.”

She nodded in agreement. “And you’re never going to believe this, Dale. He’s a pretty famous Nashville songwriter. Ever heard of ‘Georgia Clay’? That’s what they call him in the music business.”

“A real-life cowboy! I don’t listen to country music, so I’m afraid I’ve never heard of him.”

Katie grabbed her mouse and quickly accessed a file on her computer. She had Googled Clay earlier in the morning, surprised to see how famous he was. “I’m sure you’ve heard of this song.”

She turned up the volume on her computer monitor, and the melody of a familiar ballad seeped into the air, sung beautifully by a famous female pop artist. The song was aptly entitled, “Forever in Love” and had debuted initially as a country song. It had recently been picked up and featured on the soundtrack of a blockbuster movie. The song had crossed over into the pop world and had won Clay his first Grammy.

“Oh. My. God. Did Clay write that? I know this song!”

“Yes. He was even nominated for an Oscar because of the song featured in that movie…what was it called?”

“The Watchman,” he sighed languorously. “I loved that movie. Brad Pitt was a God in that movie…” They were silent allowing the beautiful song to play out. “Did he win the Oscar for Song of the Year?”

“Unfortunately, no. But he did win a Grammy. When the song first debuted on the country charts, he won a CMA and a Billboard Music Award too.” She started to read from the screen, excitement obvious in her voice. “He’s a two-time ASCAP Country Songwriter of the Year winner and picked up three CMA Triple-Play trophies for having three number one songs within a year. And he was recently inducted into the Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame.”

“Damn, girl! You’ve been doing your homework.” He crossed his arms in his taupe-colored suit.

“He’s currently a staff writer for Warner Music in Nashville.”

“Wow. You know with a hit song like “Forever in Love”, he could probably call it quits and live off millions for the rest of his life. Royalties, baby. When Whitney Houston recorded Dolly Parton’s song, “I Will Always Love You”, for the movie, The Bodyguard, it went straight to number one, the royalties from that one song alone setting her up for life!”

Katie rubbed the back of her neck nodding in agreement. “He’s quite humble about it all. He doesn’t come across as incredibly wealthy. He wears old cowboy boots and drives a pickup truck.”

“A real-life, musical cowboy. And my beautiful Kathryn fucked him…”

“Dale!”

He stood and straightened the lapels on his jacket. “For what it’s worth, you look ravishing this morning. It’s a good look for you.” He opened the door and turned around one last time, displaying a beautiful smile. “I have a conference call in five minutes, otherwise you’d be telling me way more about your new friend. Toodles, my lovely. We’ll talk more at lunch.”

“Toodles, D.” She watched him walk out of the office and gently shut the door behind him. Collapsing back into her chair, she sighed and hit the play button again. Knowing that Clay had penned the lyrics and melody to the beautiful ballad coming out of her computer speaker made her heart swell.

***

Clay tapped his foot and fidgeted while sitting in the large conference room of the Nashville offices of EMI Publishing. Because of the commercial success of his country crossover hit, “Forever in Love”, he was in high demand and had to hire a public relations team over the past year to help navigate the press who grappled for interviews. This was the part of the business he didn’t care for. The questions were always the same, relating to how he got started, what motivated him and the actual steps he took to write a song. He was doing a publishing buddy a favor today by attending an interview by one of the staff of Songwriting Universe Magazine. EMI was a hop, skip and a jump from Warner Music, and there was a Starbucks along the way, so he didn’t mind helping his friend out. He tapped the toe of his cowboy boot under the table as he sipped robust, black coffee and looked out the giant office window. He stared at the green leaves of a giant oak tree dappled with shimmering rays of the midday sun. His lower lip tugged upward into half a smile, the orbs of light in the upper boughs of the trees reminding him of the morning he and Katie woke up in the back of his truck together. If he hadn’t of agreed to this interview “favor” for his buddy, he’d still be back at her place, no doubt. He was smitten with Katie Parker and incredibly grateful that their paths managed to cross at the reunion. Deep down, he always knew that they’d cross paths again—she was someone he could never quite get out of his mind all these years. Maybe it was because she was his first crush and a muse for countless songs he had written in those early days in Nashville. It was easy to write about love when he thought of her—she had his heart a long, long time ago…

“Mr. Watkins?”

Clay looked up and noticed a voluptuous woman with the most astonishing purple hair. An intricate flower tattoo peeked out from under her short-sleeved shirt, and she had a small diamond nose piercing, which accentuated her rockabilly style. He met all kinds of artsy people in the business. It never ceased to amaze him how colorful some of them were.

