Updated: June 18, 2023
Clay
On the long ride back to the Gracie Hotel, Aubrey was curled up and fast asleep in the front seat of the truck. I covered her with a flannel jacket I kept flung in the backseat.
My mind was wandering, all the information I knew about her currently, was in my opinion just the tip of the iceberg. Not that any of it deterred me from the longing to dive headfirst into her life despite how shark filled the waters could be.
She reached out for my hand in her sleep, and I held it, her skin was soft and delicate, her fingers slim, even her hands were pretty. It dawned on me she wore no jewelry, with the exception of the strand of pearls she was wearing last night.
It gave me an idea, I hadn’t bought jewelry for a woman since the devil was a child. I wondered if she would let me take her shopping in Charleston the next day. I thought to buy her something before she left to remind her of me, of us and this weekend.
She woke suddenly, disoriented, but let out a contented sigh when she realized where she was and who she was with.
“Oh Clay, I’m so sorry I fell asleep on you, how rude.” She whispered sitting up and straightening her hair and clothing. “Goodness I ate so much today, I think I grew a third ass cheek,” she declared.
I laughed happily, “More for me to love up on, Sugar,” I reached for her hand again to hold. She sighed with satisfaction.
“This was a beautiful day, thank you so much Clay, I really had a good time.” She yawned quietly.
“I’m pleased as punch, I want there to be many, many more days like this.” And I meant it.
I pulled into the valet stand and tossed the attendants my keys. I helped her out of the truck and took the bags up with us. This time we had the elevator to ourselves, I dropped the belongings and did what I craved to do the night before, backed her up to the wall of the car and kissed her like my life depended on it. My mouth watered with the taste of her, her kiss was sublime and together we were predatory. Her arms circled around my back pulling me even closer, She opened her legs slightly to rub up against my erection.
“You know what oysters do to a girl,” she teased lustfully.
I laughed and kissed her again, “I’m countin’ on that very thing, Sugar,”
The bell rang for the twelfth floor, and I begrudgingly pulled away from her. I grabbed up our boat bags and walked behind her to the room.
This time I went slow, undressing her and she I. Soothing touches, soft kisses, building up to a crescendo. I didn’t want this to play out like a stag movie, I sought to make love to her, truly make love, romantic, tender, and gentle.
I held her close to me, kissing her face and neck, my hands caressing her body reverently. Her face cupped in my hands, I whispered between my kisses how deep my feelings were, how attractive she was to me and that I strongly desired a future with her beside me.
Never had this happened to me, the lovemaking was soul altering. I felt her inside me as extremely as I could reach into her. She whispered my name, she cried out with pleasure and release and buried her head in my neck telling me breathlessly she wished she could sleep beside me all the remaining nights of her life.
I held her hand and laced my fingers between hers.
“You and me, from now on,” I vowed. I held her while we fell asleep.
We woke early the next morning and quickly showered and changed. This our last day together and neither one of us wanted to waste a minute of daylight. We drove up to Charleston for sightseeing and touristy activities.
We ate breakfast at a boutique café, hitched onto the back of a walking tour of historic landmarks and leisurely shopped through antique stores and tiny retail shops on King Street.
I left her alone for a bit as she browsed through a book store and I slipped into a nearby jewelry store. It didn’t take me long to find items which spoke to me. A pair of diamond stud earrings and a stack ring, a white gold stack of five thin bands embedded with alternate set Tanzanite stones. Ingeniously I measured her ring finger with the drawstring from my sweatpants while she slept last night. The clerk wrapped everything up for me and I paid quickly to catch up with Aubrey.
I found her three stores down the street on a bench talking on her phone, she smiled as she watched me approach, she finished up with her caller.
“Did you find something you wanted?” She asked happily, holding two small shopping bags of her own, the larger of them from the bookstore.
I beamed as she stood in front of me, I closed the space between us, running my fingers into her hair, drawing her close. I stared down into her eyes, “Sugar, I found the only thing I will ever want,” and I kissed her. Forgetting outright we were in full view of the public. A public who recognized me due to current events.
