Chapter 3

He leaned down, desperate for her touch, and their lips met in the softest, slowest, most sensual kiss that Gray could remember having. The metallic taste of her chapped lips mixed with her honey flavor made him sigh.

Gray opened his mouth to her, leaving him to groan when her tongue met his. He closed his lips around hers, and sucked on it tenderly while his hands moved from their place on Claire's waist and up her coat.

His palms slid easily against the cotton and the kiss instantly deepened with a loud grunt from both of them. He swallowed every breath that she gave him and pulled her closer, wanting her to feel how much he wanted to be near her, consumed by her.

Claire's hands slid gradually up to his neck, and Gray's eyes rolled into his head as her nose rubbed along his jaw. His breaths were monstrously loud. He sucked in when he felt the warmth from her palms soak in. Claire.

"I'm sorry." Her small fingers grasped at the back of his neck, playing with his hair, and her breath burned hot across his throat.

"Come on, baby," he led her into the room and shut the door. He turned them around and pushed her with him, running his hands up to cup her neck. "You're late."

He enjoyed her blush. It was fantastic. She giggled and hid her face in his chest, nose buried in the rise of his heart. Her arms snaked from underneath and hugged him. Gray was helpless to her, so close to him and eagerly returning the hold. He squeezed her tightly.

"You're late," he repeated.

"It's been a rough day," she mumbled into his beater. Feeling her lips move raised gooseflesh on him.

Gray felt as her shoulders shook with the stuttering breaths that she was taking. He pulled back to look at her face. She looked exhausted, broken, and weak: adjectives that he didn't want to use on his baby.

"What's up? What's going on?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she put a hand on his bare bicep. "I heard work wasn't sunshine and daisies."

The weight of the day was back on him, just like that. She'd been able to take it all away by showing up. Now, he really needed a cigarette. He pulled her with him to the bed on the far left side by a cracked open window. He motioned for her to take a seat and rummaged through his bedside table to get a cigarette.

Claire watched his movements carefully while she tucked into a small ball against the wall.

He lit one and carelessly threw the lighter and pack on the nightstand. He crawled on his bed and scooted right next to her.

He took a long drag and blew over-practiced rings into the chilled air.

"Come here," he patted the sheets between his open legs. Claire's blush was pink and lovely, and their eyes met for a brief moment before she crawled over and fell into him.

She prepared herself for his lips, but instead he simply pulled her body closer and hugged her tightly. He buried his nose into her hair and breathed her in while Claire pushed her nose into his neck. He smelled like cold water, cologne, and smoke. Perfect.

She smiled into his neck and he kissed her nose.

"Want to talk about it?"

He put the cigarette back to his lips and blew out the window, "Not much to talk about."

"You sure?"

"He was being a real bastard today," he massaged his face. "I mean, jeez, I know I'm not perfect with the stuff yet, but that doesn't mean I gotta be treated like shit."

"What do you mean?"

Gray took another swig of smoke. "I was working on an order for that old coot farmer. He needed clippers for his sheep or some shit. There I am, cooling the metal down, and it's real basic stuff. I don't need any help. But he's suddenly there and up my ass about how I took it out too early, that I'm not putting the right temp water on it."

Claire heard him suck in and burn more of the cigarette.

"The old man was on me for everything after that. I accidentally yelled at a customer that came in later. I was too bent to realize what I was doin'. Gramps went on another load of shit lecture and I couldn't do it anymore. I stormed out. Could've killed someone if they got in my way."

She watched him toss the orange end out of the window. His arm wrapped around her like the other one.

"Then you don't come in and I was done. I needed space to breathe and think."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, hand covering one of his.

"S'okay," he nuzzled her neck. He was tense and Claire knew he had more to say, so she patiently rubbed his warm hands and waited.

"I'm ready to quit," he admitted, barely audible in her skin. "I feel stupid, you know?"

That made her upset. She turned in his arms and scooted away, facing him. He frowned at their loss of contact.

"It's called training."

He was taken aback. It wasn't like she knew what the hell he was going through, who was she to pretend?

She was nimble and submissive to her surroundings, and he knew she ghosted well until someone took the sheet off. He wasn't going to scare her away, and in truth, it wasn't a big deal. She was spot-on in retrospect.

