Through the Fire (Daughter of Fire, #1)(10)

After his revelations, a new understanding had passed between us, and we were both willing to put the past behind us. Regardless of whether he should have told me sooner, or if he had been right to wait, I’d learned the truth, and there was no going back from it. As we’d driven away from Ohio, the hardness and weariness seemed to have left him—as if he’d shed the burden of his guilt when he’d told me the truth.

I couldn’t allow Clay’s return to destroy the trust we’d regained.

I’ll tell him after I meet with Clay tomorrow, I reassured myself to ease the guilt.

At least I’d have a better idea of what Clay and I are doing after our meeting. I wouldn’t have to worry Dad unnecessarily.





FOR THE second day in a row, I prepared myself as if I were going to work, with no actual intention of working my shift. In fact, I intended to stop by the store to tell Mr. Lewis that I wouldn’t be back at all. Dad was right, we didn’t need the job for the money, and there was little reason for me to keep up the pretense of a normal life. Not while I had Clay to contend with. If things between us turned sour, I would be leaving town, not serving customers.

While I was getting ready, I lied to Dad again. Guilt made my voice heavy and strained as I told him that I wasn’t feeling well after all. But I wanted to take the truck again without him questioning me over it.

Almost the moment I left the store after delivering my news to Mr. Lewis, I shed my wig. If Clay and I were going to be talking about us, I wanted to actually be me from the start. My driving was just as terrible as it had been the previous evening because I was so distracted about what was to come. By turning up, I was declaring to Clay that I was willing to attempt a relationship with him. My heart and head had raged a battle for most of the previous night, but my heart had eventually won out. Even the mere possibility of a relationship made my head spin—our very nature made us enemies. His kisses, and the way he made me burn in such a perfect way, were worth the risk though.

When I pulled up in front of the building I took a few moments to catch my breath before glancing in the rearview mirror. Dad was right about one thing, just the thought of Clay made my cheeks flush with color and caused the lilac in my eyes to gleam a little brighter.

“You are ridiculous,” I murmured to myself before casting a sideways glance at the warehouse. “This whole thing is crazy.”

He’s in there waiting for me.

I wondered whether he’d had any second thoughts after our conversation yesterday. He’d left the decision in my hands, but what if he’d changed his mind? Tracking me down to fulfill a fantasy that had been consuming him was one thing, but to stay was another entirely. There was nothing to say the reality was anything like he’d hoped it would be. As if to counter the doubt, Clay’s words from a few days earlier played in my mind. “It was as perfect as I’d dreamed it would be.” Steeling my resolve, I breathed out as much of my anxiety as I could and climbed out of the truck.

For the second day in a row, I slid the large roller door open. Instead of making me jump like it had the day before, the sound gave me hope that Clay would know my answer long before I reached him. A flutter of delight tickled inside my chest at the thought. Before the door had even fully opened, Clay’s hand shot out, and he pulled me into the darkened corridor. I yelped with surprise, but the noise barely left my mouth before Clay’s lips were on mine. One of his hands caressed the back of my head while the other wrapped around my waist and pulled my body against his. He’d clearly been waiting for me.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and used my grip on his hair to tug him closer to me. Our bodies entwined together in a close embrace, and with my eyes closed, every available sense was filled with him. The blood that raced through my veins became super-heated as my heart pounded out an unsteady beat. Against my chest, his racing heartbeat echoed the speed of my own.

Reluctantly, I pulled away from him. “Hi,” I breathed into his mouth, still just inches from mine.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his lips quirk up into a smile. “Hi,” he murmured back just as quietly. “You came.”

I grinned back at him. “Was there really ever another choice?”

He touched his lips to mine for another brief encounter. “Not for me.”

“Nor me. I had to at least see.”

He stepped away from me and reached for my hand. “I’ve set up a little something for you.”

I tilted my head in question.

“Follow me.” He tugged at my hand before leading me back through the labyrinthine space to his office hideaway.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

The question made my heart stop for a second. Despite what I’d thought on the way home, I still couldn’t say that I trusted him implicitly, but I was willing to try in the hopes that one day I could.

He seemed to sense my hesitation. “Do you trust me . . . enough?”

I grinned at the effort he seemed to be going through to help me. It proved that either his emotions were real or he was setting up the most elaborate trap ever.

Despite the terror that had burned through me at the mere idea of his presence only days earlier, or maybe because I’d lived with it, I believed we might actually fit together perfectly. So when I answered, “Yes, I do,” it was almost in response to his first question. Almost.