We were interrupted often by passersby’s shouting out congratulations and accolades. My phone had been blowing up with media interview requests I had been avoiding and ignoring since the verdict. I had long since silenced the ring. Forcing the calls to my office for consideration. There was always tomorrow to field their frenzy.
“Hey Clayton, good job!” roared a local from his vehicle window.
“Thank you kindly, Mr. Hoover,” said two elderly ladies strolling past us.
“Mr. Clayton, can we get a selfie with y’all?” asked a few teenagers.
Aubrey laughed and held our bags while I posed for pictures and shook hands.
I steered us into one of Charleston’s cobblestoned alley’s to a small restaurant for lunch. I wanted to be seated in a back booth to avoid more recognition. It wasn’t from a lack of pride in walking with her, I rather not share our private time together.
She looked so lovely, in a short cotton dress, her skin sun kissed from the day before. The periwinkle color of her clothing brought out the glimmer of violet from her eyes. I had secretly taken pictures of her both on the boat yesterday and throughout our morning.
We sat and reviewed our menus when I reached across the table for her right hand.
She peeked over the menu at me and smiled. Our server came to the table and took our order.
I was nervous and jittery, I was trying to figure out a way to present her with the jewelry without fucking it up or changing the mood of our day.
“Spill it Clay, you have ants in your pants,” she teased, her eyebrows raised with inquiry.
I reached into the small bag and took out the two gift boxes.
“I suck at this, Aubrey. I have never been this man. So please bear with me. I bought you a few gifts. Things I want you to have from me. To remember me, us, and this weekend. I don’t know what the future holds for us, but before we take another step, this has to happen,” I slid the wrapped boxes across the table to her.
She froze, looking up at me wide-eyed. “Clay, I…I don’t know what to say,” she whispered.
“Open them, Sugar,” I urged, almost begging her to put me out of my misery. It dawned on me suddenly it could backfire on me, and I wasn’t sure of an exit strategy.
She opened the earrings first by chance, she gasped with surprise.
“Clay!” she shrieked, “What in the world were you thinking?” but her eyes were alight, and she flushed with excitement. “They are just stunning, crazy man,” she moved quickly to affix them to her ears.
“Thank you so much, I love them,” she said humbly, checking her reflection in her phone camera. She slid to get out of the booth to come hug me when I stopped her.
“Not yet, open the next one,” I urged.
She sat back down and slowly unwrapped the remaining box. When she opened it, tears filled her eyes, those beautiful eyes now enlarged by the crystal-like tears hanging at her lash line.
She couldn’t speak–I reached for the box and took the ring out, I placed it on her right-hand ring finger,
“This is a vow, Sugar. Assurance I will do everything within my power to spend my remaining life with you. I want to love you, worship, and adore you. Please wear this for me until the day I can put one on your other hand?” Emotion was closing up my throat, who was I now? She unlocked something I denied and deprived inside me, and I couldn’t keep up with the rising tide.
Her tears fell now, raindrops from her eyes. She held onto my hand and reached for a napkin to wipe them. She slid out of the booth, and I stood to grab her up into my arms.
“Say something Aubrey or I might just topple over dead from anxiety.” I teased.
“Yes, of course yes. It’s so beautiful and you didn’t have to do this, I’m not accustomed to this treatment and I’m afraid to wake up and all this was a dream.” I held her close and kissed her gently.
“It feels like that very thing, Sugar, a beautiful dream, but I’m having it too and I won’t let you wake up. “You and me, going forward,” I kissed her, and we took our seats as our lunch arrived.
Aubrey
We got back to the hotel around five in the evening. We stopped in the lobby bar of our first meeting for a cocktail. This time we took a cozy corner near a fireplace.
“I have a crazy idea,” he leaned closer to me. His hand on my calf.
“Let’s hear it Counselor,” I sighed, sadness crept over me with the passing of the time.
I looked at his face, so good-looking with his blue eyes gleaming in the firelight, his short grey hair and neat goatee. His bottom lip soft and full, his smile gentle and humble.
