Dearest Clementine

by Lex Martin

  “Hey, babe,” I say as she opens the door to the practice room. “You sound great.”

  Her eyebrows lift and her lips purse before she flicks me in the arm, making me laugh.

  “I thought you said these rooms were soundproof.”

  God, she’s even more gorgeous when she’s pissed.

  “I said they were mostly soundproof.” I flash that grin I know she loves, and her icy exterior melts a little. Then I go in for the kill, kissing her on the forehead, and once I have her up against my chest, I don’t let go. That’s when she sighs and wraps her arms around my waist. “So you have boxes you need help with?”

  Clementine nods against me. I’m not sure if that’s code for some kind of naked activity, but I try not to let my mind wander in case she really just needs a mover. I’ve been trying hard to not be a big boner around her, which is difficult since about everything she does is sexy. Only she doesn’t know it. That’s why she’s irresistible.

  But I want her to know that our relationship is about more than sex. So I told her as much. That was a great discussion. She ended up yelling at me, telling me she was afraid she was defective and she wouldn’t blame me if I didn’t want to sleep with her again. As fucking if. I’m not entirely sure how a goddess like Clementine ends up with one ounce of insecurity, but it’s my main mission in life to make her understand that she’s extraordinary, inside and out.

  “Are we still meeting up with Olivia and Kade for dinner?” she asks as she slips her hand in mine.

  “Yeah, he texted me the address of the restaurant this morning.”

  Olivia has taken the semester off to recover from the trauma of what happened this fall, but she talks constantly to Clementine and Brigit. I think they’ve formed a kind of support group that’s helping the three of them get through this. Agent Robertson told Olivia’s family that Clementine helped piece together some of the missing parts in their investigation. Like the fact that Wheeler had access to a yacht, which is why no airline had any record of him returning stateside in July.

  Although authorities added rape to Wheeler’s charges of kidnapping, to see the way Olivia is handling everything, you’d never know he held her captive in his guest house for almost three months. She says she’s just grateful to be alive and doesn’t want him to take anything else from her.

  So far, the identity of his first rape victim–the one he attacked when he was in college–hasn't been made public, but I've heard through the grapevine she is preparing to testify against him. And because of all the photos Wheeler took of Clementine, the district attorney tacked on stalking charges, which could add another five years to his sentence when that asshole is found guilty.

  I know it bothers my girl to have her name dragged through the media because of Wheeler, but she says if Olivia can handle it, she can too. And fuck if I don’t love her more because of how brave she’s been through all of this.

  Olivia and Kade have been hanging out, and even though he realizes she won’t be ready for anything serious for a while, he says he wants to wait and see what happens with their friendship. I’ve never seen Kade try so hard to not be a dumbass. Olivia’s disappearance really changed him. Clementine and Kade are even tight now, which is shocking to everyone who knows them because their fights are legendary.

  When we get to Clementine’s apartment, there’s a box out in the living room with her name written on the side. I recognize it as the one her brother brought over a while back.

  “Is this the box? Do you want me to get rid of it?”

  She shakes her head and pats the seat next to her on the couch. She’s biting her lip. Clementine does that when she’s nervous or afraid. It’s adorable. And sexy as hell. Focus, Gavin. The girl clearly doesn’t want sex right now.

  Tilting her head down, she glances up at me and smiles shyly. Man, that smile. For a girl who tends to scare most men, she’s surprisingly shy, unsure even. Thinking about her like this makes my chest hurt. I know—I’m going to lose my man card at this rate.

  “You’re always saying you want to know me better, so I thought we could go through it together,” she says, swallowing.

  “Sure. Sounds good.” I try to sound chill when I respond, but I know this is a big deal for her. She’s breathing harder and fisting her hands at her side. I remember the argument she had with Jax when he brought it here and can tell she’s about to lose it.

  Finally, I can’t stand one more second like this so I reach over and pull her into my lap. She laughs, surprised. I kiss her neck slowly before I reach down to her waist and wiggle my fingers against her ribs.

