Page 14 of When I Should’ve Stayed (Red Bridge #2)

Josie

“Sixty-five,” I mutter to myself, unfolding various bills from my apron and setting them in a neat stack on the counter. “Seventy-five, eighty-five, ninety-five.”

I reach back into my apron to grab the leftover wad of dollar bills, Red Bridge’s favorite currency at The Diner, and finish counting out my tips until I reach one hundred and fourteen dollars.

Tonight was a pretty good night, but we were also so busy I barely had time to pee, much less sit down during my seven-hour shift.

Now, the sky is dark, and the moon has made itself known between the stars, and I am more than ready to go home. I check my phone, finding a missed text from Clay, and when I open the screen to read it, I can’t wipe the smile off my face if I want to.

Clay: You almost done at The Diner? I miss you. I need to see you.

Me: Just finishing up now. And you saw me last night.

Goose bumps appear on my arms as my mind recalls all the things that happened last night at Clay’s. We watched Three Men and a Baby together. And we ended the night with the kind of amazing, unforgettable sex that I’ll probably think about when I’m one hundred years old on my deathbed.

It was magic. Perfect. Everything.

He told me he loved me. Clay Harris loves me. But I didn’t respond. I don’t know why I didn’t respond, but it’s like the words got stuck in my throat or something.

But do I love him back? Yes, one hundred percent, I do.

Clay: And I need to see you tonight. And tomorrow night. And the next one thousand nights after that.

Me: That’s a lot of nights.

Clay: What can I say? I’m a greedy bastard when it comes to you. Sleep at my place tonight?

Me: Give me, like, ten minutes and I’ll call you.

Clay: As in, you’ll call me while you’re on your way to my place?

It’s tempting as hell to spend another night at Clay’s, but there’s a part of me that feels guilty for not heading back to Grandma Rose’s.

Lately, I’ve been sleeping at Clay’s a lot.

And yes, I know I’m an almost-twenty-six-year-old woman and my grandmother can certainly do just fine without me, but she’s important to me.

Honestly, I wouldn’t be where I am today if it weren’t for her.

Me: As in, I’ll call you. LOL.

I grab my purse and slide my tip money into my wallet.

I double-check that I’ve completed all of my after-hours tasks, and when I note that all of the tables have been refilled with napkins and ketchup bottles and salt and pepper shakers, I glance toward the hostess stand and make sure the menus are in their rightful place and there’s enough freshly rolled silverware to last the morning shift.

Time to go home.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Harold,” I say, hanging my apron on the hook by the back door of the kitchen and pulling my purse up onto my shoulder.

Harold gives me a nod and a groan while he cleans the last of the grill, and I step out into the alley and close the door behind me.

It’s a short walk up the sidewalk to the square where my relic of Ford Focus is parked, but now that we’re into fall, it’s getting dark earlier and earlier, and I have to rely on the light pole at the corner to see where I’m going.

I feel safe, though, just like I always do here in our little hamlet of a town, and the crowd across the street at the local movie theater—that features only one screen—is an assurance as well.

I see the sheriff and the mayor and half of the staff of city hall all in just one glance.

If anything were going to happen tonight, it wouldn’t be here.

It’s a stupid thought—one that starts all the murder vibe shows I’ve ever seen—and I instantly regret it when a tall, dark, intimidating shadow steps out of a little nook in the wall and comes to a stop right in front of me.

I scream, of course, and turn to run, but a strong hand stops me and pulls me back.

“Get away from me!” With both fists swinging wildly, I start fighting with everything I have.

It’s a struggle, and the man tries to subdue me with shushes, but I just scream louder. Clay was right. I had no business doing all that cheater shit. It’s coming back to bite me in spades, and now I’m going to be in a real-life episode of Law and Order: SVU .

Sheriff Peeler is yelling as he comes toward us at a run, and it’s not surprising, given his penchant for both keeping order in his town and me—having taken up an almost fatherly role for me when I came back to town at the age of eighteen—but still, I feel desperate.

My ears are humming and my heart is racing, and I swear I feel like I’m in a deep pool of water.

“Josie,” I think I hear, but it’s muffled and hard to understand. “Josie, stop. It’s me,” I think I hear again, but I push harder on my assailant’s windpipe to try to get him to let go.

“Josie!” Sheriff Pete Peeler yells finally, making me breathe a sigh of undeniable relief as my attacker releases me and stumbles toward Pete.