"You're right," he laughed humorlessly in his shoulder. "I'm such a wimp. Sorry for complaining so much."

She played with the brim of the black beanie she was wearing and chewed her bottom lip. "I don't mind that you're open with me," he noticed her hand twitch but pull back. "You can talk to me about how you're feeling, even if it'll sound ridiculous to you. But hearing you threaten to quit something you've worked so hard for just because of someone else is stupid. It's not right."

His lips twitched with a response, but for the life of him he had no clue what to say.

Thank you? You mean that, baby? You're right and meeting you was the best thing that's happened to me in a long time?

He swallowed and watched as she fidgeted with the ends of her hair. Even though Gray realized how true it was, Claire looked on edge and delicate beside him, and he at once felt the need to change that.

With a soft sigh, he slowly moved forward and cupped her face in his hands.

"Claire," he whispered with his nose just inches from hers. He waited for her eyes to meet his, and gently smiled down at her when they did. She was stunning. "Thank you." He let his thumb trace her pink cheek and watched the color deepen under his touch. "I don't get what my grandfather is saying to me right now, but I think the time will come."

She nodded.

He let go and leaned back, "I already told you, I'm a fuck up. An asshole."

Her response was silence, a small smile, but nothing for him to go on. He could really use another smoke break.

The way she could be silent for so long should have made things uncomfortable, but instead, it made Gray feel peaceful. He could really talk about things.

He moved around to reach for another cigarette and lit it. When the nicotine hit his lips, his muscles relaxed.

"The shit he says makes me depressed sometimes. When I think I'm good at something, the bastard knocks me back down. I don't think it could get any worse most days."

She had no doubt that Gray would get depressed, but hearing the word out loud made her internally cringe. The word itself felt taboo and raw.

Still, what could she say? Yeah, she totally understood. That she didn't just feel depressed—instead, it was like the depression was the core of her, of every part of her, from her mind to her bones? That if he got blue, she got black?

No, she couldn't say any of that because when it came down to it, nobody wanted to hear it. No matter how much they liked you or loved you, they didn't want to hear it.

"He brought up my ma the other day," he flicked ash on his knee. "It got me so riled up."

"What happened?" she hoped he understood the depth of her question.

His shoulders bounced, his eyes glossy and lost in something outside the window. The smoke rolled from his lips like a steam train. "What, to my ma? She passed away a long time ago. Ann still gets sad about it."

Her gut twisted, "May I ask how?"

His eyes stayed away. The cigarette was pulled from his mouth, "Cancer in her lungs."

Claire's face seemed to crumble with emotion as she looked into his eyes. She shook her head slowly from side to side and cleared her throat. It was quiet between them until Gray scratched the scruff on his chin.

"That was his daughter. He never shows real emotion unless it's about her. He was yelling at our dad for letting Ann date that Cliff guy. Said she was too good for him. He says that 'cause she's so much like our mom."

She opened her mouth but found she was unable to speak.

"There was a shit ton of yelling. Ann says she loves him—I don't know. He's an all right guy, I guess. If he can handle her, then why not let him? But Gramps is too old-fashioned to accept shit easily."

The smoke was burning her nostrils, but Claire hugged herself and found comfort in it like he did.

He rubbed his nose, "It's just…" finally, his gaze turned and met her eyes. They were more sincere than he expected and left him breathless. She reached out and soothed his arm for reassurance.

"It's just that it hurts to think about her."

"Pain demands to be felt," she muttered into her kneecaps. He snorted, left in total agreement.

"Ain't that the truth. It's always weird when I realize that I'm not the only person in the world who thinks and feels these awful things."

Her hand lowered and slowly slipped to the top of his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Thank you for talking to me about her."

She was thanking him for talking? His eyebrows pushed together and he enjoyed another drag of smoke. What the heck was he supposed to say?

Those big sapphire eyes looked at him through thick black lashes. Dammit, she was too innocent and sweet for her own good.

She sat with her chin in her palm, watching him intently, never judging, never interrupting, or making comments on the things that he told her. It was liberating, cleansing, almost like therapy to be so open and honest with her.