“Forget the bubble bath, let’s go pack up our rooms and get the fuck out of this hotel and away from all these people. I live about an hour from here in Saint George and haven’t seen my house in seven weeks. We can have supper on the way and spend the night in my bed. You can walk around buck ass naked, or I’ll make love to you all night long wrapped in blankets in front of my fireplace. I can drive you to the air field in the morning. We would be closer from my house anyway.”
He tilted my chin to kiss me, he was desperate to stop the clock as well. His idea was a good one, the crowds were pressing him, he was dodging questions and accolades and wanted to get out of Beaufort.
We managed to be checked out and have his truck packed and on the road in an hour. My phone was starting to annoy me with texts and missed calls and I knew reality was hunting me. I sat beside him in the car and flipped through the notifications to be sure I had no fires to put out.
“The real world is beckoning, isn’t it Sugar?” he spoke softly with remorse heavy in his tone.
I sighed and threw the phone into my open handbag,
“It is baby, it sure enough is…” my voice cracked. How could I leave? Finally I found the one, years of kissing frogs and here beside me, sat a king.
“I’d give anything right this moment to make it easy and simple,” he replied, interrupting my similar thoughts. I laughed softly and reached for his hand.
“Then it wouldn’t be worth it Clay, we’re gonna do every minute of this uphill and barefoot, I don’t care how hard it will be, I’m not giving up….Let’s talk about something else,” I sat up in my seat and turned to face his handsome profile, “Tell me about your son,” I asked, I reached for my bottle of water and took a sip.
His mood lightened immediately, “You want to talk about ‘Tate the Great’?”
“Tate? What a perfect name,” I said.
“Nathaniel James, named after my Daddy, and he’s a great kid. Currently spending his second-year undergrad at USC,” he stated proudly.
“Ah, he’s a Gamecock, how did that feel for an alumnus Clemson Tiger?”
Clay laughed and shook his head, “Ain’t no thing, he’s not an athlete, he’s all about the books, always has been. Technically, I’m a Game Cock as well, I graduated law school from University of South Carolina, I don’t brag about it, I bleed Clemson orange.” He puffed proudly.
I laughed with him, “Baby, calling you a game cock is about as ironic as you can be,”
Clay chuckled modestly and turned to grin at me, as he continued to talk about his only child.
“About Tate, he’s a quiet, thoughtful boy, boy–He’s a man now I reckon.” His voice fell off.
“Nathaniel, not Nate for short?” I asked puzzled.
Clay shook his head, “My father was referred to as Tate for short, he had a little brother who couldn’t say Nathaniel or Nate, and he was deemed Tate from then on. So, we decided to use the same shortened version, for our boy.” He explained.
“It’s so sweet how proud you are of him,” I said.
“I am proud of him, he wants nothing to do with the law, not like myself or my father before me, but he has the more critical thinking process. He’d be more successful than either of us. His mind is quiet, he can evaluate information with patience. Although he’s not a big fan of his Momma at the moment. When it comes to her there is no slack. He has a hard time processing emotional decisions, he is a purely logical kid. And her behavior to him defies logic.”
I sat back and took a breath, “Wow what do you think he’ll think of us,” I wondered aloud.
Clay laughed and shrugged his shoulders, “I think he’ll fall in love with you as quickly as I have, how could he not?” He beamed at me and blew me a kiss.
“I hope you’re right, we’re nothing but emotional decisions currently,” I murmured.
“Is that right, Aubrey? We’re two intelligent adults, you think we’re acting or rationalizing like emotional kids?” He asked with concern.
“Clayton Hoover, are you cross examining me? It sounds as if you are, you sexy bastard.” I grinned wickedly.
Clay laughed and blushed slightly. “And you think I’m sexy when I cross examine?”
“Do I think you’re sexy? Baby, in court you have what us girls call BDE, Big Dick Energy and Sweet Mother of God it’s not false advertising.” I declared happily.
“BDE? I’ve never heard such nonsense.” He laughed modestly.
“I do think I have teeth marks on my TV remote from watching you methodically take Nadler apart on the stand, and your closing argument was girl porn for me. I’m unapologetically cerebral and you are the paradigm. I had brain-gasms watching you in court.”
