Yup, the Cellar it was.
What did it matter if he had to wake up in a few hours to train with Wyatt, who would be meaner than usual due to lack of sleep? Good, they could be mean together, because Clay was feeling pretty damn vicious himself. If he wasn’t careful, he’d start pretending Wyatt was Melody’s fucker of an ex-husband and likely send his best friend to Mercy General. One thing was certain: Wellings was in very big trouble with their upcoming fight, because Clay was ready to kill something.
“Clay!”
Clay pulled himself out of the internal fantasy of beating Melody’s ex-husband to death. He frowned through the fogged-up windshield, seeing Melody running through the parking lot. For one brief moment, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him, but he reached for the handle of the door before he could make up his mind if she was real or not.
He jumped out of the car and rushed to meet her, half afraid she’d slip running like she was because the treading on those sneakers had seen better days. Halfway through the parking lot, all he could do was catch her when Melody jumped at him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her off her feet as she buried her face in the curve of his neck and started sobbing.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, fear and concern causing a sickening wave of dread to settle low in his stomach. “Did something happen? Are you hurt?”
“No,” she rasped, her breathing labored, her voice heavy with tears. “T-truck wouldn’t start.”
Clay heaved a sigh of relief, still holding her tightly against him while her entire body shuddered from the cold. Her teeth were chattering against his throat. Her fingers felt like icicles as she slipped them beneath the back of his jacket and underneath his shirt, obviously seeking the warmth of his skin.
“Come on.” He turned to walk back to his car, still supporting all her weight as her feet dangled off the ground. “We’ll get warmed up, and then we’ll get the truck started.”
All he heard from her was the click, click, click of her teeth chattering, but he didn’t need confirmation. He slid into the driver’s side of his car, still wearing Melody as a necklace. He reached around her, finding the button to automatically push the seat back. When there was enough room for both of them, he pulled Melody fully into the car and slammed the door shut.
Then he sat there with her on his lap, trying to get his breath back, because he was still recovering from the fear something genuinely terrible had happened to her. He stroked her back soothingly while she pushed her hands deeper beneath his jacket and shirt, her cold fingers splaying over the bare skin of his shoulders.
“I thought I was alone,” she finally whispered.
“Nope,” he said, infinitely thankful his apprehension about Jules’s nosiness and low-hit tactics had left him sitting in the parking lot. “You’re not alone.”
“I know.” She finally lifted her head to look at him. Her glasses had fogged up in the heat of the truck, and she pulled them off, tossing them to the passenger seat. “Thank you.”
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak as he stared at Melody curled up in his arms, having never seen her without glasses on. It made her look younger, more innocent. He reached over and caressed her cheeks, flushed pink from the cold. The urge to kiss her was overwhelming.
Melody made the decision for both of them as her hands slid from beneath Clay’s shirt to the back of his neck. She tugged him down at the same time she leaned up and pressed her lips against his. The kiss was chaste, soft, and sweet like Melody.
Clay was lost.
It was her scent, flowery shampoo and minty lip balm. It was the feel of her lush body against him. It was the soft sigh of contentment against Clay’s lips. He couldn’t help but pull her tightly against him and kiss her back, really kiss her, pushing his tongue past those full lips and owning her mouth.
He hadn’t meant to be quite that aggressive, but Melody responded by clutching at his jacket and parting to his domination, her mouth opening wide to the thrust of his tongue. A low moan reverberated between them and Clay wasn’t even sure whose moan it was. It didn’t matter, because he was literally drowning in the feel of Melody finally in his arms. Their kissing became hot, openmouthed, and needy as quickly as it had once been soft and sweet.
He fell too fast. His brain shut down under the waves of lust pulsing through his bloodstream. His cock was rock hard, eager, and determined despite the two of them being more than a little exposed in the middle of the diner’s well-lit parking lot. He fought the instincts that screamed to push his hands up her skirt and rip at her stockings, searching for something warm and wet to sink his fingers into.