“Oh God, Pete, I’m so glad you’re here.” My breathing is stilted and shallow, but the relief of knowing I’m safe is enough to keep me on my feet. I grab at my chest and suck in as much air as I can.

“Uh, Jose,” Pete remarks, for some reason patting the back of the guy who was just trying to kidnap me. “Is there a reason you’re attacking Clay Harris tonight?”

My head jerks up and I take a closer look, and the startling realization of who was holding on to me hits me square in the chest. Clay makes it all the worse by waving a hand like I didn’t just go psycho Hulk on his ass. “Hey, babe.”

“Oh my God, Clay!” I rush over to him. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were a stranger or one of those guys I messed with during my cheater-catching phase!”

“S’all right, babe,” he says again, still struggling to breathe. “Really. I’ll probably barely even bruise.”

“I was caught off guard!” I exclaim, my chest tight from the remnants of adrenaline that are still rolling around in my veins. “And I thought I was supposed to call you! What are you even doing here?”

“Because I needed to see you. It’s safe to say I’ve been catching you off guard a lot lately, huh?” Clay manages, his voice still a little gruff. “Like when I told you I loved you last night. Caught you off guard,” he says then, right in front of Sheriff Peeler.

My eyes widen, and Pete whistles, turning away on his heel but not leaving.

His ass is just as nosy as the rest of this town.

A normal person would dismiss themselves from the conversation now that there’s no need for the law anymore, but not Pete.

He’s got to get the whole scoop so he can get the story right for all of his gossip cronies.

“Clay, I…” I pause, completely out of my depth and unsure of what to say. Being vulnerable with my words isn’t my strong suit. Has never been my strong suit. I blame my mother for that.

“Don’t worry, Jose,” Clay says, a warm smile on his lips as he moves closer to me. “I know you love me.”

“You do?” I look into Clay’s sweet eyes and fall head over feet into his smile.

“Oh yeah, babe. I’m afraid of a lot of things, but you not loving me back isn’t one of them.

” He reaches out for my hand and holds it in his, rubbing at the skin with the pad of his thumb.

It’s a simple touch, but the effect is electric.

“I want to be official, Josie. Me and you. A real live couple. Two people in it together with the goal of staying together.”

“I…I want that too,” I admit. Everything is better with Clay.

“Well, all right, then,” Pete finally says, tipping his hat. “You all let me know if you have any real needs for police assistance.”

I shake my head as he leaves, and Clay pulls me into a hug so tight I can hardly breathe. “I’m sorry I scared you. And that I’m always embarrassing you. And that I haven’t convinced you it’s safe to tell me you love me yet.”

I roll my eyes.

“But I want to be official, and I want to do it in a way where we have a toothbrush at each other’s places.”

I snort. “You want a toothbrush at Grandma Rose’s house?”

He nods.

“She’s my grandma , Clay.”

“Yeah, doll. How do you think she got that moniker? It wasn’t by following in the Virgin Mary’s footsteps.”

I cover my eyes in mortification. “Good grief.”

“Don’t blush, baby. It’s true. Your grandma is no fool. She knows what goes on between a man and a woman, and she knows you’re no kid anymore. I want a toothbrush there. And I want you to have one at my place too. Fair’s fair.”

“What’s with the urgency? You had to accost me as I was leaving work to tell me this?”

“Uh, yeah. Because time’s always ticking, and every second I spend not telling you what you mean to me is a second I don’t want to spend.”

My throat feels thick, but I force the truth through it anyway. He deserves to know, and I deserve to let myself feel it.

“I…I do love you, Clay. I love you so much it scares me.”

“That’s an oxymoron, baby,” he says with the kind of smile I feel all the way to my toes. “I promise, if you let me love you the way I want to love you, you don’t have anything to be afraid of.”

I nod, just once. It’s all I manage before he swoops in and scoops me up into his arms, swinging me around and sealing his lips to mine.

It’s everything I’ve dreamed of and beyond, and I don’t know if I even saw it coming. I love Clay Harris all the way into my bones. I love Clay Harris in a way that doesn’t stop. Ever.

His excitement is contagious as he sets me down and pulls out two plastic-wrapped toothbrushes.

“You already have the damn toothbrushes?” I ask, laughter vibrating my chest.

“Damn straight, babe.” The handsome bastard winks. “Now, let’s go get set up.”

Clay Harris is mine. Officially. And I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so lucky in my life.