Georgia Clay (Southern Promises Book 1)

by KG Fletcher

  “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 stil
l 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.”