Page 8 of Clint & Ivy
As Clint studied me, I noticed a flash of uncertainty in his blue-eyed gaze. His worry only lasted a moment before he smiled.
“Do you believe in fate?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I do. Good and bad luck feel like destiny to me. I’m not saying people don’t have choices. But there are important moments in everyone’s life that are more than happy accidents. I think today was one of those moments.”
“So, us meeting was fate?”
“Yes. I’ve only felt this certain once before in my life. In that first situation, I didn’t know when I should make my play, even if I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I thought I might miss my shot, but as soon as the time was right, my instincts didn’t let me down. I’m also choosing to believe I’m making the right choice with you.”
Clint cupped my face. Without thinking, I nuzzled my cheek against the palm of his hand. I sometimes forgot how much I craved affection. The more Clint touched me, the more I felt my cold loneliness falling away.
“I still don’t know what happens next,” I murmured in a dreamy tone.
Clint kissed my forehead and inhaled deeply like he was memorizing my scent. He stepped back and looked around the room.
“I can’t take you out anywhere,” he said and then nodded. “My people will be all over this situation before you and I can even get to know each other. So, let’s think of everything in a logical way. You need more clothes, supplies, and a phone.”
Clint opened the small closet and studied the clothes inside. “My sister is probably seven inches taller than you,” Clint said and smiled slightly. “Elle is built differently, too. Her clothes won’t fit you well, but you can probably wear her sweatpants and a T-shirt until we have new stuff delivered for you.”
I looked inside the small walk-in closet to find one side filled with women’s clothes and the other with a child’s outfits. There were shoes on the closet floor. I felt like Goldilocks, where one size was too big and the other was too small.
“You don’t need shoes,” Clint said and walked around me to get to the bathroom. “We aren’t going anywhere for now. If I leave the condo, my people will descend upon us like locusts.”
“Why?”
Clint crossed his arms and smiled at me. “I’m not a romantic man. I like to fuck, but I rarely date. I haven’t had a girlfriend since high school. This,” he said and gestured between us, “is not how I do things.”
Glancing toward the window as if imagining his people, he continued, “That’s why everyone will flip out when they hear about you. Their curiosity is bound to make them obnoxious. So, let’s stay inside for now. We’ll do online shopping. I’ll order dinner. We’ll figure out what you need to stay safe. Plus, we can get to know each other.”
“What if you don’t like what you learn about me?” I asked, unable to edit myself when Clint’s gaze held mine.
“It doesn’t matter,” Clint said and smiled. “Fate brought us together. I feel something different for you than I have for any other woman. That makes you special, even if you have weird tastes or bad habits. We’ll figure it out.”
Clint exited the bathroom and looked around. “You should shower. Elle has plenty of crap in there for you to use. I’m going to run upstairs and get a shower in the other bathroom.”
Back in Reno, when people told me what would happen next, they would finish speaking and walk away. There was never any attempt to get my feedback or make sure I understood.
Clint, though, waited for me to react to his words. I should have simply nodded. But the fearful voice inside me wanted to be heard.
Tears filled my eyes, winning a frown from Clint.
“Tell me why you’re unhappy.”
“I’m scared about the next part.”
“What next part?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Well, what I do when I’m afraid is to keep moving forward,” Clint explained. “I decide on five things I need to do, and don’t worry past those steps. By the time I get to the end of those five things, I usually have more information about my situation. The fear might not be around anymore. So, I think you should focus on your next five steps.”
“The shower is one.”
“Yes, and picking out something to wear is two.”
“Meeting you in the living room is three,” I said and then asked, “Then what?”
