“Oh, Clay, of course I do. I’m planning on it.” Her wide grin made her feel like the old Dana, the woman she was under the layers of protection she’d carefully constructed over the last years. Tough, taking care of herself, not letting anyone take advantage of her.
“You get them, kid.”
Chapter Six
Clay poured coffee into mugs as Dana finished loading the dishwasher. Carrying both cups outside, he was surprised when she came out with a plate in hand and placed it between them on the table. He took one look and knew Dana was home. The soft oatmeal raisin cookies were covered with thick, white icing. Picking one up, he bit into it, savoring the taste and texture.
“I haven’t had these since before you went away. Ruth flatly refused to make them. Said they were your favorites and she couldn’t bring herself to enjoy them without you.” Finishing it, he reached for another. “Are you glad to be home, Dana?” He watched as she pulled off small bits of the cookie she held, eating it bite by small bite as she sipped at her coffee.
“It was time for me to come home. I’ve been away a long time.”
“But?” he prompted.
“I just need to settle in. When the rest of my stuff gets here, when the project gets going…I’m still adjusting.”
Another small bit of cookie to her mouth, he watched her graceful hands as she moved. “Like a fish out of water kind of feeling?” Clay asked, hesitating to take another cookie.
“Something like that, but not really. I left here at sixteen. I’ve led a very charmed life for my twenty-six years.”
“I agree, which is why you’re probably having trouble settling back.”
“Not exactly back, Clay. It’s more like…oh, hell. I can’t really explain it to myself, how can I explain it to you?” She sighed, and then sipped her coffee. “I just…I need to work, that’s what it is really. Having these last weeks off sounded great. Now that I have it, time is dragging.”
“When can you get started with your plans for the mansion?”
“Board meets the first Monday of every month. I’ve written and asked to be put on their docket.”
“That’s still two weeks away.”
“I know, I know. Don’t remind me.”
“Why not take a mini-vacation, do some shopping or something?”
Dana left in silence, Clay wondering what he had said wrong. She returned with the coffeepot, refilling their mugs. “Did I say the wrong thing?”
“No.” But her laugh told him different. Leaning forward across the table, she pursed her lips together. “Can I tell you a secret, one you promise never to divulge, even under severe torture?”
“My favorite kind, tell me.”
“You’ll think it’s stupid.” She sat back, using the mug to shield her face. “I hate shopping.”
Clay pushed back from the table, questioning her statement with his eyes. “I don’t think I heard you right, Dana. You, the queen of the mall, the woman who can find the perfect gift for anyone? I’m not sure I really believe that.”
“Really, Clay, I’m not kidding. It’s lost its joy.” She sipped again, refusing to put the mug down. “I suppose I finally grew up, but it doesn’t hold any joy or elation for me anymore. Frankly, give me a comfortable pair of jeans and a few clean Tshirts, and I’m happy these days.”
“You really have changed, haven’t you? I remember days when just the mention of a store name could get you all hot and bothered.” Dana laughed out loud at his embarrassment. He did, too. “All right, wrong choices of words, but you know what I mean.”
“Yes, I do. Fancy clothes hanging in a closet. I’d rather spend my money on the mansion. The renovation means a lot to me, Clay. Grandfather left it to me to be cared for. I can’t break that trust.”
“Dana, have you seen a doctor lately? I’m not sure you really are Dana Britton, model and cover girl extraordinaire, champion for all the lost causes, voice for the meek.”
“She died a long time ago, Clay.” With that, she left him at the patio table.
He waited a while, hearing the music turned off. He blew out the oil lamp they had used for illumination then took their mugs inside. On his return trip, he brought in the plate of cookies and the coffeepot. She joined him as he was rinsing the pot.
“Sorry, I couldn’t handle the music anymore.”
“No problem. We’re just about cleaned up here.” He turned, leaning on the sink watching her across the room. “I guess I should head out, leave you to enjoy your evening alone.”
Again her laughter surprised him. “I have a better idea. Give me five minutes,” she hollered back as she sprinted up the back stairway.