Clay howled with laughter, “Woman! I gave you brain-gasms? This is some shit right here, you yanking my chain. What you’re claiming is there’s truth to the rumor a woman gets turned on between her ears first, am I wrong?”
“I don’t speak for the sisterhood, but for me, absolutely. I watched that trial and wanted to perform unspeakable, unclean, nasty things with you.” I teased and flirted wildly. He looked over at me, amazed and modest.
“No objection here, Ma’am.” He grinned, his voice low and hungry. I cleared my throat and went back to discussing Tate.
“What is he majoring in?” I asked.
Clay was still smiling to himself and feeling some kind of way about the accolade I had showered on him. He switched gears quickly back to proud Papa.
“His ultimate goal is to be a cancer researcher, losing my Dad and watching how the disease ravaged his body, flipped a switch in that boy. Not to mention the stories he’s heard about my baby sister succumbing to childhood leukemia. He’s passionate about being the man who singlehandedly eradicates the disease, and I’ll bet my paycheck he’s gonna come close if not accomplish that goal.” Clay puffed with pride.
He switched topics again suddenly, “Are you ready for supper, Sugar? We’re comin’ up on an old family-owned diner close to my house. Greatest meatloaf in the state, and mashed potatoes which will change your religious affiliation. And don’t get me started on the pie..”
“That sounds perfect, yes.” I nodded my head dramatically.
“I do adore your appetites, Sugar. Life, sex, and finger licking food.”
“Well it all shows on my ass which is close to being granted its own area code if I stay down here another week.” I said half tongue in cheek.
“Mmmm woman if wishing made it so, go on and double its size, that ass is prettier than a Tybee island sunset,” he grinned.
He pulled into the parking lot of Dotty’s Diner, it seemed almost empty. A small homey restaurant with a long vintage style counter lined with stools, promising the best made ice cream sundaes of a generation. Small booths lined the wall, and the atmosphere was country and inviting. There were two couples in the booths scattered through the restaurant. Clay waved in greeting to the other diners, who broke out into applause when they saw him. He humbly bowed.
“Clayton Hoover! “Bout time you made your way home boy,” an older plump woman with a ruffled apron made egress from behind the counter to embrace him. “Clayton we all so proud, we had y’all on the TV’s up in here for weeks, cheering your every word, and some of Mr. Jimmy Lee’s” she chuckled and hugged him tight, when she noticed me,
“Well who do we have here?” She grinned, “Aren’t you a pretty little thing, you not from around here are you dahling?” She drawled sweetly.
“Miss Dotty, it’s my delight to introduce y’all to Miss Aubrey Teller, Sugar this is Miss Dotty Weathers, her husband Roy is back behind the grill in the kitchen.”
I held my hand out to shake hers when she brought me in for a hug of my own.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Aubrey, we been hearing all about y’all the last two days, the news has traveled from Beaufort and Charleston and the church pigeons were cooing with the confirmation of your existence today.” She patted my back. “Glad to have you here in Saint George,”
Clay and I dropped our heads in defeat– Dotty led us over to a booth and put down menus for us.
“Hey Clayton, well done my boy,” Roy Weathers yelled out from the pick-up window in the kitchen.
“Thank you Sir, much obliged.” I adored the way his accent thickened around his people.
Miss Dottie came back to the table with glasses of ice-cold lemonade and a basket of warm biscuits with whipped honey butter.
“Y’all want the special or still mullin’ it over? “she asked us.
Clay handed her back the menus and said, “Yes ma’am, two Sunday meatloaf specials with mashed and extra gravy for me.”
He reached across the table for my hands. He turned over my right hand to look at the ring.
“It fits perfect,” he whispered, “Sure you like it Sugar?” he asked sweetly.
“Yes, I love it and by the way, how did you know my ring size?” I asked, suddenly it occurred to me it did fit perfectly.
Clay laughed and sat back in the booth. “I used the drawstring on my sweat pants to measure it while you was asleep,”
I laughed with him, “That’s impressive,” I replied, buttering half of my homemade biscuit. Roy Weathers brought us our plates and warned us they were hot,
“Ma’am, I’m Roy Weathers, damn happy to make your acquaintance, he held out his hand to shake mine.