  “Gavin! Don’t tickle me! Damn it.” She tries to get up, but I throw her down on the couch. She’s laughing, and she’s pissed, and fuck, I love her.

  She pauses, mid-gasp, and reaches for my shirt, yanking me down to her.

  But before my lips reach hers, I stop. “No, I’m not your sex toy. We have to open your box first.”

  She snorts. “You know that sounds sexual, right?”

  “Baby, I’m trying to incentivize you to stop spazzing out.”

  “By using your body?” She can’t hide her amusement.

  “We could go with chocolate or a latte, but you seem to like my body.”

  Her tongue peeks out between her teeth, and her hair is fanning out beneath her. Then she rakes her fingers down my chest as her eyes pass over me languidly. “I love your body.”

  I’m having a difficult time focusing on the goal here. I clear my throat and try to think about who won the World Series last year and the year before that and the year before that. When I think I can construct a coherent sentence, I kiss her nose and pull her up.

  “You can use and abuse me any way you want after we get the box open. It’s not a big deal. Just stuff from high school. Everyone has junk like this.” I know that she didn’t date for years over all the shit that went down her senior year. Sorting through this will be therapeutic, which gives us a better shot of making it for the long haul, so I have to stay focused here because this girl is most definitely my long haul.

  “Really?” She looks hopeful.

  “Yup. My mother saved some flowers she gave me when I graduated and it grew mold.”

  She giggles. I’m always surprised by how little it takes to make her laugh.

  The box is still sealed with clear packing tape, so I grab my keys and run it along the length before she gets a chance to get scared again. I look in and shrug.

  “See, yearbooks and photos. Nothing major.”

  She peeks into the box. Then at me. Her shoulders relax and she smiles, interlacing her fingers through mine and plants a kiss on my cheek, and I don’t know if winning a Pulitzer could feel this good.

  For the next hour, she pulls out books and photos and knickknacks. I grab a picture from homecoming and one from prom and set them side by side. It’s like the before-and-after photos of a car wreck. In the first, she’s glowing, all smiles and charm. She’s in a crowd, but it’s like she’s the center of it, as though the force of her gravity is pulling everyone toward her. In the second photo, she’s posing with a couple of friends, but the light has gone out of her eyes. She’s mechanical, stiff, hurt.

  Her movement next to me catches my attention as she flips through her freshman yearbook. She covers her mouth because she’s embarrassed about her hair when she was fourteen, and I laugh when I see it because she looks like a tiny supermodel. Right now, she seems so relaxed, like the past doesn’t consume her anymore. She smiles, and it’s blazing and brilliant.

  My heart thumps quickly as I realize I have the “before” girl sitting next to me on the couch. She’s full of light and energy and boundless determination. I mean, who writes two books in college?

  Her professor, Marceaux, the one she says tortured her to write about intimacy, loved her submissions in class and not only wants to help her edit her new novel for publication this winter, but she wants Clementine to guest-lecture next spring. If I didn’t love her so much, I
’d be jealous.

  And at least there’s an upside to the Wheeler bullshit. After he outted her in class, her book sales for Say It Isn’t So skyrocketed. Not only can she pay off her school loans, but she’ll have something left over. She’s already had a full-time job offer at the campus bookstore, but I’m trying to talk her into taking next year off from everything to write. I know she wants to dust off some of her other story ideas and polish them up for publication. I want to help her do that.

  “What?” she asks, looking at me puzzled.

  “What do you mean, what?”

  “Why are you staring at me like that?” She looks at me sideways, and I wonder if she knows she owns my ass.

  This is it. This is the right time. “What are you doing for Thanksgiving? I was wondering if you’d like to spend it with me in Connecticut.”

  Her mouth opens into an “o” and she inhales deeply. She’s quiet. For too long. Shit. Maybe this is too soon.

  “You mean with you and your family?”

  “They might be there.” I look up at the ceiling and shrug. “Someone has to cook the bird, and I’m sure as hell not gonna do it.”

