Beast Brothers

"I'm going to talk to Clay outside," I say, stepping past her. As I pull the door closed behind me, I can see that my mom is confused, but she doesn't interfere.

Clay thrusts the flowers toward me, but I don't take them. My arms are folded over my chest, hands clasping my elbows, and my hip juts out at a harsh angle. My body language should be speaking volumes to him.

"What are you doing here?" I repeat.

"I'm trying to find out what's going on," he says. He looks strange out here on George's farm. His pressed khakis, white button-down and shiny loafers look all wrong for the surroundings. "Why did you stand me up on Friday, and why aren’t you taking my calls?”

I glare at him, beyond irritated that he's brought this confrontation to me out here, and that he's apparently decided to act like he’s innocent and clueless.

"What's going on, Kate?"

“Really? You’re going to play dumb?” My jaw is clenched so tight it hurts. “I saw you. At the pub. There's nothing more we need to talk about."

"You saw me doing what, Kate? I was at the pub, but I don't understand why you're angry."

I have an urge to go back inside the house and slam the door in his face, but I see something genuine in his expression, something that softens me a little.

I take a deep breath and shift my weight. "I got off of work early on Friday. I came by the pub to surprise you, and I saw you touching another woman." I glare at him.

"I was with my coworkers," he starts, speaking slowly and sounding confused. "Oh, you must mean Nikki. She's an admin at our office, and I did talk to her that afternoon." He looks relieved as he's remembering, like he now realizes what I'd seen. "She was upset. Her boyfriend had just broken up with her, and I tried to make her feel better."

"You looked like you were making her feel better, alright," I say with a sarcastic snort.

"Aww, babe, it wasn't like that. I may have given her a hug. I don't really remember. But she was upset, and I couldn't just leave her to cry." He takes a step toward me. "How could you think I'd ever look at someone else?" He reaches out a hand and squeezes my shoulder. "I don't want anyone but you."

He stares into my eyes, waiting for me to soften, and I try to remember exactly what I'd seen. I'd been pretty far away from the two of them. It is possible I'd misinterpreted their contact.

"I wish you had come into the pub," Clay says. "I hate that you've been thinking all this time that I could ever do something like that to you." He puts his arm around me and pulls me into a hug as he rubs my back. I don't return his embrace, but I don't push him away either.

Had I been too quick to jump to the wrong conclusion? Clay wouldn't have driven all the way out here if he didn't care about me. Before Friday, things between us had been going so well. Maybe everything had seemed too good to be true, and maybe I'd been expecting something bad to happen. Maybe I didn’t believe that kind of happiness could continue; maybe I went looking for problems where there weren’t any.

Clay pulls back to look into my eyes. "I'm really sorry you got the wrong impression, Kate. I love you, babe."

He's waiting for me to say everything is okay. I hesitate as I try to absorb this new information. I'd been so certain he was cheating on me, but his version of events makes sense. I've never had any reason to distrust him before, so maybe I need to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Are we okay, babe?" He's got puppy dog eyes as he looks at me, an expression I don't see often on him, but when he uses it, it always makes me cave.

"I guess we're okay," I say.

Clay breaks into a huge grin and offers the flowers to me once again. I take them, and thank him, and then we stand awkwardly together on the porch.

"Wow, your mom's boyfriend sure lives way out here," he says.

I'd gotten used to the scenery over the past two days, but now I see it again through Clay's eyes. "Sure does," I agree. "And guess what? My mom will soon be living out here too. They've gotten engaged."

"Good for them," he says in an upbeat tone. "Can I go offer my congratulations?"

"Yeah, c'mon in. We were just finishing lunch." As soon as I turn back toward the door, I remember who else is inside. Not just my mom and George, but Tommy, and most importantly, Billy.

Guilt and remorse flood over me like a wave of nausea. I'd considered myself broken up from Clay Friday night. In my mind, I'd been a single girl when I'd flirted with Billy, though of course, flirting was a huge understatement for what went on between us. I'd thought I was free to do as I pleased. Meanwhile, Clay was in the city worrying about me, and in his mind, he was still very much my boyfriend. Oh god. What if Billy says something inappropriate? Now more than I ever, I need him to forget that anything ever happened between us! I say a silent prayer that things will go smoothly as I open the door to take Clay inside.

Chapter 12

Everyone is still seated around the dining room table when we go inside. My mom jumps up, looking anxious but welcoming. She greets Clay again and shoots a questioning look at me before she invites him to join us for dessert.

Billy is glaring at me. I can feel it even before I look at him. He looks angry and concerned, but I can only meet his eyes for a second before I need to look away. I introduce Clay to George, Tommy, and Billy. Billy gives him a brief nod before returning his focus to me.

I busy myself with clearing the dinner plates while Clay congratulates George and offers well wishes to him and my mom. Not for the first time, I have a nearly overwhelming urge to flee the house entirely, but I try to calm myself as I take a stack of plates into the kitchen. Before I've even set them in the sink, I feel Billy at my side.

"That's your cheating boyfriend? What's he doing here?" he asks angrily.

"Shhh— They'll hear you!"

"What's going on, Kate?"

I put the dishes down and turn toward him. "He came to explain," I say. "I got the wrong idea on Friday. I shouldn't have assumed the worst."

Billy arches a brow and frowns.

/>   "Please, please just don't say or do anything that—" I'm not sure how to finish my request. I'm the one who's totally messed up my relationship and now I'm asking the man I teased to keep secrets for me.

"I'm sorry," I say, for what feels like the millionth time. I am so sorry. I squeeze past Billy just as my mom enters the kitchen.

"Everything okay?" she asks me.

I nod. "Yeah."

"Great," she says, soothingly. "Can you bring out dessert dishes and forks, dear?"

"I'll get them," Billy says, as he moves across the room to the cupboard.

My mom picks up the cake that's on the kitchen table, and I follow her back to the dining room. When Billy returns and passes by Clay, I'm shocked by the contrast between the two of them. I'd known Billy was bigger, of course, but his hulking frame makes Clay look practically undeveloped, like a teenager. From the clothes they wear, to how they talk, and carry themselves, the two men could not be more different.

As my mom starts to cut the cake, Billy excuses himself. "I'll have some later, Rebecca, if that's okay. I need to get back to work on a project outside before it's too late in the day." He leaves the room then, with no more words to any of us, and no backward glances.

If Clay notices Billy's rudeness, he doesn't show it, and I'm relieved about that.

After dessert and polite conversation, Clay lets me know that he's ready to get back to the city. It makes sense for me to follow him, so I pack my things and leave earlier than I'd planned. Billy hasn't come back yet, so I ask my mom and George to tell him I said goodbye.

Clay drives fast on the return trip, but I manage to keep up. I assume he’ll take the turnoff to his condo, but instead he heads to my place and parks in the lot. When I realize that he intends to come up to my apartment, I tell him I’m tired and that I have to go into work early tomorrow. For some reason, I’m just not ready to be alone with him yet.

The next week passes quickly. Clay texts frequently and we have lunch together twice, but we don’t see each other in the evenings due to his long work hours. He’s attentive and kind, but he doesn't make any moves to deepen our commitment as I thought he'd been about to do at the dinner that had been planned for last Friday. I realize that if I was so quick to distrust him, I'm not quite ready to take the next step anyway.