He leaned against the sink, gathering his thoughts, wondering what she had in mind. Clay’s mind conjured up several ideas that would please him. From dancing in the dark with her to tossing her headfirst into the pool. He hadn’t heard her return. When he turned around, she was dressed in old jeans, riding boots, and a flannel shirt long discarded by Jeff. He raised an eyebrow at her.
“Let’s ride, Clay.” Dana reached out her hand, and he took hers. She half pulled, half dragged him to the barn. He had forgotten her years spent in the stables, the connection she had with the animals. She had her favorite, William, saddled and ready as he was just tossing the blanket over his mount’s back.
“Clay, for God’s sake, I’d want to ride tonight, not tomorrow,” she taunted him, lifting the heavy saddle from its wooden rack onto the horse’s back like it was a feather. Her hands fastened leather straps and harness with amazing speed.
“We should have taken the bike then,” he told her.
“Next time.” She was mounted and waiting for him to catch up. Once he was seated, she led their way from the barn, past the paddock and to the pasture. There, she turned to look at him over her shoulder, then gave the horse a slight nudge with her heel. Britton horses were trained, and Dana knew how to handle a horse. She was a quarter mile ahead when he finally gave his horse the nudge to catch up.
Walking the horses along the river in the moonlight, Clay was conjuring up all sorts of romantic pictures in his head. Dana seemed comfortable to just walk. He knew better than to ask his personal questions, didn’t really want to know the answers, but he had no choice.
“Dana, how do you feel about me?” She stopped walking, using the horse as a shield. “Do you hate me?”
“Of course not.”
“Do you find me unappealing?”
“Clay, don’t be foolish, you’re one of the most handsome men I’ve ever met. Fishing for compliments?” Her expression changed as if an alarm went off in the back of her mind. He suddenly felt he was sinking while standing on dry land.
“Is it the brother thing, growing up with me around all the time?” This time he waited while she thought about her answer.
“No. Since I went away, that all kind of changed, didn’t it?”
“Yes, it has.
“Where are you going with this, Clay?”
“I want to know why you keep backing off. Why, Dana? You let me kiss you, hold you, then suddenly you go cold in my arms. What am I doing wrong?” He stopped walking, taking the horse’s lead from her hand. “I need to understand.”
Dana walked closer to the river’s edge, the small waves lapping near her boots. “Clay, I can’t be the woman you want me to be.”
“Why?”
“It’s just not in me, that’s all. Stop wasting your time on me. I can’t help it. If I could change, I would.”
Clay looped the horse’s leads over a low branch of a nearby tree. In the moonlight, dressed in flannel and denim, Dana was the one woman he knew he could spend the rest of his life with. His hands came to her shoulders from behind, pulling her close against his chest.
“You are the woman I want,” he whispered to her. No reaction. Great, just great. A moonlit night on the river, the woman of his dreams in his arms, touching him, yet she was so far away. He felt her take a jagged breath, and he squeezed her s
houlders tighter. “Please, Dana, tell me. Do you want me to leave you alone, should I just go away?”
“Oh, God, Clay, can’t you see? I don’t have it in me. It just isn’t there. I don’t seem to have the capacity for a normal, loving relationship. If I thought I could change I’d do it for you. But no matter what I try, I’m still the same deep down.” She hesitated as if she were deciding what to tell him. “Maybe if we lived someplace anonymous it would be better, but we don’t.”
Now he was just more confused than before. “Dana, what are you talking about, and please be specific.”
“It doesn’t matter, Clay. I won’t change. I’ve learned things about myself you won’t like. I’m trying to be fair to both of us. I do love you, but it would never work.” Pulling away from him, she all but sprinted to her horse, untying his lead. She mounted with ease then looked down. “I’m so sorry, Clay.”
He caught the lead in his hand, choosing his words carefully. “Dana, if I ever find out who hurt you…”
“It doesn’t matter, Clay, but nobody hurt me. It’s more what I’ve learned about myself over time. Leave it alone. It’s just not in my nature to be conventional.”
