CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Damn, girl! Those boots are hot!” Clay was wide-eyed, standing next to the kitchen counter with a beer in his hand when she came out of the bedroom.
Katie shrugged, knowing she had secretly coveted his reaction. She had spent the better part of an hour getting dolled up for their night on the town. Her best friend’s red cowboy boots were definitely an enhancement to her conservative wardrobe. Throwing caution to the wind, she paired the boots with her frayed jean shorts and a romantic, white peasant blouse with the first three buttons unbuttoned. She was careful with the makeup, opting for a more natural look. However, she teased her hair a little bit more than usual for the ideal effect. Her hands were clasped in front of her as she watched Clay come toward her with hungry eyes.
“I’m not sure I should let you out in public looking so fine. You look like a Hee Haw Honey,” he purred, palming her arms.
She couldn’t help the gigantic grin that spread across her face, and she spoke with a corny, southern accent in reply, “Why, you’re the only man for me, Clay Watkins. You have nothin’ to worry about.” He laughed and pulled her in for a bear hug.
It was Friday night in the heart of Nash Vegas. Clay had asked her earlier what she wanted to do or see in the Music City. She insisted on more live music, and before she could think things through, she blurted out, “and line-dancing!” Clay had the perfect venue in mind that was right down the street from his home.
Layla’s Bluegrass Inn was an infamous honkytonk on Broadway where dancing and live music went hand in hand. Walking down the sidewalk among the throngs of people, she heard several catcalls, causing her to nervously cozy up to Clay and regret her choice of wardrobe.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, holding her tight. “I won’t let any of these rednecks near my girl.”
The colorful marquee of Layla’s jutted out from the old building and was lit up like a Christmas tree, reminding Katie of an old movie house. The interior had exposed beams with metal license plates tacked up from all over the United States. Multi-color lights had been strung throughout the space, and old-fashioned chrome stools with red-leather seats were lined up against the long bar. Clay held her hand and managed to find two open stools next to each other.
“What do you wanna drink tonight?” he asked. What was it about the way he looked at her with those caramel eyes that sent butterflies to her tummy?
“I’d like a gin and tonic—but only if they have Tanqueray. Lots of lime,” she said over the loud music.
He nodded and proceeded to flag down the bartender.
A rockabilly trio was on the wooden stage in the corner, one of the musicians playing an impressive upright bass. They looked the part of typical Nashville artists with their embellished country shirts and bandanas sticking out of their jean pockets. The three-part harmonies were impressive, and their energy seemed to rub off on the entire crowd. Several folks were already dancing in the open area in front of the stage.
Clay handed Katie her drink in a red plastic cup. “Sorry about the plastic,” he said over the steady beat of a song.
“I don’t mind,” she said crossing her bare legs. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” He tapped his cup with hers while running his index finger across the skin of her thigh, sending shivers up her spine. She smiled at him over the rim of her cup, intertwining her fingers with his.
“Does it taste okay?” he asked. She couldn’t help but relish the fact that he was indeed a southern gentleman.
“It’s perfect.”
They watched the trio play and the dancers come alive with the toe-tapping music. People kept filing into the building until it was standing room only.
“These guys are pretty popular. They have a great sound.”
Katie nodded enthusiastically. “Are they playing original music or are these cover songs?”
“A little of both. The bars around here want the bands to keep the interest of the patrons by playing familiar, danceable music. They have to play covers. But it’s also an opportunity to throw in some of their own music and gain a following.”
They continued to watch the trio entertain the crowd and Katie almost got the nerve to ask Clay to dance when an older couple settled in beside them when two stools became available. It was obvious they were tourists.
“Would you look at that?” the older woman said to her husband taking in the surroundings. She spoke with a distinct Midwestern accent.
Katie smiled at the woman who was decked out in an over-the-top rhinestone-encrusted blouse with shoulder-pads, making her look like she had just stepped out of a 1980’s time machine. Her teased, blonde hair rose to high heaven, and the rims of her glasses were hot pink. Her poor husband didn’t seem as interested in dressing the part, wearing a vintage Opryland souvenir t-shirt, jeans, and white Ked tennis-shoes.
“Bill, you go ahead and get your whiskey drink. I’d like a Singapore Sling with a couple of extra cherries.”
As her husband turned around, the woman eyed Katie and Clay over the rim of her glasses. “What an adorable couple. Bill?” She elbowed him sharply in the side. “Look at this adorable couple sitting next to us. Honey, are you a local or are you visiting from out of state?”
Katie squeezed Clay’s thigh to divert his attention from the music. Perplexed, he looked at her, and she winked at him, ready to play another game.
“Why, we’re both Nash-villians—born and bred in the Music City,” she replied in an over-the-top southern accent. Clay was taking a sip of his drink and almost choked. “Ain’t that right, Sugarbear?” She batted her eyelashes at him, suppressing a grin, hoping he would play along.
Clay cleared his throat before responding in a deep, rumbly voice. “That’s right darlin’.” Katie bit her tongue so she wouldn’t laugh out loud.