“Hey. You can call me Clay.” He stood and stuck his hand out. Her pale fingers wrapped around his hand, shaking it firmly and she looked up at him with a genuine smile. Caught off guard by her ice-blue eyes that looked at him from behind thick glasses, he thought she was quite beautiful—colorful, but beautiful.

“Thanks, Clay. I’m Heather Spade from Songwriting Universe Magazine. Thanks for meeting with me on such short notice,” she said with confidence.

“No problem,” he muttered. He watched her spread various items out on the large conference table and waited to sit back down until she settled.

“So, our readers have been inundating us with requests to interview the Georgia Clay for some time now. You’re a real inspiration to so many up-and-coming songwriters. Congratulations on the Grammy.”

Clay blushed, not knowing how to reply, so he nodded quickly before taking a swig of coffee.

She flipped a notepad open to a page filled with writing and placed a mini-recording device between them. “I usually record the interview and go back later to write it all out. You okay with that?”

“Sure.”

Heather Spade clicked play on the recorder and dove right in. “Interview with Georgia Clay Watkins at EMI Publishing. This is Heather Spade.” She cleared her throat. “Georgia Clay, do you mind if I call you that?”

“No, that’s fine.”

“You’re among the top tier of Nashville songwriters and were recently inducted into the Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame. Our readers want to know what inspires you to write. Where do you get all the ideas for your awesome songs?

Clay shifted in his seat and leaned forward with his elbows on the table, palming his coffee cup. “Well, I don’t expect people to understand where the songs come from because I don’t understand it myself.”

Heather laughed. “Do you mostly write alone, or do you have songwriting partners?”

“It’s been mostly a solitary experience for me. I’ve dabbled with a couple of collaborations, but most of my songs come from my own heart.”

He watched her nod with understanding. “You’ve catapulted several careers in the country music business with some brilliant songwriting. How does it make you feel to hear one of your songs being sung by someone else?”

Clay scratched his chin mulling over his answer before speaking. “Well…it’s a beautiful compliment when someone wants to record something I’ve written. It’s funny though. Nine times out of ten we can hear the same thing but understand it very differently from one another.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, people are always trying to find some deep, hidden meaning in my songs—they’re just songs. I like a three-chord progression with a simple melody. My lyrics are simple too. I like lyrics that sound like a conversation. I think the best-written songs out there are the ones where the words find the melody; you know what I mean?”

Heather’s brow furrowed. “So, would you say that your lyrics are your strongest asset as a songwriter?”

Clay thought for a moment. “You could say that. I’m kind of like a ‘picture painter.’ It’s like if you listen to a high school football game on the radio. You can’t be there, and somebody’s got to paint a picture for you. It’s the same with a song. I try to paint the best picture and take that listener to where I want them to be.”

“That’s a cool way to explain it,” Heather offered, scribbling something in her notebook. “Now, I’ve seen you play in the round at the Bluebird a couple of times. It’s always fun to see the audience react when you start strumming a familiar tune they had no idea you wrote. Have you ever considered going on the road singing and playing your own songs? You’re quite talented—you can play, sing, and write. A triple-threat in this biz. And you got that country swag going on too, I might add.” She looked over the rim of her glasses flirtatiously.

Clay looked down at the table, shaking his head. There were numerous times over the years that Warner Music and other labels had tried to woo him into becoming a touring artist. He was adamant that he never wanted to be in the spotlight. “I have no desire to be on tour.”

Heather shook her head. “It’s a shame.” She flipped her notebook to another page. “You won the Grammy for Song of the Year last year with your crossover hit, “Forever in Love”. And you were nominated for an Oscar. What is the magic ingredient for a country song to crossover like that?”

Clay blew a puff of air out of his mouth and shook his head. “There was nothing commercial about that song when it first released on country radio. It wasn’t until it crossed over that it turned out to be the biggest hit I ever had. You just never know. If I knew the magic ingredient, I’d have more money than God.”

Heather laughed out loud swinging her purple hair over her shoulder. “You write a lot about love. Is there someone in your life that you draw inspiration from?”

Clay could feel heat start to rise from his neck. Heather knew nothing about the last forty-eight hours he had spent with Katie, the very thought of her naked body on top of him causing his lower region to tingle. “I…uh…I have a special lady in mind. Yes…” His cheeks were warm, and his tongue felt larger than his mouth. If they continued down this path, he knew he’d be a stuttering, mumbling idiot for sure. Drawing in a deep breath, he willed himself to concentrate speaking very slowly. “All artists draw from their own experiences. It’s nothing new.”

