Page 26 of Sterling Clay

“Well?” One tiny brow tweaks higher than the other.

“What’s the question again?”

“Can Mr. Clay take me to Miss Meredith’s?”

“Mr. Clay?” I smirk at the man I’ve been conditioning Dutton to call Mr. Sylver.

Clay sits taller, patting the Seed & Soil T-shirt covering his chest. He gives me a smile I’m certain wins over many ladies and helps him get his way on a most occasions.

“I don’t know.” Hesitating near the table, I wring my hands.

“You can trust me.” Clay makes it sound so simple. I wanted to trust him. I didn’t want to believe all men were the enemy, but this was Dutton.

“Maybe another day,” I whisper, trying but failing to hide my cautious thoughts. Then I clear my throat.

“Okay, buddy. Quick quick.” I clap my hands again, signaling I need some speed this morning.

Dutton takes another bite of his oatmeal before sliding from his seat.

Sloth-mode detected, Clay intercedes. “I’ll race you. First one to be dressed and ready wins.”

This has Dutton’s attention. “What do I win?”

“Hmm. I’ll need to think about it.” Clay taps his chin, but the gleam in his eye suggests he already has an idea.

“And if you win?”

“I’ll watch an episode of Princess Power with you. I need to see what that’s all about. My niece Adara might love it one day.”

Dutton perks up at the promise. He rushes from the room, finding a companion for his television time a good enough excuse to hurry, which strangely makes both results a win for Dutton.

“That was sweet of you,” I say once Dutton clears the room. I start picking up his bowl of oatmeal watching as Clay doesn’t move to join in the competition.

“Leave it,” Clay mumbles around another bite of his own warm cereal before he runs his palm lightly down my forearm to circle my wrist.

At the sudden movement, I flinch, and Clay doesn’t miss my reaction. What he also doesn’t do is drop his touch. Instead, he softens his grip and runs his thumb along the delicate skin on the inside of my wrist. He gently strokes, as if willing my pulse to settle, willing me to stay still. The tenderness speaks volumes. Like he’s telling me he understands that I need time. Like maybe I could get use to his touch. Like maybe I could trust him.

“I’ll clean up in a minute.”

I’m still stunned by the offer even though I shouldn’t be. It’s not that he isn’t capable of cleaning up after himself, it’s just that I’m not used to someone else picking up after us. Even at my parents’ home, I waited on them, feeling like I needed to earn my keep as they allowed Dutton and me to stay with them for nearly a year. They’d never deny Dutton anything, but they had firm opinions about helping me. My parents were still resentful of decisions Cecilia and I had made.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Clay says.

Those soothing strokes on my wrist have worked their magic. I want to believe he’ll be here tonight, but whether he’s here or not, should not be my concern.

Today, my focus needs to be on the future for Dutton and me.

Freedom. Finally.

Chapter 10

[Mavis]

“What do you mean you can’t pay the claim?” I stare at the insurance agent seated behind a large metal desk. Her office is above a store in downtown Sterling Falls.

A turmoil of emotions collide within me. A contrast between punch-to-the-gut shock and numbness despite my heart hammering, anxiety hitting almost immediately before my brain catches up to what this might mean.

If there was one thing Wesley did right, he had us purchase homeowner’s insurance. During the arson investigation, I learned that many people take out the fire policy then set their own house ablaze to make a claim, and thus receive the money.