But feeling vulnerable didn't suit him and he started to shake it off. They hadn't talked about her and he was suddenly left guilty, throat thick with a mess of feelings.

"What were your folks like?"

He continued to stare at her. The serene look began to fade and gradually morphed into worry. Occasionally her mouth would open to speak, but she would close it again quickly and exhale loudly.

She shrugged it off, "They were good people."

"Yeah?" he flicked the second butt of out the window and shut it. Winter nights were too cold to let the breeze in. "I've always been envious of people with good parents. I ain't sayin' that my dad's a bad guy. He's an awesome dad. Kinda always wanted that complete set, though. You know?"

Goddess, she knew. "Yeah."

"It's cool, though. Like I said, my dad's great. We've always done stuff together and he let's me get away with shit I shouldn't."

Her smile was sad.

He glanced over and noticed the fire was dying. The bed creaked under his weight as he shifted over, kissing her ear as he got up and slouched around. She watched him with curious eyes as he calmly walked and scratched his back with his calloused fingers. There were already a few blocks of wood by the fireplace and he threw them in with ease, and her eyes followed the muscles crawling in his arms.

There was something very beautiful about him. She enjoyed how mellow he was.

He leaned into the mantle and waited until he was satisfied with the way the flames ate the wood.

His head turned to her. Their eyes stuck.

The next second, he pushed himself off the stones and strode across the room, right back to the edge of the bed.

Gray gently rested his palm on the bed by her thigh, and leaned towards her, watching her mouth carefully as he moved closer.

Claire's eyes closed just as their lips met, but Gray kept his open. She was too damn beautiful for him to look away from.

Their lips pressed together gently: warm and moist. Claire was the first to start deepening the kiss by opening her mouth and taking Gray's bottom lip in between hers. She nibbled on it lightly and cupped Gray's jaw as she did.

He simply reveled in everything she was doing to him. It was erotic having her hold him to her as her mouth made tender love to him. His skin rippled under her touch; heated.

Gray leaned forward and kissed her again. He was greedy and he knew it, but he couldn't help it. The freedom that their company had brought him was too good to ignore.

With a gentle caress of his tongue along hers, Gray lifted back from Claire's mouth and crawled onto the bed, sitting beside her.

He hummed as Claire placed soft kisses across his mouth before she pulled away. Gray leaned into her palm and watched her eyes as they fluttered open.

She traced his eyebrows and followed the strong angle of his cheekbones. His eyes were spectacular. Cold blue that were almost gray, rimmed with a navy ring. They held power. They were demanding.

"Tell me about your dad." She requested.

He tangled their legs together and grabbed her hand, "He taught me how to be a man, like any other dad. The man's my hero. I wanted to be just like him. I promised him that I would try." He paused. "I still think I have a long way to go."

Claire felt Gray's chest rise and fall with a deep breath.

"My ma helped him get this inn. She's from a wealthy family, her mom's mom side or something. And she used her trust fund to get him started. He loved it and hated it. He hated the assholes that he had to deal with, but he loved meeting people and helping." Claire noticed that his tone was light, almost happy.

"He's really tall, he has a mustache that he is very proud of, and he loves Sinatra and motorcycles. He hates wearing suits and his favorite film is Jaws. Some people find him scary, or intimidating, but he isn't. He's a freakin' teddy bear."

She giggled and he found that he loved it. "I know he kinda felt helpless raising two kids without my ma, especially with Ann. It made me feel guilty sometimes. But I help the man when I can now. We're always gonna stick together. We're not weak as long as we've got each other."

Claire didn't say anything. She didn't want to because the envy was ridden all over her.

Since she saw the world for so many years in a brutal perspective, she thought most parents were shitty people. They made babies for the sole purpose of leaving them defenseless and sad.

People didn't know what to do with themselves.

Claire didn't know what to do with herself.

Thinking back on her own parents, she hadn't lied when she said they were good people. They probably were at some point. They just weren't good parents. It was a sensitive subject that ate at her mind.

Anger and pain anchored Claire, while fear was yanking her like a bitch on a chain. She would have never picked to be part of this world. It actually irritated Claire to know she didn't have a say in it some days. Getting up and walking around were chores. Communication was painful and exhausting.

