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Authors: Sarah M. Anderson

BOOK: ClarenceBN
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She fell back panting and he buried himself deep inside her, feeling the waves of her climax pull his from his body until he came with a roar that he muffled against her neck.
 

He lay on top of her for a moment, too stunned to think, to speak—to do anything but just
be
in her arms.
 

“Stay with me, Tammy,” he murmured as he kissed her ear, her neck, her lips. “I want you to stay. Whatever it takes, I’ll do it.”

She didn’t answer.

*****

Tammy lay under Clarence’s weight, trying to think straight and doing a really lousy job of it.

The sex—God, the sex. She’d always liked it before but the way Clarence filled her?
 

Breathe. Breathe in, breathe out.

Actually, that was kind of hard. He was heavy. But she didn’t want to break their connection, not just yet.
 

Except—except for the things he’d just said.
 

And even though she knew that Ezra was long gone and probably never coming back, she’d heard the promises that he’d made all those years ago, about how much he loved her and how he’d do whatever it took to make sure that they were together. Anything, he’d said.

Anything but be a father, apparently.

She didn’t want Clarence’s promises. She didn’t want to think about a future and whether or not he’d actually be a part of it, no matter what he said.

She’d just wanted this moment. And she’d had it, briefly.

“I can’t breathe,” she told him. It wasn’t just due to his weight.
 

“Sorry.” He rolled off her and stood. “Be right back.”
 

She lay there for a moment, trying to sort through her thoughts, all while trying to remember to breathe. And no matter how she tried to think it through, she kept coming back to the same question she’d had earlier in the week.
 

She didn’t see how this was going to work. Which had sucked when she’d said it before. But now? Now that she’d had Clarence—now that he’d had her?

She heard the bathroom door open. Quickly, she stood and gathered her clothing, holding the bundle in front of her stomach.
 

Why didn’t this man have any curtains or shades or something to darken the room?
Something
to hide her body?

Clarence strode into the bedroom in all of his naked glory.
Wow
. He may be in his late thirties, but
damn
. He had a hell of a body. Maybe not a full six-pack of abs, but his chest—the chest that had been so recently against hers—was enough to make her start to drool.

She didn’t realize she’d uttered any words out loud until he turned a suggestive smile in her direction. “You like?” Then he noticed that she was holding her clothes. “Oh. Yeah—the bathroom—just down the hall.”

She swallowed down her nerves. “Okay. Thanks.”

She got cleaned up and dressed and then just . . . stood there for a minute, trying to figure out what to do next. How to respond to his ‘Whatever it takes,’ comment.

Because it would be so damned easy to say yes and let him do just that. To spending time with him. To letting Mikey spend time with him.

And she couldn’t. She
couldn’t
.

Once, she’d believed it when a man had promised to love her, to take care of her. Once.

It would be easy to love Clarence. It’d be
so
freaking easy to throw her lot in with his, to let him take some of the burden off her shoulders.

She didn’t know if she could ask that of him. To ask him to be a father to someone else’s child. Because what would happen when Mikey was, well, Mikey? When he had a bad day, a bad week—when he was a Tasmanian devil of a boy that ruined every single thing that he touched? Then what?

Ezra hadn’t even stuck around to see his own kid. She couldn’t imagine how, even if he was a ‘good one,’ Clarence would want to deal with Mikey day in and day out. Because there were days—dark, long days—when Tammy didn’t even want to deal with her own son. She wasn’t proud of herself on those days, but there it was. Being a full-time single parent was not all sunshine and rainbows.

She stared at herself in the mirror. All she’d wanted from Clarence was to be in the
now
. Why the hell couldn’t she get her mind out of the
future
?

Well. She couldn’t hide in this bathroom forever. She forced herself to open up the door and walk out.
 

She peeked into the bedroom, half expecting to find a still-naked Clarence waiting for her, but the room was empty. She stared at the bed—it didn’t even look rumpled. Like they’d never had sex on it.
 

She padded out into the living room, but it was also empty. So was the dining room and the kitchen. It was only when she opened the back door that she found him, sitting in his chair with one refilled glass of lemonade in his hand and a second one—hers—on the table.
 

In that moment, as she looked at the fresh glass—complete with ice—set near the rose in the vase, she wavered. It’d be
so
easy to love him. That didn’t make it a bad thing, did it? That didn’t make her weak or stupid, did it? Not like she’d once been, right?

“Can you stay for a little bit longer?” He took a drink. His voice was level. “It’s about 2:45. If you need to get home to Mikey, I understand.”
 

Even though he sounded perfectly normal, she was sure she heard a hint of hurt in his voice. She opened the door and stepped outside. “I need to be home by four so Mom can get to work.”

He nodded, but he didn’t say anything else. His gaze was focused on the sky.

So she sat in the chair that was still close enough to his that she could feel the heat from his body.
 

The air was tight with tension that hung in that narrow space between their bodies. She could tell she’d offended him and she wanted to reassure him that it wasn’t him—it was her. She didn’t. Yes, it was the truth, but she knew how it’d sound if she said it out loud and she didn’t want to hurt him.
 

He leaned forward and set his glass back on the table next to hers and then covered her hand with his. “Which part didn’t work?”

“Sorry?”

He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. “Something didn’t work for you. Which part?”

She’d never been asked that before—who would ask? Ezra? No. He’d bought the beer and taken her out on a deserted road and told her what she wanted to hear and, yeah, she’d enjoyed it. She’d enjoyed his attention, his promises. But the first time had hurt so badly and she’d made herself not cry because she didn’t want to upset him. He’d never asked how it was for her. Not the first time, not any time after.
 

