Page 58 of Finding Home

“Him?”Pete gestured to Clayton but kept his stare on Elle.

“Yes.” Elle leaned against Clayton for support.

Pete’s blue eyes flicked between them.

“Son…” Pete cleared his throat, placing a firm hand on Clayton’s shoulder. “…The family will be having dinner Mondayto welcome Tobey and Jerome back home. I hope you can be there.”

“Of course.”

“Great. I can show you my gun collection.” Pete’s stare featured a slightly menacing glint. “Alright kiddo, we’re heading home. I love you.” He kissed Elle’s forehead and she pushed into his chest, his arms tugging her close.

“He’s a good man. Just like you.”

“To me, nobody will ever be good enough. Although, I know he’ll come close.”Pete whispered back, clenching her tight. “Make sure she gets home safely.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh man, I thought Coach was going to kick your ass.”Todd chuckled, once Pete and Janet were out of earshot.

“Nah.” Noah waved Todd off. “Elle will protect him.”

Later, hands clasped, they walked to her rental. The dark parking lot was nearly deserted. The only illumination a single flood light hanging on the side of the VFW several feet away from her parked car.

As Clayton traced her lips with his soft fingers, he said, “Did Braedon get your travel booked?”

“Yeah. I fly out of Buffalo at seven a.m. Wednesday and fly back Thursday early.”

“Is the dinner something you’d take a date to?” he asked, his fingers slipping into the loops of her jeans.

“If it was back in L.A., I’d probably drag Willa or Viet.”

“So, dates are allowed?”

“Yes.” Her voice was thready as the pads of his fingers dragged up her torso over the thin fabric of her top.

“Do you want a date?”

Her body was heating from his touch and questions. “It’s in Boston.”

“Do you want a date?” he repeated, his fingers moving torturously slow up her throat.

“I’m only gone for twenty-four hours.”

“Do you want a date?” His fingers inched up her face to her hairline, combing through her smooth strands.

“It’s too much to ask.”

“Answer my question.”

“Clayton.” she sighed.

“Ask for what you want.” he said, eyes determined.

Something tight filled her chest. To just ask for what she wanted was huge for her. Asking left her vulnerable to being crushed by a “no”. If she didn’t ask, she couldn’t be crushed by his response. This man stood in front of her demanding for her to ask, to say whatshewanted.

“Will you fly to Boston with me for a day to wear something pink at a boring fundraiser with me?” Her voice cracked a little.

“Of course.”

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