I shook his calloused hand and replied, “Aubrey, Aubrey Teller, my pleasure Mr. Roy.”
Roy blushed and backed away from us to return to his kitchen. “Y’all enjoy your supper and save some room for pie now.” He ordered.
The food was fantastic, and I could only finish half of it, the portions were massive. And a part of me did want some pie. We continued our conversation about Tate from the car. Clay told me his son lived off campus in a small apartment in Columbia with his new girlfriend. It was the first time his son had dated someone seriously and he was happy to see the boy with a smile on his face.
When we pushed back from our plates, stuffed like teddy bears, Miss Dotty appeared with fresh brewed coffee and two pieces of warm homemade peach pie with a scoop of cinnamon vanilla ice cream. I was moved to tears with how incredible it smelled and tasted.
We finished up and lingered over our coffee, chatting, and staring into each other’s eyes.
“Want anything else, Sugar?” he asked, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.
“I can’t put another thing in my mouth,” I bemoaned.
Clay snorted, “Well I hope that’s not true,”
I laughed and tossed my crumpled napkin at him, “Degenerate,” I whispered.
Clay stood and held his hand out for me, and we readied to leave.
He left the cash on the table and waved at Dotty and Roy, “Thank y’all have a good night now.”
“Y’all come back now, Y’hear,” they shouted in unison.
Clay
The house was musty from being shut up for weeks. I quickly went about opening some windows to let the air circulate. I swiftly checked in my bedroom to be sure it wasn’t a frat house mess. Luckily my housekeeper had been there recently, and my bed was made with fresh sheets. `
I brought all my luggage in and dumped it into the spare room Tate used when he was visiting. I carried Aubrey’s overnight bag in and put it in my bedroom. She wanted to get changed and I helped her undress. I couldn’t stop touching her and kissing her and I didn’t want to rush.
“Clay,” she whispered between kisses. “Let’s digest a little bit first, I’m still so full I think I’ll explode if you lay on top of me,”
“That is a good idea,” I snickered, kissing her again.
She changed into soft yoga pants and stole one of my Clemson t-shirts to wear on top.
I almost tackled her onto the bed, she looked so sexy and perfect, and she was in my bedroom, where I hadn’t brought a woman since I started living here. I was glad too, I wanted it to be Aubrey who christened my bed and my house with her presence and irresistible scent.
I went to start a fire in the living room hearth, I threw blankets and pillows off the sofa in front of it, the house filled with the smell of fragrant apple wood. She came into the room after freshening up in the bathroom, I had changed into flannel pj pants and a sweatshirt and was sitting on the floor with my back to the sofa.
“Sugar, come sit with me, we have some planning to do.”
She sat up against me. I wrapped my arms around the front of her and kissed her neck.
“So, what do we do after tomorrow?” I asked.
She turned in my arms to look at me, the room was magical and romantic with just the firelight keeping us warm and snug.
“Clay this is going to take serious planning. Our jobs and our schedules are grueling. Phone calls, texts and FaceTime will work for only so long. We have to make a commitment to let’s say, twice a month, every other weekend one of us travels to the other. Can that work?” she asked.
Without my calendar in front of me, I couldn’t definitively say, but I was willing to march into my office tomorrow and make it work.
“That would mean, I’m next right? You’ve been here, so my turn to travel to New Jersey weekend after next?”
“Yes,” she said with anticipation.
“Done,” I said with conviction “How do I do it? Commercial into Philly and drive down or is there a quicker way?”
“I flew down here on a private jet, courtesy of the magazine assignment. I’ll return directly into Cape May Airport which is about fifteen minutes from my house. For you, if you can fly into Atlantic City, that’s about a forty-five-minute ride to me.”
“That’s no issue. My assistant lives for shit like this, I’ll put her to work first thing tomorrow booking these weekends and my rental cars. Now you, how far along are you on the St. Helena property?”