“No. You’re wrong. I’ve seen you with Jeff and Lisa. The way you used to throw your arms around me. It’s in there, Dana, you just have to find it again.”
“You’re wrong. It was never there.”
“I’ve seen you with Adam, especially when you think nobody is around. You can’t tell me you don’t have the capacity to love, Dana. I know you do.” With that, Clay slapped her horse on its back, sending it galloping into the darkness. He took his time mounting his, opting for a slow ride back to the barn. Once there, he saw her horse had been taken care of. He went through the motions of putting his away, brushing him down, feeding him, all the while wondering what had really happened to Dana while she was away. Who could have hurt her so deeply that she believed she couldn’t love anyone? The thought haunted his days and kept him from sleep for nights to come.
The only lightbulb moment he had on the subject was that maybe she decided she liked women better in a sexual situation. That was a double blow to his ego, one he knew he couldn’t fight or change.
In the back of his mind, Clay knew this wasn’t a good idea. He drove up the road anyway, knowing Dana would be alone. He parked his truck out front, walking around the big house toward the pool area when he stopped dead in his tracks. Up ahead, he saw her. On the patio of the guesthouse, she was lying on a chaise lounge, her eyes closed. She didn’t stir when he approached or took the chair next to her.
So peaceful. There was an empty glass on the table next to her, the bottle of wine next to it three quarters full. It bothered him when he couldn’t walk away. Whatever she was wearing wasn’t covering much. The pink slip, silky with thin straps and a wide band of lace across the low scoop neck didn’t leave much to his imagination. One strap had slipped down, the top of her left breast presenting itself. Her legs were bare. The material ended just at her thighs.
Surveying the area around him, there were seven large empty packing boxes, stuffed with assorted packing material and debris.
“Wore yourself out, kid,” he whispered as he leaned over, taking her up into his arms. Lifting her to his chest, she came awake.
“Clay?”
“Go back to sleep, sweetheart, I’m just taking you inside.” Clay realized it was the second time he’d slipped and called her that. He’d have to be more careful from now on.
“What time is it?” Her arms came around his neck, her breath warm against his cheek.
“Doesn’t matter, it’s late.” He pushed open the door to the guesthouse with his hip. “Go back to sleep, you’re exhausted.”
She didn’t struggle or fight him as he put her down on the soft covers of her bed. This was the first time he had been to the guesthouse in years. Dana’s style touches were everywhere. While the furniture looked the same, she’d rearranged it, making the space look entirely different. Pale blue and green water-washed silks covered her bed and pillows. She stayed where he put her. Pausing, he pulled the other half of the comforter over her legs.
“Clay, did we have a date?” she whispered.
Kneeling down beside her, he smoothed the hair back from her face. “No. Jeff told me your stuff came. I stopped by to see if you needed a hand.”
“Oh.” She snuggled down against the pillow. “Thanks, I’m almost finished.”
“I can see that. Go to sleep, I’ll call you tomorrow.” He waited for her to drift back to sleep, kissing her forehead before he left her. There was a fancy box on the bench at the foot of her bed. It was covered in a flowered paper. It definitely wasn’t a moving box, he decided. He took a few steps toward the door and paused, turning back to look at it a second time. His mind wandered to what might be inside it. Walk away, he told himself several times before he found himself standing in front of it again.
Trust was supposed to be sacrosanct, but he could feel his fingertips itching to open it. Glancing to Dana’s sleeping form, he watched her patterned breathing and let his fingers slip the cover off the box. Clay had to hold back his gasp when he saw what was inside. At first he stood stunned, then curiosity took over, and he reached inside. He didn’t count the items, just lifted the top few to see what lay beneath. “What the hell,” he said in a hushed tone, beyond confused. Clay pushed one dildo aside and saw another, then another. The entire carton was filled with sex toys. He recognized the dildos and vibrators. There were leather rings at the bottom, and he didn’t stop himself from picking one up and swirling it around his finger. As it spun in circles, he realized it was a cock ring and dropped it back in the box. He was about to put the cover back on when he pulled another leather item from the bottom. It was a pair of leather handcuffs, using Velcro to keep them in place. This was a bit too much, and he threw them back in the box. He was careful to put the dildos back on top and pulled the cover closed. With every step he took, it seemed the floorboards creaked or groaned, and he was afraid she would wake up. He waited in the living room, scanning the area’s confusion of belongings.
