cutting a cool glance his way. “And, Lacey, I think you’re entirely too old for this.”
“For what?” Lacey asked with a soft cough of disbelief. “For a man? For a lover? For a business? For a life?”
“For a boy.” She gestured toward Clay. “And you should be ashamed of yourself, taking advantage of a lonely older woman.”
Clay started to laugh. A chuckle at first, then a full, sharp, from-the-gut laugh. “You’re funny, Mrs. Armstrong.”
But Lacey wasn’t even smiling.
“C’mon, Lace.” He reached for her hand. “Let’s go.”
“No.” She pulled her hand away from him. “I don’t want to go, Clay.”
No? Was she going to give in and let this cold, cruel woman do what she’d obviously been doing to Lacey her whole life? “Lacey?”
“Very smart of you, honey.” The first bit of softness formed around Marie’s eyes, and a spark of satisfaction. “I knew you’d come to your senses.”
“I have,” Lacey said softly.
Disappointment curled through him, landing low and hard in his gut. Was she this weak? Had he misjudged her that much? A woman he was a breath away from loving?
“You can leave, Clay,” Lacey said.
He stood speechless. What power did Marie Armstrong have over her? “Leave?”
“Just go.”
Marie wore a smug smile and tipped her head to the door. He opened his mouth to argue but closed it again, taking the few steps to the back door. Pulling it open, he waited for Lacey to change her mind, but she didn’t.
Without turning, he stepped outside into the hallway. Behind him the door started to close with the hiss of a pneumatic hinge, slowly enough that he heard Lacey’s next words.
“Mother, listen to me.”
He slid a hand in the frame to keep the door ajar.
“I don’t need to hear your excuses, Lacey. Everyone makes mistakes and he, well, he was a doozy.”
“I’m not making excuses, Mother. I want to say something to you. One time and one time only.”
Clay inched closer. He had to hear. Had to know.
“Say it fast and then let’s go. I can’t stand the thought of Ashley with that Zoe woman.”
He heard Lacey’s intake of breath, as though she were about to start a speech. Then silence.
“What?” her mother demanded.
“I don’t know why you have so much anger in you, Mother, or why you are so disappointed in me.”
“I’m not—”
“It doesn’t matter,” Lacey insisted. “Because I forgive you.”
Clay closed his eyes at the echo of his own words to his father. He knew exactly how liberating that was.
“I don’t need your forgiveness. I don’t need—”
“Anything or anyone. I know. But I do.” Lacey’s voice cracked, making Clay squeeze the door. “I need love and I need that man out there. I need him like I need my next breath.”
“You’re confusing sex with need.”
“I’m not confused about anything.” Her voice rose with conviction and clarity. “I love him and I want to spend every possible minute next to him.”
Yes. Yes, Strawberry, yes.
“Well, you do that,” her mother said. “And I’ll be there to pick up the pieces when he dumps you for the next girl who gives him what he needs.”
“There won’t be a next girl.” Confidence oozed from every word. “I’m all he needs and all he wants and all he will ever have to have.”
He braced for Marie’s cutting reply, but there was nothing but silence. And footsteps to the door, fast enough for him to realize she was running. To him.
“Clay!” Lacey called, pushing the door so hard he had to jump back to keep from getting nailed. “Clay! Oh. You’re here.”
“I’m here.”
“You heard.”
“Every word.”
“And…”
He reached for her, pride and love and something he couldn’t even name welling up inside of him.
Completion. That was what it was. Like the final stroke on a drawing that was just waiting for completion. He could see the whole picture ahead and, man, it looked good.
“And I think you are right about everything,” he said. “Especially the part about how you are all I need and all I want and all I ever have to have.”
Lacey leaned into Clay. “You know what I want to do now, Clay?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Thank me properly?”
“After that, I’d like to make some of your drawings come to life. And I don’t mean the floor plans.”
He reached down to kiss her. “Told you, Strawberry. If I can see it clear enough to draw it, I can make it happen. Let’s make it happen… together.”
“I like that.”
He grinned. “I like you.”
“I—”
He placed one finger over her lips. “Let me say it first. I