“Never really dated anyone. I was always on the move. There was one guy I was with for a few months, but we basically hooked up for sex. Never went to dinner or anything like that.”
“That’s kind of sad.”
Clay shrugged. “That’s what it’s like when you don’t stick around. I was never looking for something more permanent, and I liked to think if I met someone who I wanted to spend more time with, I would have stayed.” Clay paused and snorted. “Or at least invited him to go with me.”
“How long do you plan to stay here?”
Clay took a sip of his beer. There was nothing like a cold beer on a warm spring day. Unless it was a hot summer day. “I have no idea, but I think it’ll be awhile. At least until I figure out what’s happening, why people are after us.”
“There seems to be a connection between you and the other men.”
His eyes snapped to Dane in an instant. “It’s not sexual, I promise.” He had plenty of ways to fuck this up, but it wasn’t going to happen with Dane thinking he was fucking Baer or Grey.
Dane barked a laugh and shook his head. “No, I can tell it’s not that. But it is kind of strange. I think I’ve heard Flo call you guys brothers, and that’s what it looks like when you’re all together.”
Dane suddenly sat up and jerked on his line. “Got a bite.” He laughed as he reeled the fish in.
“That’s a nice one,” Clay said as he eyed the bass Dane held up. “Looks like a couple of pounds.”
“We catch more of these and I’ll do up a fish fry for everyone tonight.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Clay watched his bobber, which hadn’t moved. “Think I really need some kind of food for what I’m trying to catch. I’ll switch over to what you’re doing.” He pulled in his line and hooked a new lure on, then began casting and reeling like Dane. Before long, he got a bite, set the hook, and pulled his fish in.
“That’s a nice-sized crappie.”
“I love the way you say it. I’ve always pronounced it with an o.”
“Gotta love Georgia.” Dane winked.
Damn, he was a sexy fucker. Clay watched his arm as he cast out again, admiring the flex of muscle. Soon, they had caught eight fish big enough for a good dinner.
“I’ll have to run to the store for more of that fish fry. You like hushpuppies?”
Clay lifted his arm and wiped some sweat from his brow before it could drip into his eyes. “Can’t say I’ve ever had them. What are they?”
“Then you’re in for a treat. They’re deep-fried cornmeal batter.”
Clay groaned. “You had me at deep-fried,” he said, earning a laugh from Dane. “You got any more of that coleslaw?”
“I’ve got the ingredients to make more. We’ll have a feast.”
“Hope the guys like fish.”
“If they don’t, I have a little more of that fried chicken.”
Clay gave him a narrow look. “Well, I might have to lay claim to that.”
Dane threw his head back and laughed.
They put the fish in the cooler and made their way to the plantation house. Clay had the strongest urge to hold Dane’s hand. Good thing his hands were full. Romance might give the man the wrong idea.
Or the right one.
Hell, Clay was confused over his feelings. A part of him longed to find out just what they could be to each other even as he questioned when the wanderlust would return and send him packing. Dane was happy here. Loved Georgia. He couldn’t ask Dane to go with him.
Baer and Grey were coming out of the forest as they arrived, and they stopped to show off the fish they’d caught. Both men professed a love for fish fry, so Dane left them to run to the store.
The whole time he was gone, Clay worried the pestilents would find him. He should have gone with him, dammit. But he’d promised the aunts he’d stay on the property.
“Worrying about your man?” Baer asked as they took the fish to an outdoor water pump to clean them.
“I can’t help it. How do the pestilents know we’re the Weavers?”
“Afraid there’s a scent you’re rubbing off on Dane?” Baer asked with a leer.
“This isn’t a joke,” Clay snapped. “Are we putting Dane in more danger? Did they notice that night at the club?”
To his relief, Baer turned serious. “You think one of us needs to go with him every time he leaves the house?”
At least he wasn’t accusing Clay of overreacting, but the Earth Weaver wasn’t sure if he was being too overprotective of the man.
“I’d love that, but it’s going to get pretty suspicious fast, and that’s not a fight I want to get back into right now.”
Baer grunted. “How do they know it’s us? Do we have a smell?”