Page 3 of When I Should’ve Stayed (Red Bridge #2)
Clay
Josie bows her head in prayer in the pew to my left, her Grandma Rose at her side.
She looks beautiful as always, but this morning, the long sleeves of her baby-blue dress cover the tattoo sleeve on her right arm.
Last night was the first time I found myself studying it up close, and now, they’re etched in my mind.
Even with them covered, I can still perfectly imagine the colorful mix of the monarch butterfly, fading sunset, Venus flytrap, and female superhero with a high red ponytail and fiery eyes that are engraved into her skin.
And the thought of all of that hiding away under there, while she sits demurely in a pretty dress next to her sweet grandmother, makes me smile.
I’m not usually much of a churchgoer myself, but I’ve seen her coming out of here enough on my drive to Molene to pick up kegs to know this is where I’d find her on a Sunday morning.
And this Sunday morning, in particular, I had to find her. If I concentrate hard enough, I can still taste a hint of her on my lips from last night’s kiss.
Thankfully, everyone in town is eager enough for me to join in on the worship session to let the idiosyncrasy of my presence go, and I blend in like butter into hot potatoes.
I bow my head too, but not without sneaking in a lingering look at Josie’s serene face. Her features are delicate in contrast to her strong personality, and her wild curls are clipped up at the back of her head to keep them out of her eyes.
“O Lord, do not withdraw from us your Word and Spirit, but grant us a strong faith, patience, and steadfastness in all suffering and adversity. Help and sustain us, your children, and deliver us from opposition, ridicule, and tyranny. We pray this Sunday in particular for our great and loving friends, the Grift Family, as they prepare to welcome a new member of their precious family and ours, sweet baby Ginny, who we ask to come safely and prosperously in your loving hands and for a smooth and seamless delivery for Kate,” Reverend Bob prays from his spot on the stage.
“As always, we thank you for your gifts and opportunities and for this beautiful community we call home before we’re called home to you. Amen.”
“Amen,” we all recite in various volumes and cadences, lifting our heads and opening our eyes as Reverend Bob dismisses the whole of the congregation with wide arms and a warm smile.
“See you here next time,” he says simply as people rise and begin to file out. I scour the crowd, looking around heads and bodies and leaning from left to right to follow the head of platinum curls as Josie makes her way out of the pew with her grandma and walks toward the back of the church.
Betty Bagley pauses to talk to someone in front of me, holding me up, and I watch somewhat helplessly as Josie and her grandma get closer and closer to the exit, Melba Danser chatting at their ears.
Betty is nearly a million years old and feeble of body, and I can’t shove her out of the way, so I do my best to be patient even as my heart starts to race when Josie’s head disappears out the front door.
“Excuse me,” I try, but without both of her hearing aids in, Betty can’t hear me.
Grandma Rose waves at someone and steps outside, and a desperation builds that I can’t control.
One hand to the back of the pew, I launch over it like a log in the woods and take off at a run up the aisle. Sheriff Pete laughs, and Reverend Bob hollers a chide, but I’m out the door and chasing after curly blond hair before either one truly registers.
Halfway through the parking lot is where I find her, and I slide to a stop in the gravel as the traction of my boots gives out with the immediate change in speed.
“Jesus Christ, Clay!” Josie yells, startled by my quick entrance and hand at her elbow.
“Josie, we’re in the church parking lot, for crying out loud!” Grandma Rose scolds. “How about we save the crass use of Our Savior’s name for another time.”
“He scared me!” Josie protests, making Grandma’s blue eyes roll beneath the set of her perfect silver curls.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize immediately and then turn to Grandma Rose. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”
Grandma Rose smirks, and a crowd of other people gathers on the steps of the church, watching and pointing in our direction.
Josie glances around, her brows drawing together and her cheeks turning pink when she sees the sheriff, the mayor, Betty Bagley, Old Lady Mouser, and the Hanson brothers all watching us avidly.
Harold Metcalf is watching, too, but given that he’s Josie’s boss, he’s at least trying to be secretive about it.
His wife, however, peers around him unabashedly.
Josie bugs out her eyes, the action a demand. “Just what exactly do you need that couldn’t wait ?”
I drop down to a knee and take her hand in mine, and I hear a collective gasp behind her.
“Clay, what are you doing ?” Her green eyes threaten to fill the entire space of her face, and Grandma Rose’s tiny head spins around to face us like a crane.
“Proposing, of course.”
Grandma Rose swallows a guffaw, and Josie yanks her hand out of mine like it’s on fire. “Excuse me?”
“I’m proposing,” I say again, doubling down, my smile only growing as she squirms. I know it’s probably embarrassing, but it’s also memorable. And Josie Ellis’s mind is one place I’m determined to be.
“Clay, I don’t even… We don’t even…” She trips over her words. “I hardly even know you.”
“I know, doll. That’s why I’m proposing…” I pause, letting the silence linger just long enough to make her squirm a little more. “A date. A first date. Just the two of us, so we can get to know each other beyond the taste of each other’s tongues.”
Pink renews in her cheeks, even deeper this time, and she clenches her hands into fists as her grandma devolves into laughter beside her. At least I’ve managed to amuse one of the Ellis women.
Not the right one, of course, but still, a win is a win.
“Stand up. Right now,” Josie grits out, grabbing me by the collar of my shirt and physically forcing the command for good measure.
“I’m not leaving until you say yes,” I promise straightaway, cutting off her urge to punish me for the stunt right at the knees. “I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t do anything else until you agree.”
Josie sighs. “My God, men are so pathetic.”
“We are.” I nod without shame. “We’re dogs and we’re weak and we’re desperate.”
She narrows her eyes. “Clay.”
“Josie. Say yes. You know you want to. You’re too curious, too invested in the plot.”
“Plot?” Her nose crinkles up in the most adorable fucking way. “What plot?”
“Of our story.”
“We don’t have a story, Clay.”
“Not yet,” I agree. “Not yet.”
“Clay…”
“If you don’t say yes to this poor fella and put him out of his misery,” Grandma Rose edges in, “I will.”
“Grandma!” Josie exclaims, and I just stand there, smiling like the fool I am over this woman.
“Josie, he’s got the whole dang town watchin’ him,” Grandma Rose adds. “And all he’s looked at is you. Give the poor schlep a date.”
Josie clenches her teeth and lets out a deep sigh before turning to me, her eyes challenging. “Fine. One date. On Saturday. I have work, and I’ll need the week to run a background check on you.”
She needs to run a background check on me. Is it too soon to be in love with this woman?
I grin. “Saturday it is.”
It doesn’t matter that I have to wait a week or that her grandma basically peer-pressured her into it. I have an official date with Josie Ellis, and just like before…
A win is a win.