However, she feared giving into her negative feelings and burying herself even deeper. She didn't want them to bury her six feet under. That was already a whim that she tempted herself with too often.

By now, she would have surely swallowed the pills if the electric collar of guilt didn't hinder her.

Whenever she got so far and lost in herself, facing the shadowed bodies of demons that were inside, it burned her nerves and skin and conscience and made her recoil. She was helpless against herself.

"Are you okay?" Gray asked as his eyes flickered between hers.

No.

"Yeah," she muttered with a sharp nod. "I'm fine. I'd like to meet him sometime."

She stiffened at her own words. Volunteering to meet people was something she never did. Goddess, Gray did things to her – it really messed her up.

"Good, because he's probably gonna want to meet the girl I spend every day with."

Her blush rekindled. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he nestled his nose by her ear, enjoying her, and kissed her cheek. "You know, you're good at making me talk. I'm hardly decent with new people, but I feel comfortable with you."

Her lips curved up. That meant a lot to her. "It's the same for me."

"If it's the same, then where's my chocolate?"

She turned to face him, "What?"

"It's the fourteenth. Girls are supposed to give their guys some sweets."

"Oh," she blushed. He wore a cocky smirk and had a playful twinkle in his eyes. She covered her smile behind her hair and hesitated. He gripped her hand tighter.

She looked up and gave him a very chaste kiss on the corner of his jaw.

"There."

"There? That's it? What, I don't even get tongue?"

She laughed and shook her head, making the blonde hair move like rays of sunshine.

Claire felt her heart kick behind her ribs at his words and let out a stuttered breath. How did he do that to her? How did he make her feel so chaotic? She felt like she was drowning while being simultaneously lifted to the heavens. Heavy lightness. Her brain couldn't quite comprehend it.

"But you're here, so I guess that's enough," he joked.

"I could have gotten you—"

Gray cut her words off with a kiss, smiling when he felt her melt into him little by little. It was a lazy, tender kiss and Gray moaned softly when her tongue licked at his bottom lip. He reveled in the feeling.

"You're here," Gray repeated as he kissed her and knotted his hands into her hair. Their tongues danced and their bodies rubbed together creating a glorious friction. He groaned at the feel of Claire's nails as they scratched over his shirt.

Gray gently rolled Claire onto her back and settled at her side, lifting one of her legs over his hip. Their lips still worked tediously on each other's.

"Stay with me tonight," he gasped as their lips parted, only slightly aware of the words as they tumbled from him. He pushed her hair from her face and kissed her cheek. "Please, baby, just…just for tonight." He searched her face for an answer. "But don't stay just because I want you to. Stay because you want to. Stay with me because you want to."

Gray didn't know where the pleading words were coming from. All he knew was that he meant them, and he needed her to say yes more than anything else at that moment.

The smile that appeared on her face could have lit up Broadway, and the sparkle in her eye made Gray's body ignite.

"I'm not going anywhere," she replied as her hand slid gently from his temple to his chin.

Gray smiled back at her and crushed his lips once more against hers, peppering her with soft kisses, hard kisses, wet kisses, sexy kisses, chaste kisses, long moaning kisses, and slow breathless kisses.

Claire suddenly stopped and disconnected from him. He felt the loss immediately.

Her eyes were wild with panic. It made him worry, "What?"

"I can't stay."

His expression and heart sunk, "Why?"

"I got hurt—"

"Shit, baby. Did I hurt you?" he was off of her in a moment, clutching his hair for life and messing it up even more. Then his hands were all over her, checking for red spots and any signs of discomfort.

She pulled away, "No, Gray. Stop it."

His hands were back in his ginger hair, gripping it at the roots. "I'm so sorry. Goddess, baby, you know I'd never—"

"Gray," she sat up and fixed her beanie lower. "Listen to me!"

His chest heaved and she toyed with the soft blanket, curling the material around her nails, "You didn't do anything."

"But you said you were hurt."

"Yes, but you interrupted me," she frowned. "I was trying to—"

"But you said you didn't want to stay with me!"

Claire's lips thinned into an annoyed line. She gnashed her teeth together.