Because he’d never really cared about her.

“I . . .” She took a deep breath. “Actually, it was amazing.” She didn’t feel that was strong enough, so she rephrased. “You were amazing.”

He stroked his thumb over her knuckles and she could tell he was smiling. But several seconds passed and he said, “But . . .”

He was asking. At the very least, she owed him her honesty. “I can’t stay with you. I can’t put my hopes and dreams into a future that I can’t be sure will actually exist tomorrow.”

He thought about that for a while. “I won’t play with you, Tammy. That’s not how I am.”

Oh, hell—she was hurting his feelings. “I know,” she said quickly. “And even if it does sound lame, it’s the truth—it’s not you. It’s me. It’s not that I don’t take you at your word.”

“Then what is it?”

“I just—look, I just need to stay in the now. One day at a time. Mikey has to come first and what happens between us . . .”
 

He kissed her hand again, but didn’t say anything.

“I was selfish once,” she heard herself say in a whisper. “I was selfish and stupid and I have to get up every single day and face that fact. And I love him
so
much—I didn’t know I could love another person like I love my son. He’s an amazing kid, you know? But . . .” She took a deep breath. “I can’t afford to be selfish again. Not even for someone as good as you.”

“I see.” But he didn’t release her hand, didn’t tell her to get a move on. He just sat there. She couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not. “And this today—this was selfish?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I wanted you. I still want you.” That was the truth of it. She wanted him and yet, she felt like she didn’t deserve him.

He chuckled. “Well, that’s a relief.”

She tried to smile, but she didn’t do an awesome job.

“So,” he went on, sounding lighter. “The sex was okay—”

“Amazing,” she corrected, her face growing hot.

“Agreed. Amazing. The part where I went wrong was . . . not staying in the present?”

“I guess that’s it.” She felt ridiculous when he put it like that. “That and the stretch marks.” She tried to laugh. “They’re just so . . . ugly.”

This time, he didn’t just kiss her hand. He leaned over and kissed her lips and all the glorious warmth flowed between them again. “You are beautiful. I don’t want to hear you down on yourself again, okay?”

“Okay,” she said. It came out soft and even a little weak.

“You’re going to have to leave soon,” he said, staring into her eyes. “But we still have a little time
now
.”

She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Yes,” she agreed. This time, she was the one to stand and pull him into her. “I think we do.”

Chapter Seven

Somehow, a month passed—one of the best months in Tammy’s memory.
 

Every Saturday, she had lunch with Clarence and then they spent the rest of the afternoon wrapped around each other in bed. After a few weeks, she let him go down on her, which was a new experience—and a mind-blowing one.

Quickly, being with each other once a week became not enough. So they started having dinner every Wednesday night, as well. After the first dinner, Clarence insisted she bring Mikey the next time, so she did.
 

Clarence had a small present—a toy Thomas train and a DVD of Thomas stories to go with it and that was all it took for Mikey to decide that Clarence was just the coolest dude he’d ever known.
 

Then, one Friday night, Clarence came to dinner at the Tall Trees house. Tammy’s mom was positively giddy to have “Tammy’s friend” over and went so far as to bake a cake—which never happened outside of a birthday. Mikey told everyone—loudly—about all the cool stuff Clarence had given him or had at his house. The whole thing was all kinds of mortifying for Tammy, but at least Tara kept her mouth shut.

And, after Tammy had put Mikey to bed, she went home with Clarence and spent the night in his bed. And most of the morning there, too.

It was something she could get used to. Hell, it
was
something she was getting used to. Clarence didn’t make any grand promises, nor did he ask them of her. The most they discussed the future was the next time they’d see each other. The next night they had dinner together, the next weekend afternoon they could spend together—even just the next morning at the Child Care Center, sitting on the couch, drinking coffee and occasionally kissing when Mikey wasn’t paying attention.
 

There was no future, beyond tomorrow or this weekend or next week. There was just the now. And the now was pretty damn good.
 

In fact, the now was so good that Tammy had begun to allow herself to think beyond the next seven days because she’d been right about something—Clarence was a man she could love. He was constant and steady and responsible and she’d come to a place in her life where those things counted for a lot. But it wasn’t just that, not when he laid her out on his bed and always,
always
made sure she came first.
 

She’d always remembered Ezra as being this special lover, how he’d awakened her to the joys of sex and how it hadn’t been quite worth the surprise pregnancy and subsequent dumping but it was all she’d known and that made it special.

Now she knew better.

Ezra had been a selfish boy. Clarence? He put her first. He treated her son well. He made her want something more. He was a good man, possibly the best she’d ever known. And she was falling for him more and more each day.

“Maybe,” she said one Saturday afternoon as she lay naked in his arms, both of them still breathing hard from the sex that got better every single time, “maybe we should start to think about . . . the not now.”

Clarence propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at her. Hope burned bright in his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Maybe,” she replied, feeling nervous. “Just a thought.”

He looked like he wanted to smile but was trying really hard to not. “You mean like—and I’m just thinking out loud here—Halloween and Thanksgiving and Christmas? That’s only two months of not now. I could take Mikey trick or treating and we could spend Christmas together.”

“Yeah, okay.” Two months ahead instead of two weeks ahead—that counted toward thinking about the future, right? “We can have Thanksgiving at my place, Christmas at yours?”

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