* * * *
“Drive carefully.”
Melody nodded. Her stomach fluttered with a million emotions, and she wanted to stand there with Clay in the snow forever. She looked up at him, trying to memorize his handsome face framed in golden light from the streetlamp over the parking lot while snowflakes danced down from the heavens. Scruffy whiskers, black hair sticking out from underneath his black UFC hat still on backward, he was sinfully beautiful with his soulful eyes studying her just as closely.
She reached up and brushed at his forehead, which was still shiny with sweat. Her touch lingered and then slid down to feel the prickle of a day’s worth of whiskers on his cheek. “Thank you for helping me.”
“Sure.” He smiled, showing off even white teeth that were almost too perfect. “Anytime.”
“You have a pretty smile,” she blurted out before she could stop herself, because she noticed it often. “It makes you real handsome.”
“It’s fake.” Clay clicked his teeth together, showing them off. “Most of ’em are fake. I spend a small fortune on dental work ’cause having a buddy like Wyatt is hard on my smile. I’m always showing up in Clara’s office with some sorta emergency.”
Melody laughed. “Well, she does a good job. They’re like movie star teeth. I need me some of those.”
“I like your smile. It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
His low voice caused a zing of pleasure to dance across Melody’s skin. His dark eyes ran over her once more. He was getting bolder, because his gaze lingered on her chest, exposed to the cold from her open jacket. Then he stepped into her personal space and reached for the zipper of her worn jacket, working on getting it closed for her.
“You need a new jacket.”
“I know,” she whispered, because she was suddenly breathless. Having him zip up her jacket felt so very intimate. Letting him do it caused a low heat to build in her stomach and spread into her arms and legs despite the cold. She closed her eyes, trying desperately to ignore the pulse of need between her legs. “I need a lot of things.”
“I sorta wanna give you those things, Melody,” Clay whispered, his tone husky and compelling. He slowly pulled the zipper up, letting it run over the curve of her breasts, making her feel as if she could sense the warmth of his touch through her uniform. “I wish you’d let me.”
Melody took a shuddering breath, knowing they were talking about more than jackets and big tips. Why did this have to happen now? She’d never expected to find a man who affected her as Clay did. It felt like her life was a jigsaw puzzle, and Clay was the missing pieces. They just fit together so well. She felt safe and happy and whole when she was with him.
God, she wanted him.
Her body literally ached with need, and she didn’t know what to do about it. Giving in to everything he was offering would be effortless if she’d allow herself the luxury of letting down her guard, but she couldn’t. She hated her ex-husband for damaging her to the point that she didn’t recognize hope and happiness even when it was looking her dead in the eye.
“I’m sorry,” was all she could manage to whisper. Her heart hurt, and tears stung her eyes, forcing her to blink against breaking down. “I’m sorry for being me.”
“Don’t ever be sorry for that,” Clay said with a vehemence that made Melody look up at him in surprise. He responded by reaching out to brush at the stray wisps of hair framing her face, tucking them behind her ears gently. “I think you’re wonderful exactly how you are. The rest ain’t that important, okay?”
A dark, cynical laugh slipped out of Melody. “Most men would say it’s pretty darn important. Justin used to force me if he went more than two or three days without.”
“Christ.” Clay sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes wide and horrified. “Mel—”
“You coming, darling?” Judy interrupted him as she leaned against the front door of the diner. “We’re done in here, and we’re beat.”
“Yeah,” Melody called out, her cheeks hot with embarrassment and wet from tears she hadn’t realized she’d lost the battle against. She wiped them hastily and reached down, squeezing Clay’s big hand in hers. “Thanks for the help.”
“Sure,” he said, squeezing her hand back.
It showed how amazing Clay was that he didn’t try to stop her and he didn’t expect more of an explanation. He let her turn away and run back into the diner, and there was a huge comfort in that. He just let Melody be herself, the good and the bad, and he appeared to like every side of her. If she weren’t about to break down from the pain walking away from him caused, she’d have to admit he would be very easy to fall in love with.