the village, but there’s nothing he can’t fix. It’s taken a load off of Samson.”
“Darby’s studying for her master’s degree online, in social work. She wants to help kids like herself who grew up in the foster-care system,” Nick shot back, his tone a little bit more aggressive than proud.
“Clay is helping his sister raise her two children while they care for an ailing elderly aunt,” I retorted as Clay began to look distinctly uncomfortable under my “praise.”
“Darby takes in retired rescue dogs. She’s adopted two German shepherds through a state shelter program,” Nick said.
Damn it. That did make me like her a little more.
“OK, I think it’s time to get out of firing range,” Clay said, pulling me toward the dance floor. “Darby, it was nice to meet your resume.”
She snickered and waved as Nick glowered at us.
“So, what was that?” Clay asked, spinning me around and slipping his hand to my waist. He stared over my shoulder to where Nick and Darby were chatting companionably. I gritted my teeth and stepped back, so Clay would have to turn me away from them. “Were you two dating or something?”
“No, he’s a friend,” I grumbled. “A friend who is a giant pain in my ass.”
“You want I should get rid of him?” he asked in his best New Jersey accent. “We could make it look like an accident.”
“That’s what I said when I first met him!” I exclaimed as Clay snickered and pulled me closer. My head tilted up, and my forehead brushed the line of his jaw. Seriously, when did God stop giving men jaws like that? I muttered, “But I guess cold-blooded murder is wrong and all that junk.”
Clay’s eyes flickered with some emotion I didn’t quite understand. His smile faltered. And it was as if some invisible mask had been pulled away from his face. He caught himself, it seemed, and lifted the corners of his mouth again. “Well, if you need help burying the body, I’m handy with a shovel.”
I chuckled. “Good to know.”
“So, let’s talk about something more interesting,” he said, sliding his fingers along the bare skin of my shoulders, leaving a little trail of sparks in his wake. “Let’s talk about you.”
“Oh, you must have read a book on how to charm lady wolves,” I said.
“I’m not a proud man,” he said. “There were Cliffs Notes involved.”
God help me, I actually giggled as he swayed me around the floor. The rest of the night was like that. Clay made me feel comfortable, more comfortable than I think I’d ever been with a guy. He kept me talking so much I hardly noticed we were dancing. He was light on his feet and managed to step out of the way if I was on my way to stepping on his toes. He didn’t even break his stride when I tried to lead a time or two, just went with the flow.
I know he noticed when I tried to subtly brush my nose along his collar, but he was too polite to say anything. He smelled like citrus and sage. And I pulled him a little closer, so I could hold that pleasant, distracting scent in my head.
It surprised me when I looked up and realized we were among only a few stragglers left at the party. Everyone but Mo, Cooper, Evie, Buzz, and Nick had headed home. Nick was standing at the bar, drinking a beer, and trying very hard to make it look as if he was talking to Cooper and not watching us. Cooper wasn’t making any pretenses. He was watching Clay like a hawk.
“It’s later than I thought,” I said, laughing and suddenly realizing that my feet were killing me.
“I could give you a ride back home,” Clay offered. On hearing this, Nick and Cooper both stood and not so subtly moved closer to us.
“I appreciate it, but I rode with my mom. And she’s at Cooper’s watching the baby. I need to drive her back tonight. But I’ll walk you to your truck,” I said, frowning at Cooper as we passed on our way to the door.
I slipped into my coat but slipped out of my too-tight shoes, grateful for the soothing, biting cold of the pavement as I walked outside with him. This was the part of the night that I was sort of dreading. So far, Clay had been sort of perfect. And if he was a dud in the kissing department, I was going to be right back to fantasizing about blue eyes and dusky Viking lips. I couldn’t have that.
“Thanks for putting up with all this,” I said, jerking my head toward the disheveled bar and what I’m sure was my brother’s face pressed against the picture window like one of those suction-cup Garfield dolls. “I know I sort of put you through the wringer.”
He grinned. “It’s all right. It was kind of nice to see you out of your element. I had a good time with you tonight, Maggie,” he said, leaning toward me so I had the choice to close the remaining space.
I took a little nerve-bolstering breath and kissed him, nipping at his bottom lip with my teeth. He moaned a little and worked his fingers into my hair, pulling me closer. He tasted like whiskey and cinnamon. It was nice, warm, and sweet and stoked a pleasant little fire in my belly. It wasn’t fireworks and snowflakes, but it was a cozy burn. He leaned back, keeping his arms laced around my waist.
“So,” he said, smiling and tilting his head, “I was thinking we might go to Burney to see a movie this week? It’s a drive, but there’s a new action movie opening up. Bomb squads and terrorists.”
“Well, you know how much I love bomb squads and terrorists,” I said with a little laugh. “How could a girl resist?”
“What if I throw an extra-large bag of Twizzlers into the deal?”
“No, no, no,” I told him. “Twizzlers are fifth- or sixth-date material. You have to start out slowly, with Goobers or Sour Patch Kids.”
Clay chuckled. “I thought presenting a girl with Goobers was tantamount to a proposal.”
“Well, I guess movie candy is governed differently in Canada. Your country’s all peculiar,” I said as he climbed into his truck.
He shrugged. “Yeah, I know, funny bacon, inability to pronounce all the ‘o’ sounds.”
I waved as he started the truck and pulled away. I was still sort of smiling as I came back through the saloon door. And my sister-in-law was making her “trying not to comment” face. She was trying hard to cover it up, fussing with Tupperware containers of leftovers and wiping down the already-clean bar.
“What?” I asked Cooper.
“Damned if I know,” he said, watching her bustle back and forth. “I’m still working on the whole ‘my sister’s a grown-up, and it’s normal for her to date’ thing. Why do you think I’m still drinking?”
I snorted. “Nice.”
“Just to be clear, I don’t like either one of them. It’s in the guy code. ‘Thou shalt despise any man who wants to nail your sister.’ “
“You’re coping well,” I noted.
His lips twitched as he raised the beer bottle to his mouth. “I’m seething on the inside.”
I placed a hand over Mo’s as she swept by with a damp rag. “What is going on, Mo? What’s got you all OCD?”
“Nick,” she said, wincing a little.
I looked around. Nick had disappeared like Wet Wipes on a porn set. “What about him?”
“He left,” she said hesitantly, which was a weird look for Little Miss Resolute Face. “While you were outside. With Clay.”
“Oh,” I said. I realized that meant he probably saw me kissing Clay, all snuggly against the side of Clay’s truck. My stomach felt sort of ripply and cold. “Oh.”
“Sorry!” she exclaimed. “We couldn’t keep him from leaving. I was afraid he would interrupt whatever you had going out there with Clay, but I couldn’t figure out how to keep him away from the door. I thought throwing myself at him and dragging him back inside would send an upsetting mixed message.”
“I think I would be upset by that,” Cooper dead-panned. “The only person I want you throwing yourself at is me.” Mo smiled at him in that gross, lovey-dovey, cartoon-eyes way that didn’t exactly help my icky stomach.
I shuddered. “Look, it’s no big deal. Nick and I, we’re trying to be friends. He knew I was here with a date. It’s not like I got all wound up when he was dancing with Saint Darby, the Animal Rescue Princess.”
“So, you’re OK with this?” Mo asked.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because you called her Saint Darby, the Animal Rescue Princess,” Mo said. “It expresses a certain amount of latent hostility.”