“Damn,” he said, trying to figure out who Dana had become. Was this why she kept pushing him away? Did she think her use of sex toys would shock him? His cock surged as he pictured her on her knees, her hands tied behind her back with the leather straps wrapped around her wrists. His cock twitched when he wondered if she’d use a ring on his cock to prolong him from coming. Clay had always thought he was a sophisticated man, now he knew he wasn’t as worldly as Dana. She’d traveled extensively, and his mind reeled with ideas of possibilities of what, where, and how she learned about the items. More important, who taught her how to use them?
In the main living area, stacks of books stood, waiting to find their spot. He saw several torn photographs lying in the empty fireplace. Another moral dilemma, he knew. Turning to leave, he stopped. Clay held a mental battle with himself. She obviously wanted to destroy the pictures. It wasn’t his place to see them. Then why was he reaching to retrieve them? He took the pieces to the desk, putting aside a file box covered with blue flowered paper similar to the one he found in her bedroom, fitting them together.
Dana looked back at him from the pictures. In each one, the same man watched him, too. “Mocking me,” he decided. That was the look, arrogant and belligerent. Knowing it must have been Walker, he turned the pieces over, looking for a notation. He found none. What he did find was the saddest he had ever seen Dana look. It wasn’t anything specific in each photo, just emptiness in her eyes. It was evident she had lost her fire.
Gathering them, he tossed them back into the hearth. Having a face to put to his anger was refreshing. Now when he pummeled the man in his mind, he could watch the blue eyes swell shut, the blonde hair run red with bloodstains. He had seen the man before, ads and commercials. He hadn’t liked the look of him then either, and that was before he knew he had touched Dana. Burying his head in his hands, he knew that was the part
that hurt the worst.
Clay reeled himself back in. It wouldn’t help him or Dana to let his anger get a hold of him. He had asked Lisa casually if she knew of anyone Dana was dating before she left the city. All she had told him was not for a while, not since Walker. He knew Lisa had been trying to tell him Dana had left Walker, now he had to find a way to leave his image behind too. Pausing to switch off the desk light, he saw a similar floral covered box again. Placing it back in the center of the desk, he slipped the cover back.
He knew he had gone too far. She slept just a few yards away. If she woke and found him going through her private papers, she’d never trust him again. As he was about to place the cover back on the box, he saw another photo. Tugging it from the stack of papers, he saw himself and Dana looking back, taken at Jeff and Lisa’s wedding. A snapshot someone had taken, not a professional. It was just short of being blurry. In it, they were dancing, she was holding him close, and her arms around his neck, her face lay on his shoulder, her eyes closed. He was holding her around the waist, his head leaning against the side of her head.
“I’ve never seen this before,” he said aloud. Clay held the photo for a long time. It brought back memories he had tried to hide for so long. The wedding should have been fun, not torture. He knew he loved her before that day, but standing across the chapel from her it had all changed for him. No longer was she little Dana, the kid that had followed him and his friend. That night, she was a flesh and blood woman, the woman he wanted. Placing the photo back, he slid the top on the box and shut out the light. The telephone rang, startling him like a thief in the night, stealing Dana’s secrets, he thought. On the second ring, her machine picked up.
“You’ve reached me, I’m not here. Talk to the machine.”
Vintage Dana, he smiled. The male voice that spoke bothered Clay as much as the message he left.
“Darling, it’s Gavin. Call me, you know how I hate to talk to these stupid machines. I’ve a wonderful idea for us, call me. It’s important!”
Payne, Lillith - His Unconventional Woman (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 7