“All the paperwork was filed with the orphans court, I have my short certificates to manage the property. First it has to undergo an environmental assessment, which has started. The farm hasn’t been occupied for years and the house is sturdy, but they want a report. It’s very possible I may have to come back here sooner. I’ll know more when I get back home tomorrow and catch up with all my phone calls and emails.
“Aubrey, twice a month isn’t enough time together. It’s gonna suck.” I whispered with defeat.
“Clay let’s see how it goes the first month. If it doesn’t work, we’ll try something else. I can work remotely, and I will extend my time with you if I can find a space for a small office. What’s your court schedule look like? You still have loose ends with the Nadler case I’m sure, but what’s the upcoming docket bringing?”
“Without the benefit of actually looking I’m sure I’m busier than a one-armed paper hanger. But I have a team and a workaholic can learn to delegate. I have another spare room here in the house, I will move all the shit stored in there and make an office for you. There is plenty of cell coverage and Wi-Fi here to work.”
Her reaction was sad, with her silence she expressed the fear our separation was going to work against us. We had these full and frenetic lives before we found a bubble to escape into together. Would fate be this cruel to us? Give us only these three days together? Something inside me erupted, I would not let this woman slip from my fingers.
I took her face into my hands,
“Listen carefully to me, forget everything you know about me and my propensity to be absorbed by my job. I had no reason, no inspiration to be anything else but working. Nothing to come home to which gave me joy. Now I do. I have you and if you think I’ll make the same stupid mistakes I made with my marriage, you are sadly mistaken. I’m in love with you Aubrey Teller, I know it’s crazy and fast and we know literally nothing about each other, but I know this, and I will move heaven and fucking earth to be with you and I’ll swear it to anyone who asks.”
I kissed her, I kissed her with more passion and yearning than I’ve ever experienced in my life. I wanted to absorb her into my body to carry her with me everywhere. I laid her back onto the blankets and took her clothes off, she helped me out of mine. She groaned and sighed, and her hands roamed my body.
“Clay, make love to me please?” she whispered into my ear, her voice low and lusty.
I did, I made love to her as if we were the last two people on earth, and it felt that way, it didn’t escape me this could be the last time, we might never see each other again and I wanted it to last a long time.
I entered her slowly, I moaned with the ecstasy of feeling her around me, this was coming home for me, being inside her as if she were made for me alone. Finally, a sexual, sensual woman beneath me. One who ached for me, craved me and with reckless abandon, desire raged through her and gleamed from her eyes.
“More, baby,” she urged, her hands ran down my back to my ass pulling me deeper inside her. “Look at me Clay, in my eyes while you fuck me,” she growled. I did, I stared into her as my cock pumped in and out of her flawless pussy.
“Clay, I’m in love with you and I will set the South on fire to get back to you, “ she whispered between delicious grunts from my movements.
“Sugar, I’m in love with you, madly…” I stared into her eyes, our bodies joined, our souls interlocked.
The rhythm picked up, a runaway train swept us onto it, our orgasms racing toward us, I almost pulled my back out giving her every inch of my manhood and I lost all control and came so ferociously, I was sure I was gonna pull out a broken stump where my dick used to be.
“Sweet Jesus, Aubrey!!” I exhaled, leaning back down to kiss her again.
We sat at my kitchen table sipping hot chocolate as we swapped phone numbers, home and work addresses, email addresses and social media information, alternate contacts and the names and numbers of our assistants. We went over the dates again, making notes in our phones to double check when we got to our offices.
One month was plotted out, we planned times for zoom calls and facetimes. We discussed the best times for phone calls, and texts were unlimited. We shared photos from our phones taken of each other and together from the weekend. We made promises– no longer than twenty-four hours without contact, unless one of us was dead. No secrets, no lies, no excuses. No longer than two weeks without seeing each other, even if it meant one of us made the trip twice.
It was getting late, we tried to fight sleep, begging the moon for one more hour and to rob a minute from dawn. I took her to my bed, removing her clothes again and ran my hands slowly over her entire body, mapping it for my memory. My mouth kissed all her curves and valleys, I held her close as I took her one more time, quietly and slowly, shuddering with release again.
We fell asleep entangled together each of us mouthing the prayer, please God don’t let this be the end– but merely the beginning.
