Page 49 of Let It Breathe (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #1)

R eese woke up blinking beneath a thin sheet of sunlight blazing through her half-open blinds. She grabbed her phone to check the time, startled to realize it was after eight a.m.

She hadn’t slept that late in years.

She patted the mattress beside her, hating the twinge of disappointment she felt at discovering Clay wasn’t there. Sitting up, she swung her legs out of bed just as Clay swept through the doorway wearing a pair of boxer shorts and carrying a breakfast tray.

“Not so fast.” He set the tray on the nightstand, picked up her legs, and lifted them back into bed. Then he crawled in beside her and grabbed the tray.

Reese reached for a cup of coffee. “Breakfast in bed?”

“We already used the kitchen for bedroom activities.” He grinned as he pulled the sheets up around them. “Might as well use the bedroom for eating.”

“Very wise,” she said and bit into a piece of toast.

“I am wise. That’s why we’re going to argue now.”

She raised an eyebrow. “That’s your idea of post-coital romance?”

“No, breakfast is my idea of post-coital romance.” He bit the corner off his own piece of toast. “The arguing is foreplay for more romance.”

She swallowed a mouthful of coffee, studying Clay over the rim of her mug. He looked awfully cheerful, which made sense considering how many things they’d done last night to give each other reasons to smile.

But now it was daylight, and uncertainty trickled through her consciousness like it always did.

“You have doubts,” Clay said, apparently reading her mind as he spooned eggs onto a plate and grabbed a fork. “So I’m going to shoot them down one by one. Start anywhere you like.”

Reese shook her head, smiling in spite of herself. “This is all part of your new ‘say what you mean, even if it’s rude’ agenda?”

“Pretty much.”

“Fine. I run a vineyard. I live at a vineyard. You are a former alcoholic.”

“No, I am an alcoholic,” he pointed out. “I’ll always be an alcoholic. I just happen to be in recovery.”

“That’s not helping your cause.”

“Yes, it is, because I recognize it.” Clay scooped up a helping of eggs. “You know how many drunks can’t do that?”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Clay shoved in a forkful of eggs.

“Chew,” he ordered. “Here’s the thing, Reese—I know myself better than I ever did when I was a drunk.

I know what my triggers are and how to avoid them.

I know what I can and can’t handle, and I know I can handle being at a vineyard.

What I can’t handle is being at this vineyard with you always worrying that I’m going to dive headfirst into a barrel of Chardonnay.

” He gave a dramatic shudder. “I always hated Chardonnay.”

“I love Chardonnay.”

“Perfect. More for you. See how well this is working out?”

“You’re asking me to trust you,” she said flatly.

“No, I’m telling you to trust me. I’ll earn it—believe me, I’ve been working on that. But I need you to give me a chance.”

She hesitated, then nodded. “You’re right. I owe you a chance.”

“Damn straight. Next doubt?”

She sighed and nibbled the corner of her toast. “You slept with my cousin.”

“You slept with my best friend. Actually, you married him. That’s much worse, but I’m not dwelling on it. You know why?”

“Why?” A shudder ran through her. She kinda liked this take-charge version of Clay.

“Because that marriage only lasted a year. And ours is going to last a lot longer than that.”

Reese choked on her toast. Clay handed her a glass of orange juice, patting her back until she stopped coughing.

She stared at him through watery eyes. “Did you just propose to me?”

“Of course not. I’ll be much more romantic when I propose. I’m only informing you that I will be proposing eventually, and when I do, you will say yes and we will live happily ever after.”

“You’re nuts.”

“That’s why you love me. And also why you’ll say yes to my proposal.”

Reese set her toast back on the plate, and Clay grabbed her hand. He lifted it to his mouth, kissing the back of her knuckles. A ripple of pleasure rolled from her wrist to the tips of her toes.

“Are you going to argue?” he asked. “Tell me you don’t love me? That you don’t want to be with me?”

She looked up from her toast and met his eyes. Despite the cockiness in his speech, she saw real fear there. Reese swallowed hard as tears threatened to clog up her throat.

“I can’t,” she said.

“Can’t argue or can’t be with me?”

“Both,” she said, swallowing again. “Clay, I’m scared. I don’t think I’m cut out for long-term relationships.”

“That’s bullshit.”

She laughed. “That’s your argument?”

“No, that’s just the start of it. Want to know what I think?”

“Does it matter if I do?”

“No, I’m going to tell you anyway.” He took a bite of toast and chewed, while Reese wiggled her fingers inside his grip. His hand felt good—warm and solid and strong.

“I think you need to stop judging yourself by other people’s relationship standards,” he said.