He looked at her, waiting, skeptical, ready for the disappointment and the frustration to hit, but it never came. She was telling the truth. But, of course, Gray couldn't be satisfied with that. He had to push, to antagonize, and hear exactly what his irrational brain was dead-set for hearing. Gray rubbed his neck, "Sorry."

"I can't stay," she restated. "Because I'm not allowed to sleep tonight, and I don't want to keep you up all night."

"Uh…" his brows knitted in confusion.

"I got a concussion today, and I fell asleep after it. Trent told me I couldn't sleep or there was a higher chance for long-term damage."

Gray snatched her face in his hands, "You're shitting me—you got a concussion? And you freakin' let me complain about my day? Shit, baby, you're kidding me…" he examined her face but squinted when he retraced her words. "Who the hell's Trent?"

"Doctor Trent, from the clinic. He and Elli took care of me."

He frowned, "You seriously got a concussion today? How?"

Claire tried looking away, but his hands still had a hold of her. She fretted with the beanie's end at her ears, "I fell from my barn's ceiling."

"What were you doing up there?! Are you fucking insane? Do you have a freakin' death wish?"

Death wish? He had no idea.

Claire was shutting down. She didn't like the attention on her, and she felt helpless and exposed. She wasn't some fortune cookie, broken for the world to learn something they should already know.

She pushed his hands away and looked down, "I was fixing it."

"All on your own? Yeah, that was real genius of you, Claire. Real freakin' smart."

Claire flexed her jaw and slid out of his reach, around him and climbed off the bed. He reached over and grabbed her arm, pulling her back and him standing. "The hell are you doing?"

"Going home."

She pulled, but Gray was stronger and heaved her back, "Says who?"

"Me."

"All I did was ask you a question!"

"Let go of me, Gray," she clawed at his hand.

His hold softened, but didn't leave her.

Claire shoved his chest, wriggling herself out of his grasp. As she turned to run for the door, his hands were on her hips, fingers digging into her. A lump was tightening in her throat. She didn't want to cry.

"Let go of me," she babbled, voice defeated.

"I can't, baby. I can't."

For the life of her, she didn't want to cry. They stood in silence; her back pressed to him, arms locked like chains around her, and both of them trying to calm their breathing.

Her entire body slumped and she leaned her head against his shoulder. A small smile tugged at the corners of Gray's mouth as he put an arm around her, pulling her a little closer. He turned her body to him, resting my chin on top of her head. She snuggled closer, gripping his shirt in her hands and burying her face in his chest.

"Gray?"

"Hmm?" his lips were at her ear.

"I need some painkillers."

Sure enough, the aching in her body was creeping back and pulsing into her sensitive skull.

He led her to the bathroom and left one arm around her waist as he opened the cabinet mirror and scanned through the bottles. He turned them around to check labels and found good ones. Gray opened it up and shook two into her open palm.

They didn't talk. Claire popped the pills, cupped water in her hands, and drank them down. She dried her hands on a nearby towel.

She gazed at their reflection. His attention was on her, and Claire's was on them.

"What do we do, now that we aren't going to bed?"

"You can't stay up with me," her voice was raspy. "You have work in the morning."

"Thursdays are my days off."

Claire's eyelids dragged, "I want to go home."

"Okay, we can figure out something to do there instead," he agreed.

She smacked her lips and grunted, "You're being stubborn."

"Better than being unreasonable."

She toyed with her coat zipper and tugged it all the way up, mumbling obscenities in the collar. Gray left her side to go in his drawers and pull an old moss-green sweater on and then a worn down coat. He rummaged through a different drawer and yanked out two cotton socks that didn't match, then rolled them on.

Claire hugged herself and scuffled into the main room after fixing herself in the mirror. Whatever, she told herself. He could come along if he wanted to.

She absent-mindedly played with the zipper in her mouth again and walked with eyes cast down. Gray was in his boots and plopped his UMA hat on.

"Ready?"

She shrugged. His arm went around her back and he led them out, locking the door behind him. The keys jingled in his pocket and the floor creaked under them.

His eyes followed her mouth, the way her tongue flicked her zipper and teeth gnawed on the ridges. He felt oddly at peace.