  She lets out a nervous laugh. Taking a long strand of hair between her fingers, she suddenly gets interested in the very tip, like she might have an errant split end.

  I know this is new for her, being in a relationship. God, it’s new for me. I’ve dated girls, girls I actually thought I was serious about, but everyone pales in comparison to Clementine. Sometimes she makes me feel like I could forget how to tie my shoes if I’m not careful.

  That thing in my chest, my heart, beats a little erratically as I wait for her to say something. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and scramble for a little more footing.

  “You know, if you’re not up for it, no biggie.”

  “No, no, I would love to meet your family.” There she goes, biting her lip, giving me that shy look. “I was thinking, though, that maybe you could come with me. To see mine.” Her big blue eyes are wide as she studies my face.

  I don’t breathe. I’m not sure I even blink.

  She nods, understanding my confusion. “My father called, and he's in town for a while and wants to see me. I told him I wouldn’t visit if my mother was there, but he said it would only be Jax and me. But I’d like for you to come too. If you have the time.”

  I know what this means. She hasn’t been home since high school, and she’s asking me to go with her. If my girl wants me there, damn straight I’ll be there.

  “Of course I’ll go with you.” I lean over and rub my nose against hers as I lace our fingers together.

  I think back to our freshman year and wonder what would have happened if she hadn’t taken that leave of absence and I had asked her on a date like I planned. Except I came to class that day to find her seat empty.

  Her eyes flutter closed, and just like that, she’s too far away.

  Wrapping my arms around her, I lift her onto my lap so that she sits astride me.

  She squeals, but her laughter quickly fades as she nestles closer and grips my shoulders.

  Her breath quickens and her blue eyes darken. I tangle my fingers through her long hair, gently tugging her to me until our mouths seal together.

  She sighs against me, and I feel it too. How right we are together.

  Because I know that there is nothing on this planet as perfect for me as this woman.

  And you can bet your ass I plan to give my girl a happily ever after. Starting right now.

  -

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS -

  My first shout-out is to AJ Pine, my hand twin. I'm so glad you saw my Facebook comment that day and realized I was attempting to write. I'd still be screwing around with those ten thousand words if it weren't for you. How did I not realize you were my soul sister when we worked together? Thank you for running this marathon with me!

  The puzzle of my writing life wasn't complete until AJ and I met Megan Erickson and Natalie Blitt. Girls, thank you for all of your amazing writing insight, encouragement and dirty jokes. You three are phenomenal writers, and I'm honored I get to read your books before anyone else!

  Being totally new to self-publishing, I turned to two writers whose work I love and admire. Krista and Becca Ritchie, thank you for answering all of my newbie questions, for teaching me how to format, and for loving Charlie Dalton as much as I do. Your books are like crack, and if I fangirl anymore over your work, people are going to think I have a problem. Please consider grafting me on as the triplet in the Ritchie family tree. xoxo!

  RJ Locksley, thank you for your amazing copy edits. I'm so glad I found you! (Big hugs from the states!)

  I have to thank Taryn Albright for her suggestions to improve Clementine. Taryn, your ass kickings always hurt, but I'm a better writer because of it.

  I've also received so much support from my FebNo and NAAU friends. You guys are awesome! I've learned so much from you.

  My number one reader is Taylor Hyslop. Tay, thank you for your enthusiasm, even for my early stuff that will never see the light of day. I love when you send me messages in the middle of the night, freaking out over my characters. Sorry I made you ugly cry on the subway with Dani's story! Because of you, I wrote Jax's book next instead of Daren's, which was the right thing to do. You're the best!

  To my friends who read Clementine–Barb, Patisa, Helen, Sabra, Sue Ellen, Russ and Scott. Thank you for all of your love and support! Russ, you get a special shout-out because you're the first guy to read Clementine. Thanks, buddy.