“You’ve been listening to Eric wax poetic about relationships being hard work and your parents spout about soulmates and Larissa yammer on about the importance of good sex while Axl tells you—actually, I’m a little afraid to guess what your grandpa’s relationship advice entails. ”

“Nudist colonies,” she said. “Also, he says I should ignore everyone else’s relationships and focus on setting my own standards.”

“Oh.” Clay tilted his head. “In that case, I agree with him. The last part, not the nudist colonies. Smart grandpa.”

Nodding, she bit her lip. “I hate to say it, but you’re right.”

Clay looked at her. “Really?”

She squeezed his hand. “Really. I know I’ve been a bitch. I know I’ve been a cynic. I know I haven’t given you the benefit of the doubt these last few days, but I’m going to change that. I want to change that. I want to be with you, Clay. I do.”

He laughed. “Damn. I didn’t figure you’d be this easy.”

She rolled her eyes. “You had me naked three days after you got back to town. You bent me over my own kitchen counter last night. You really didn’t think I’d be easy?”

He grinned and set the breakfast tray on the nightstand. Then he leaned over and kissed her. He tasted like orange juice and red peppers, and Reese was ready to drag him down on top of her and prove just how willing she was to make things work.

At least until her front door burst open.

“Reese? Reesey, where are you?”

She pulled away from Clay and sat up in bed. “Larissa?” she yelled.

Her cousin shoved through the bedroom door and dropped onto the end of the bed, cleavage bouncing under what was either a halter top or a jockstrap.

Larissa surveyed them and smiled. “Oh, good. You’re doing it.”

“Not at the moment,” Clay said. “But give us five more minutes alone?—”

“Out!” Reese commanded. A flicker of hurt flashed in Larissa’s eyes, so Reese tugged the sheet up tighter around her breasts and softened her tone. “I love you more than anyone else in the world, except maybe Clay?—”

“So you finally admit it?” Larissa grinned. “The part about Clay, I mean. Obviously, you love me.”

“I do love you,” Reese said. “And I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. But can you please get the hell out of my bedroom?”

“But I have something to tell you, and I have to do it before the others get here.”

Clay raised an eyebrow. “Others?”

“Let me put on some clothes first,” Reese said. “Then we can have a conversation in the living room like a normal family would.”

Larissa rolled her eyes, but stood up and trudged toward the living room. “Normal families are overrated.”

Clay grinned and shut the door behind her, while Reese scrambled out of bed and pulled on a rumpled pair of pajama pants and a thin tank top with no bra. She turned around to see Clay watching her and felt the warmth flood her body all over again.

“That’s a good look for you,” he said.

“Thanks. Maybe I’ll start dressing this way in the tasting room.”

“You’d certainly make my cork pop.”

Reese laughed. “It’s nice to see the old Clay is still in there somewhere.”

“Come on,” he said, taking her by the hand. “Let’s see what Larissa wants.”

They trudged out to the living room, where Larissa was bent over the baby opossum’s cage, cooing softly to the little animal. She looked up as they entered and gave them a broad smile.

“The morning-after glow looks good on you,” she said.

“Thank you,” Reese said. “And in case you missed it in there, I’m sorry for the things I said yesterday.”

“No need.” She nibbled her lip. “I have some growing up to do. I know that. I’ve been playing around for too long with boys and booze, and while I’m not a degenerate lush like Clay was?—”

“Thank you.”

Larissa smiled. “No offense.”

“None taken,” he said. “I was a degenerate lush.”

“Right. And I don’t want to become that. So I’m going to get my shit together, starting with making better choices about men. Which is why I only let your veterinarian get to second base last night.”

Reese blinked, processing her cousin’s words. “Dr. Wally?”

“Yes. I met him at some art thing last night and we hit it off and one thing led to another and?—”

“Um, congratulations?”

Larissa smiled. “Thank you. I figured you weren’t going to be dating him since you’re madly in love with Clay, so we should recycle the vet and I can date a nice guy for a change.”

“Very environmentally responsible of you,” Clay pointed out.

Larissa nodded and looked at Reese. “So are we good?”

“We’re good.” She hesitated. “I really am sorry, ’Riss. For the things I said yesterday.”

“I’m sorry, too. You’re a grump sometimes, but you’re still my third-favorite cousin.”

With that, Larissa lunged and tackled Reese in a perfume-scented bear hug. It felt warm and messy and absolutely perfect, so Reese let Larissa topple them both onto the couch. She felt Clay let go of her hand, but he sat down beside them on the sofa.

The front door flew open again, and Reese remembered her cousin’s words about the others arriving. She wriggled free from Larissa’s hug as June marched in with Jed on her heels. “Honey? Reesey?”