Heather was looking at him with wide eyes, her right brow perfectly arched as if she could see right into his heart. “Well, whoever she is, she’s one lucky muse.”

Clay offered a friendly nod and watched her reach for the recorder. “One last question for you Georgia Clay. What is the best advice you could give to someone who wants to make it in the songwriting business?”

Running his hands through his shaggy hair, Clay sighed. “We have to be honest and say what we set out to say. Just keep doing that.”

Heather nodded and smiled. “Honesty. It sounds so simple.”

“It really is.”

“Well, congratulations on your commercial success, Georgia Clay. All your fans wish you nothing but the best. And good luck with your lovely lady.”

“Thanks.” Clay shifted uncomfortably wishing the bulge in his pants would disappear. There was no way he could stand without Heather noticing. Darn that Katie Parker.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER NINE

 

 

Bored out of her mind on the third conference call of the day, Katie listened to one of her West Coast team members go on and on about the latest increase in insurance premiums. It was a precarious time in the industry, everyone noisily interjecting thoughts and concerns in the conversation. For the first time in her professional career, she wasn’t the loudest voice in the mix. She was laid back, her mind wandering the entire time to thoughts of Clay. She couldn’t help but imagine what he was doing, hopeful that he might reach out to her sometime soon. Leaning her head on her hand propped up on her desk, she closed her eyes and couldn’t help but fixate on their time together, going over every detail of their whirlwind weekend. Images of his muscular, toned body were branded into her brain, making her crave his warm skin next to hers. Sighing, she leaned back in her chair and shook her head. Clay had been pretty clear that he didn’t believe in long distance relationships. She begged to differ. After mulling it over, she decided that a four-hour commute was not a long-distance—it was a short distance. Yes, their relationship could be considered a short-distance relationship. She jotted down her quirky thought on a sticky note so she wouldn’t forget and noticed her muted cell phone lighting up.

“Clay,” she whispered excitedly. Reaching across the desk to her office phone, she quickly muted the conference call so she could answer her I-Phone without her co-workers knowing.

“This is Katie Parker.” She didn’t mean for her voice to come across as business-like as it did.

“Hey… Katie. It’s Clay. Clay Watkins.”

The wide grin on her face was almost clown-like. “Hey, Clay. I was just thinking about you.”

“Really? Well, that’s a nice thing to say…”

They talked on the phone for the next few minutes, Katie having to put him on hold a few times to interject an agreement or two on her conference call. When she finally ended the business call from the West Coast, she relaxed, kicking her heels off under the desk and let Clay know he had her undivided attention.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you during your workday.”

“No! It’s totally fine. I’m so glad you called me, Clay. When can I see you again?” There were a few seconds of silence as her bold question must have caught him off guard.

“You know, I’d really like that,” his voice rumbled, making her insides stir.

She smiled, licking her lips. “Well, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t think I’d like that too.”

His baritone laugh made her blush. She was a goner.

“Well…one of the reasons I was calling was to ask…if you wanted to join me on this thing I have going on Thursday night.”

He seemed hesitant and nervous trying to ask her to go to something with him. “Oh? What kind of ‘thing’?” she asked gently.

“It’s a songwriter’s showcase at the Bluebird Café in Nashville. I do it every other month. I don’t know if you can get away early on Thursday and take Friday off, but I’d love for you to be my guest and stay… through the weekend?”

Katie covered her mouth with her hand so she wouldn’t squeal out loud. Clay Watkins was inviting her to Nashville for the weekend. Of course, she could take Friday off. Being a bona fide workaholic, she hadn’t taken a random day off in years. The company owed her numerous vacation and personal days. The time had finally come for her to cash in. The thought of spending quality time with Clay on his home turf something she wasn’t about to miss.

“Katie? You there?”

She blinked several times coming down from her thoughts. “Yes! I’m here, and yes, I’ll be there!”

He sounded relieved, and they talked for another minute before saying goodbye. When she pressed the end call button on her cell, she immediately hit the speed dial on her office phone that went directly into Dale’s office.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“I’m heading to Nashville on Thursday!” she shrieked excitedly.

“Oh. My. God. The cowboy called, didn’t he?”

“Yes!”

Dale purposefully talked with a thick Southern accent making her laugh out loud. “Well, darlin’, aren’t you the luckiest little cowgirl this side of the Mississippi?”