It wasn't that his brain turned off completely while she was around, or that he had some cheesy spiritual enlightenment while they were together, it was simply that Claire seemed to help lower the internal noise. The frustration, anger, and disappointment that resided and twisted constantly within him was blunted and muffled by Claire's presence. He could breathe better, relax, felt more himself, and Gray had done nothing but bask unashamedly in his newfound slice of serenity.

When they got to the bottom of the stairs, he looked over to see if his sister was still at the counter. Cliff was sitting behind the bar, scanning over a magazine.

"Yo," Gray waved. Cliff looked up and smiled. "If my dad asks, I'm gonna be out for the night."

His gaze switched to Claire, who tucked herself further into Gray. He nodded.

The two went outside.

The moon was on top of the sky, stars sprinkled generously around. Temperatures were at their lowest. Nothing was visible out of the streetlights. Claire watched her footing on the snow. Gray left his arm hooked along her upper back.

"You're gonna be okay," he promised, planting a kiss on the crown of her head. "I'll take care of you."

When the night grew silent between them, Claire began to feel uncomfortable by her own mind.

Claire sometimes felt like less than a person―she considered herself to be a question that no one had the courage to ask. She would let herself sandcastle inside of others' stomachs from guilt.

Claire amputated the parts of her that she grew fond of herself a long time ago.

Why did she deserve to be taken care of?

Had she earned that? No, she definitely hadn't.

She made a silent prayer to her conscience. That he would turn back and go home. Leave her be. He was better off. She didn't want friends; it had been just the title that she gave the branches in her life that were destined to be abducted by the wind – she saw no reason for them. Why have friends when she couldn't even be one for herself?

Gray was a good man. He had no business getting wound up with her. It was selfish to let him in so freely when all there was under the surface were tangled of spider webs and pill capsules.

Claire wanted to pinch herself.

For years, the only thing she could do was describe the way the sky bent before it were about to fall. At her age, she'd already had a lifetime of tossing and turning that made Gray look like afternoon hiccups.

She was a woman who bled like a maple tree. She was a broken faucet, and when her confidence would hit the ground, it echoed like sin in a room full of the Goddess and anyone could hear her coming from a mile away.

And she came to Gray like an afternoon, slowly as if she were a broken sunset with a lazy sky, seeming so delicate and fragile.

Was she manipulating him? Poisoning him by just being around her?

"I'm thinking we could do some cooking," Gray interrupted the silence. "Do you cook?"

Claire swallowed and it hurt. "Why would we cook?"

"It'll pass the time," he smirked. "And I'll be honest, I could seriously use some grub."

She nodded.

He watched her, her face still down and shoulders slumped.

He dropped his arm from her, "Hey, are you okay?"

"Fine."

"Are you in any pain?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing I can't handle," she replied.

He frowned. "That's not what I asked."

She sighed deeply, turning her head to look at him with tired eyes. There was a depth she didn't think he understood about that question, but no one had asked her that in a long time.

"I'm fine."

He looked down at his hand and saw that his fingers had somehow braided themselves together with hers. Her hand felt tiny and fragile in his but also as if it belonged there. Gray raised their hands and held them to his chest. She looked at them, before looking up and meeting his gaze again.

The raw pain in her eyes made his smile fade and disappear.

"Sometimes… it hurts," she whispered, once again her eyes distant. "It hurts so much." She took a shuddering breath and the desperate sound made something ache in him.

"You just took some meds, though," his brows contorted.

"Yeah."

They were on her property line and he pulled them to a stop. Gray couldn't take the defeated look in her eyes, but he didn't know what he could do to remove it.

"You're kind of distant, you know that?"

She snorted and found an irrational interest in ends of her hair.

"I bet some good food will make you feel better."

She took a deep breath, and as she breathed out he could see her eyes being emptied of all emotions. She was detaching herself. A clump of emotions was visibly swallowed down her throat, followed by sure nods.

"You're right," she stood up straight. The way her eyes changed cause Gray to smile.

"Now, come on," he playfully tugged a strand of her hair. "You owe me some chocolate and cookies."

He followed her to the door and watched her unlock it. The two walked in, and Claire took an extra second to watch the night.

Her distress had not disappeared. There had just been another day kicked under the rug.