  I'd be remiss not to thank my Chicago crew who supported my early work and inspired me every step of the way. Gary, Tony, Kevin and Henry, you have no idea how much you've impacted your students and colleagues. I'm honored I got to work with you. Antonette and Laura, I miss you every day.

  We all have teachers who inspire us. Mine were Mr. Lubbering and Mrs. Mengden. Mr. L, thank you for teaching me to draw outside of the lines. I try to remember that every day with my own students. Mrs. Mengden, you were the best AP English teacher. Thanks for loving my poetry and teaching me the value of re-writing.

  Even though I haven't seen my Texas family in forever, I miss them so much! I have a crazy huge extended family that is unruly and awesome and never follows the rules, and I can't imagine my life without them. I want to thank my cousin Lisa who read my YA novel and has been an awesome cheerleader. I have so many aunts, uncles and cousins I should mention, but I'd need several pages to do that properly, so I'm simply going to thank them with hugs and kisses. Love y'all!

  This is where I thank my kick-ass parents. My mom used to tell people I was a writer, and I'd think, "Mom, why are you lying?" lol. Even after I got a degree in journalism and freelanced for a few years, I didn't think that about myself. Mom, thank you for your vision and all of your help these past few years! Kerry, thanks for letting my mom visit so often. You're the best step-dad ever!

  Dad, you're my biggest inspiration. I love your positivity and focus. You taught me that I could learn anything from a book. Thanks for always kicking my bootie if I tried to do anything "half-assed" and for working two and three jobs to put me through all those great schools. I know Boston University cost a helluva lot of money, but you never complained. I know the sacrifices you've made for me, and I hope I can be the same kind of parent to my girls.

  To my husband and daughters... Matt, you're the reason I embarked down this path three years ago. Thank you for doing everything when I'm in my writing cave. You're still my Huckleberry. You only teased me a little for writing a sappy romance novel. Okay, you teased me a lot, but I also feel your admiration and respect. I mean, you just surprised me with a brand new Kindle Paperwhite because you said I'm a real writer, and I need to see what my books look like. I heart you so much! There's no one else I'd want to do this with. Girls, I'm sorry I'm always preoccupied with the stories in my head. Thank you for your patience. I love you scads! Please don't read Mommy's books. Ever.

  And, o
f course, to the amazing bloggers out there who reviewed Clementine. Thank you for giving a new author a chance. Your kind words mean the world to me. And to the awesome Natalie, Jennifer, Dina and Meagan at Love Between the Sheets. You guys rock! Natalie, thank you for holding my hand as I wade through these crazy waters!

  Lastly, to my readers. I hope I gave you a little angst, a little love, a few laughs and some warm fuzzies. You'll never know how much your support means to me! I love hearing from you and reading your reviews. Thank you for taking the time to reach out to me.

  xoxo,

  Lex

  -

  OTHER NOVELS BY LEX MARTIN -

  If you enjoyed Clementine’s story, Jax and Daren have their own books coming out later this year. Look for Finding Dandelion in June and Kissing Madeline this fall.

  Finding Dandelion Synopsis:

  When Dani Hart and Jax Avery collide on his twenty-first birthday, the rules are obvious. Or at least they should be. No names. No strings.

  Jax has never had a problem with a hit-it and quit-it before… until he kisses the beautiful girl dancing in the cage.

  But Dani knows better. One night with a sexy stranger means nothing more than a little fun. And keeping it anonymous means keeping her heart safe from getting attached… which might work if Jax wasn't her new roommate's brother.

  Finding Dandelion is a stand-alone novel with two companion novels. This New Adult romance is recommended for readers 18+ due to mature content.

  -

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR -

  Lex Martin writes new adult novels, the sexy kind with lotsa angst, a whole lotta kissing, and the hot happily ever afters. When she's not writing, she lives a parallel life as an English teacher. She loves printing black and white photos, listening to music on vinyl, and getting lost in a great book. Bitten by wanderlust, this native Texan has lived all over the country, but she currently resides in the City of Angels with her husband and twin daughters.