My Secret Santa Clayton (Silver Ridge Christmas)

26. Clay

TWENTY-SIX

Clay

I loved mornings like this—the quiet before the day really started, Grace beside me.

I wanted these mornings for the rest of my life.

Grace was curled up under the sheets, her back nestled against my chest. I grinned and pulled her closer; she responded with a sleepy murmur, her eyes barely open.

“Is it morning already?” she mumbled.

I chuckled, my voice low. “Yep…and there’s stuff to do, places to be.”

“Like what?”

“Errands to run, but some quick stuff,” I murmured. I kissed the place on her neck behind her ear—it smelled like her, like sweetness and warmth. She hummed contentedly. “Wanna come?”

“I probably should,” she whispered, “but it’s so comfy…”

Grace turned to face me, brown eyes warm in the morning light. “Looking like that, I’m tempted to just stay here with you all day,” I said.

She smirked. “Doesn’t sound like a horrible idea.”

Sheets twisted around our legs as I shifted, pressing Grace closer to me.

“Clay,” she breathed.

“No reason not to enjoy this while we can,” I growled.

Her fingers found their way into my hair, tugging gently, needy. The touch was simple but sent my thoughts scattering. Breath ghosted over my skin. Her skin flushed, her breath quickened.

I wanted to start this day off right.

I rolled her onto her back and braced myself over her, pulling the sheets over my head. I dragged my lips down her body, lingering at the soft curve of her hip before finding the warmth between her thighs.

“Clay,” she said, her voice steady but thick with anticipation.

“I’m right here, beautiful,” I replied and kissed her inner thigh.

Her hands found the back of my head, urging me closer. I obliged, my tongue tracing her folds until a low moan escaped her lips.

“Please,” she gasped.

I was more than willing to oblige.

I started to lick her in long strokes, my fingers finding her entrance and thrusting gently inside. She tugged on my hair. I wanted her to know I was hers—that I knew her body, that she belonged to me. My movements became purposeful, my tongue circling then pressing against her. Grace tensed, her breaths coming in short bursts. I felt her clench around my fingers just before she cried out my name, her whole body shaking.

“Clay,” she breathed heavily, “come here.”

I moved up her body, our eyes locking as I positioned myself. Her legs wrapped around me, pulling me in. I entered her slowly, savoring the tightness, the heat.

She met each of my thrusts with an urgency that matched my own. The room filled with the sounds of our bodies, our groans, the creak of the bed frame.

“Harder,” she commanded.

The intensity built, our bodies slick with sweat. With each thrust, I pushed us closer to the edge.

And when Grace's nails dug into my back, I knew she was close again.

“Clay, I'm—” she started, but her words cut off as pleasure overtook her.

I followed right after her, a low growl rising from my throat as I came, buried deep within her. We clung to each other, riding out the waves of release until we stilled, breaths mingling, hearts racing in unison.

We lay there, our limbs intertwined, catching our breath. The morning light cast a simple glow through the window, Grace’s body warm against mine. For a moment, we just existed together.

Eventually, I found the strength to roll out of bed. A grin stuck on my face, I pulled on my jeans, feeling the rough fabric against my skin. I glanced back at Grace. She stretched out like a cat, her satisfaction clear in her lazy movements.

“You gonna stay here?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “I want to put in a few freelance applications, maybe connect with the local paper…go through some photos. Time to move on, right?”

I smiled, knowing this was hard for her but appreciating that she was going to focus on us—on her family, on her life here.

“I love you,” I said quietly.

She smiled. “Love you too.”

“Before I forget,” I started, pausing to lean over the bed where she lay draped in sheets, “Deputy Langley will make his rounds today. Keep an eye out for him.”

“Will do, sheriff,” she answered, raising her hand in a lazy salute. I leaned in to kiss Grace, aiming for quick and easy.

But something shifted.

Her lips clung to mine, soft and inviting, and the room fell away. In that moment, it wasn't just a goodbye peck; it was like we were saying hello after years apart. My hand found the back of her neck, fingers threading through her tousled brown hair.

“Clay...” she murmured against my mouth, and I knew I should pull back, but I didn't want to.

Not yet.

“Don't work too hard while I'm gone,” I said as I finally managed to break the kiss. My voice sounded rough to my own ears, like I wasn't just talking about chores or errands.

“At what? The job I don't have anymore? Guess I'd better get to work with some applications,” she said.

“Good luck with that,” I replied, pulling on my shirt. Her focus on Silver Ridge meant more than just job hunting. It meant she was staying. And moving on. “It's good you're looking here in town.”

Grace offered a short nod, a silent acknowledgement of both my support and the reality facing us. We had our past, but we were carving out something new here—maybe not together, but alongside each other.

And that was a start.

I stepped out into the hall and walked to the living room, looking at the Christmas tree and finding myself…what? Happy? Bear was snoozing by the dying embers of the hearth. He lifted his head, ears perking up, but he didn't budge from his spot. Knowing Grace had him for company settled something in my chest.

“Stay with her, boy,” I said. His tail thumped once against the wood floor, and he lay his head back down.

Trusting the dog to stand guard, I walked out to the driveway and climbed into the truck. The leather of the seat was cool against my hands as I gripped the steering wheel. I would be home in less than an hour…Deputy Langley was patrolling, the FBI was aware of what was going on.

Grace was okay.

Bear needed to eat.

We could part for…just an hour.

I glanced back at the cabin one last time before starting the engine. It came alive with a comforting hum. Pulling onto the road, I noticed Deputy Langley’s car coming up the hill. As his cruiser rolled by, we raised our hands in casual greeting.

I turned my attention back to the road ahead, the crunch of gravel under my tires grounding me in the moment. I reached for the radio, fingers finding the familiar buttons without looking. Music spilled out, a country tune about love and loss that didn't require much thought—just the way I liked it.

The woods stayed silent as I rumbled down the dirt path. The lack of birdsong caught my attention, but I shrugged it off.

Probably just the season changing.

“Today's a good day,” I declared, willing it to be true. “A normal day.”