“I’m going to a songwriter’s showcase at the Bluebird Café that he’s performing in.”

“Wow! That sounds cool…”

“Dale, would you wear cowboy boots if you were me or would that be weird?” Nervously, she tapped the end of a pencil on her desk already contemplating her weekend wardrobe.

“You wear whatever your little ole Kathryn Parker heart desires.”

***

The sunroof was wide open on Katie’s Beemer as she steadily climbed Interstate-24 toward Monteagle. The past two days had been excruciating, anticipating seeing Clay again. As she made the journey to Tennessee, it was fun watching the temperature drop on her dashboard thermometer as she gained altitude up the mountain. The protruding rocks and formations on either side of the highway were magnificent against the perfect summer sky. Scrolling through several radio stations, she landed on a contemporary country broadcast and wondered if some of the songs she was humming along to were Georgia Clay originals. She couldn’t wait to see him in action, playing the songs that made him a famous songwriter. Stacey insisted that she borrow her flaming-red cowboy boots for the occasion, coaching her in appropriate Nashville attire.

“You’ll fit right in if you wear the boots,” her best friend stressed. “All his Nash Vegas buddies will think you’re one of them if you’re sportin’ these!”

Katie smiled and shook her head. She really wasn’t the cowboy boot wearing type but packed them to appease Stacey, knowing deep down that she probably wouldn’t even take them out of her suitcase. She liked the fact that she could be herself around Clay, unhindered and honest. There was something about his music that projected honesty as well. She knew they’d get along just fine, with or without cowboy boots. Her ringing cell phone interrupted an Eric Church tune about Springsteen. Clicking a button on her steering wheel, the Bluetooth kicked in leaving her hands free on the dangerous highway.

“Hello? This is Katie.”

“Hey, Pretty Girl. It’s Clay. How are you holding up?”

She pushed her sunglasses up on top of her head to hold her hair back and blushed. The word “pretty” coming out of his sexy mouth made her pulse race. “I’m doing great. The traffic is minimal, and the day is gorgeous. I just wish there weren’t so many big rigs on the road. Kind of scary going up this mountain.”

“Well, stay back from them,” he urged, his voice filled with concern. “That stretch of Interstate is notorious for heavy-footed drivers that end up using the runaway truck ramps, especially on the decline.”

“I’ll be careful…” It touched her that he was checking up on her. “Maybe I should come up with my own trucker name?” She giggled.

“Now, that’s not a bad idea. My daddy was a trucker. Everyone called him ‘Big Daddy.’”

“Yes, you told me.”

“I could call you… ‘Hot Mama’?”

Her cheeks were growing warmer. “Okay, if I can call you ‘Firecracker.’”

His laugh was infectious as it came over her car speaker. “‘Firecracker’? Where’d you come up with that?”

Katie bit her lip gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “Well, every time we made love I saw fireworks…”

There was silence for a few seconds before she heard him sigh. “Damn, Hot Mama. You sure know how to make a guy blush.”

She imagined him on the other side of the line with his tousled hair and caramel eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually so forward. It’s just that…”

“It’s just…what?” His voice was low and sexy.

Words suddenly tumbled out of her mouth in a steady stream of consciousness. “It’s just that you’re an incredible lover, and I can’t wait to see you again, and you’re all I’ve been thinking about day and night, and I’m so glad we ran into each other at the reunion, and I don’t usually go all-the-way in the first twenty-four hours of meeting someone and… whoa!” Jerking the wheel quickly to the left, she barely avoided sideswiping a big rig that was barreling into her lane.

“Katie? Katie! What happened? Are you alright?”

Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest as she looked in the rearview mirror at the giant truck that almost caused an accident. “Yes. I’m okay. These truckers are dangerous,” she whispered out of breath.

“Keep your eyes on the road, Pretty Girl. You need to get off your phone so that you can concentrate.” She could hear him exhale on the other end. “And for the record, you’re all I’ve been thinking about too. I can’t wait to see you in a couple of hours,” he reassured.

She groaned, not wanting to say goodbye.

“I’ll see you at the Bluebird. Your name will be on the VIP list. Just be sure to tell them your name is, ‘Hot Mama,’” he teased.

She laughed, finally relaxing again. “Okay, ‘Firecracker.’”

“Mmmm. Why is it so damn hard to say goodbye to you?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I feel the same way.” They let the moment linger.

“Be safe Katie Parker. We’ll watch the fireworks together tonight.”

She was counting on it.