I don’t correct him. It wouldn’t matter if I tried, because Luke wouldn’t understand something I can hardly put my own thumb on. I haven’t even told Lucy about the stupid brief crush I had on Clayton in high school, before I met my last boyfriend years ago. Having something special with Clayton Davis is beyond words. Never, not once, has anyone shortened my name and it not been like nails on a chalkboard, but the man who was my first crush many years ago lights something inside of me when I hear him rumble that nickname, and I’m in no hurry to lose this feeling. I’ll be dammed if I’m going to explain that to Luke and Lucy, though. The secret is mine and Clayton’s, no one else’s.
Lucy elbows her brother and I decide now would be a good time to escape, but since I can’t leave with the hulking cowboy blocking my way, I do the next best thing. I close my eyes and go with the good ol’ theory that if I can’t see them, they can’t see me.
“What is she doing?” Luke questions.
I hear Lucy chuckle but keep my eyes closed. That is, until my body is moved by the solid weight of another person pushing his body into the booth next to me. I jolt, sucking in a shocked breath that does nothing but fill my lungs with a scent that is all man—outdoors, fresh air, and just a hint of soap. Before he pushes all the way into the booth, my eyes open and all I see is Clayton’s smirking face, one side of his mouth tipped up and his eyes amused.
“Now what is she doing?” Luke stage-whispers to his sister.
“Reckon she’s figuratively shittin’ her britches, big brother,” Lucy jokes, not even attempting to keep her voice low.
“Better than literally doin’ it, but if that’s the face she makes when she’s takin’ care of business, I think she needs to go get checked up at the doc. Somethin’ ain’t workin’ right.”
I whip my head around and gape at them. “Would you two shut up,” I express venomously.
Luke holds up his hands in surrender. “What? All this could’ve been avoided if you’d just let the whole nickname thing go earlier. We wouldn’t even be talkin’ about your shit right now. It was you who started down this path, little one, don’t get mad that I’m just tellin’ you the truth.”
“This did not start because of me. It started because of your sick enjoyment of embarrassing me because, for whatever reason, you find the fact that I’m shy to be some sort of freak-show act for your entertainment purposes, Lucas Hazel.”
“I do not,” he defends instantly.
“Yeah, Luke, you really do,” Lucy confirms with a nod.
“Hey!”
She shrugs. “Not maliciously, I know you’re just tryin’ to get her to come out of her shell. Caroline knows that too, but you take it too far sometimes.”
“I’m sorry, Caroline,” Luke mutters, and I can see written all over his face that he really does feel bad.
“It’s okay, Luke.” I lift my hand with the intention of grabbing his across the table, but I jump when it’s hijacked by long tanned fingers that grab me with soft care. Then, with my mouth hanging open, I watch my wayward hand being lowered into Clayton’s lap as he holds it gently with his. I blink at my captive hand, flex my fingers, and wonder how I actually forgot he had sat down. My skin tingles where he’s touching it and I find my fingers curling tighter, loving the contrast of his suntanned hand against my pale one.
“Linney,” he utters in his deliciously deep voice, bringing my gaze from our joined hands to his bright green eyes. “Thought you were havin’ dinner at the ranch with me tonight?”
“What are you doin’ over in Wire Creek?”
“Had to grab somethin’ from the feed store that ours in Pine Oak was out of. Saw you through the window,” he answers, pointing out the window to the feed store across the street.
“Oh,” I lamely breathe.
“So, are we not havin’ dinner at the ranch tonight?”
“We are,” I confirm with a frown.
He studies me and I take a moment to appreciate how handsome he looks with his thick, dark-as-night hair sticking in a million directions. I look around, half expecting the ever-present cowboy hat to jump out and bite me. “Where’s your hat?”
“Granger, one of our newer horses, got spooked today,” he answers with a shrug, as if the fact that a huge animal getting spooked isn’t something that requires any more explanation. But seeing as I know nothing about horses, my imagination is running wild, something Clayton doesn’t miss. He gives my hand a squeeze and leans a little closer. “Sweetness, you worried about me?”