Aubrey
I was up first, and I quietly tiptoed around the house figuring out how to make a pot of coffee. I fixed our cups and brought them back into the bedroom. He was still asleep on his stomach and hugging my pillow.
I took his picture, his naked back and strong arms draped sensually on his side of the bed. His face was partially hidden by the pillow but enough to be seen. He was reaching for me in his sleep, his hand roving the space beside him unconsciously, it broke my heart. I put the cups on the side table, and I slid back in next to him,
“I’m here baby,” I whispered, he groaned and pulled me into his arms. Wrapping me up against him. “Don’t go, I’ll pay anything to keep you here, get my checkbook,” he murmured, still partially asleep. I kissed his forehead gently,
“If wishing made it so, my love. I brought you coffee,”
“Woman, I’ve decided you need to marry me that’s all there is to it.” He chuckled. I laughed and got out of bed bringing my coffee into the bathroom with me.
“You’ll need to ask me Clayton Hoover and that request will accompany an obnoxiously large diamond so hold on to that checkbook.”
“You want some company in that shower, Sugar?” he yawned, stretching his body, “And don’t you fret, I’ll make sure it’s the biggest diamond you have ever seen, I’ll even hire a guy to walk around holding your hand up from the weight.” He reached for his coffee cup and took a long sip, before joining me in the shower.
We drove to the private aviation field in silence. I gazed over at him, my eyes hungry, he was dressed in a dark colored suit all buttoned up and professional again, similar to the night I stripped him in my suite.
“Sugar, Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?” he whispered, sipping from his coffee travel mug.
“I’m admiring how attractive you are–looking all prosecutorial and intimidating. I could fuck you senseless right now.” I teased–but only partially.
“Don’t tempt me, Bree, I will pull this truck over and take you for a roll through one of these cow pastures in a hot second.” His eyes roamed my body and he groaned under his breath, “Delicious girl,”
I laughed, “Wow, you called me Bree, you haven’t done that at all this weekend. It sounds so cute with your accent.”
“Yeah, I don’t rightly know why I did that, your full name is so pretty, seems a crime to shorten it like that, I can’t settle on one name for you. I like all of them. What nickname did your Daddy have for you?” he asked suddenly.
I smiled, the tears came quickly to my eyes. “Puddin’ Pop” I said quietly.
He smiled over at me, “Southern Gentlemen when they love their women, never fails, we don’t use a God given name if we don’t have to.” His eyes filled with tears as well.
“Fuck I hate this, I can’t even imagine how much my life has changed since happy hour on Friday night. You more lethal than a coastal hurricane.” He shook his head in disbelief.
“I know, it’s lousy. But we’re so busy, the time will fly and before you know it you’ll be in my bed, smelling the sweet aroma of the Atlantic Ocean coming into my windows and the sounds of seagulls singing in the morning.”
“You love it there don’t you Sugar?” he asked sadly.
“I do baby, I really do, but it remains to be seen how much I’ll love it there without you beside me, I may show up on your porch in three days with all my belongings.”
Clay’s head snapped around to face me, and his smile was huge.
“Sugar if that happens, I’ll take you to the judge that day and make you my wife.”
I laughed happily, I believed him.
“Oh no Counselor, don’t forget you have to ask me, down on one knee and one, obnoxious cocktail table sized diamond with big ole baguettes, I want these southern girls to combust with envy.”
“You have yourself a deal, little Yankee girl,” he pretended to spit in his hand and held it out to me to shake on it.
The flight crew grabbed my bags from the back of the pickup, and I handed my documents to the pilot. Clay walked me to the plane steps and kissed me, his eyes welling with tears.
“The second, the very moment you land, you will text me, and don’t for the love of God, forget about me,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.
I held him close to me and kissed him again, “Never, it’s impossible. Thank you Clay for a beautiful weekend. I’ll holla at you soon,” I laughed. He touched my cheek and stole another soft tender kiss before I ran up the plane stairs and found my seat.
He stayed there and watched us taxi and take off, I cried the entire trip home and was sure he was watching me and doing the very same.