The woman shoved her bejeweled hand to shake theirs, her fingernails long and painted crimson. “We’re Susan and Bill Knight from Iowa. Good to meet ya!” Her husband was unimpressed, nodding at them before hunkering down to savor his drink. “This is our first time in Nashville. We’ve wanted to come forever! I just knew real Nashvillians would look like you and your… husband?” She raised an eyebrow waiting for a response.
“Yes, ma’am.” Katie looped her arm around Clay’s, pulling him close. “Me and Johnny, we’ve been married for ten whole years! We’re high school sweethearts!” Clay’s eyes sparkled with humor as he nodded in agreement.
“Ohhh! That’s adorable! Isn’t that adorable, Bill?” Her husband replied with a grunt and a nod of the head. “What’s your name sweetie?”
Katie was about to open her mouth to answer, but Clay beat her to the punch. “Her name is June, ma’am. We’re Johnny and June.”
Susan’s mouth dropped to the floor, and her eyes became wide as saucers. “Johnny and June? What are the chances of that? Just like Johnny and June Cash. Oh, my goodness! This is incredible!” She started to pillage her large pocketbook, looking for something.
Katie looked at Clay and shook her head slightly. He shrugged and kissed the side of her head.
“I’ve got to get a photo for my scrapbook club. They’ll never believe we met a real Johnny and June in Nashville. Do you mind?”
“Not at all ma’am!” Katie replied energetically. “Why don’t we take a selfie so you can be in the picture too?”
The woman gasped. “Really? That would be wonderful!”
The group of four crowded around Bill’s barstool getting close for the selfie. Clay stretched his arm out and took several pictures. Mr. Knight had his eyes closed, or he was drinking from his cup in every one of them.
“Thank you, Johnny! You’re so handsome! And June, I just love your red cowboy boots. You belong in a country-western movie!”
Clay tipped back his drink, finishing it off in two gulps. “If you’ll excuse us, I need to dance with my wife now.”
“Oh, how wonderful! Did you hear that, Bill? Johnny and June are going to dance now!”
Katie imitated Clay and tilted her cup back, downing her drink before taking a deep breath and hollering, “It was nice meetin’ y’all!” Clay gripped her arm and pulled her away from the couple. She giggled as he led her into the middle of the dancing crowd, the buzz of the alcohol making her feel warm and relaxed. When he pulled her taut against his chest, she couldn’t help but look up at her handsome cowboy and swoon. His thoroughly tousled hair curled around his ears and the gold flecks in his eyes sparkled in the neon lights. She lightly kissed his bottom lip before biting it ever-so-slightly, thrilled that they were having so much fun.
“Mmm,” he mumbled, sliding his hands down the small of her back to her denim behind, squeezing her round cheeks quickly. They joined the other dancers who were two-stepping to a song in two-four time with a firm beat. “Where’d you learn to do the Texas two-step?” Clay asked, holding her by the waist with one hand and her right hand in the other.
“Stace took me to the Spruill Arts Center for four weeks of dance lessons. It was a birthday present a couple of years ago,” she shouted over the music.
“You’re real good at this.” He navigated her body around a turn, following the crowd in a circle.
“You ain’t so bad yourself!”
As they passed the bar area, Susan waved enthusiastically and snapped another photo making Katie laugh. “Thanks for playing along with those tourists…Johnny.”
“You’re welcome, June.” The smile he offered made her toes curl in her boots as he spun her across the floor.
The rest of the weekend was a whirlwind. Clay took Katie to several iconic Nashville spots including Centennial Park where they toured a life-size replica of Athens’ famous Parthenon. They had a blast at the Ernest Tubbs Record Store where they searched for treasure among the wooden bins of plastic covered CDs and albums. The highlight of their last full day together was supper at the famous Loveless Café where they ate the best Southern-fried chicken, homemade biscuits, and sweet tea. They even stopped by the Warner Music offices where he showed her some of the writing rooms he frequented when he was working on a new song. She couldn’t quite coerce him into performing the song he penned for her, but it was only a matter of time. She was sure of it.
He was the perfect gentleman the entire weekend, opening doors, holding her by the elbow to cross the street, paying for everything and pleasing her sexually like no other man had before. By the time Sunday afternoon came around, she felt the heaviness of their impending goodbye weighing on her shoulders. How could she leave him after the incredible weekend they just had? How could life be anything but ordinary after they had become so incredibly intimate both physically and emotionally? She continued to pack her things into her rolling suitcase on the bed, keeping her emotions at bay.
“You need any help?” Clay asked, leaning in the doorway. She was holding the red cowboy boots and looked up with a smile.
“No, I’ve got it. I’m almost finished.”
He nodded and approached her from behind, encircling her waist with his arms and resting his chin on her shoulder. Katie closed her eyes and sighed. They stood there for several seconds in silence, content just holding each other.
“What would happen if I came to Atlanta this weekend to see you?” he whispered, his warm breath tickling her ear.
A smile illuminated her face as she remembered his little game. “I would love that. What would happen if I came to Nashville the weekend after that?”
He turned her around and palmed her cheek staring at her with intensity. “That would rock my world.”
She leaned into his warmth and held on for dear life, not ready to leave the handsome cowboy she was falling for. The tightness of his grip was an indication that he wasn’t ready to let go either.