9

Clayton

That evening, Keith Clayton lay on the bed smoking a cigarette, kind of glad that Nikki was in the shower. He liked the way she looked after a shower, with her hair wet and wild. The image kept him from dwelling on the fact that he would rather she grab her things and go on home.

It was the fourth time in the last five days that she’d spent the night. She was a cashier at the Quick Stop where he bought his Doritos, and for the last month or so, he’d been wondering whether or not to ask her out. Her teeth weren’t so great and her skin was kind of pockmarked, but her body was killer, which was more than enough, considering he needed a bit of stress reduction.

Seeing Beth last Sunday night while she was dropping Ben off had done it. Wearing shorts and a tank top, she’d stepped out onto the porch and waved at Ben, flashing this kind of Farrah Fawcett smile. Even if it was directed at Ben, it drove home the fact that she was getting better-looking with every passing year.

Had he known that would happen, he might not have consented to the divorce. As it was, he’d left the place thinking about how pretty she was and ended up in bed with Nikki a few hours later.

The thing was, he didn’t want to get back together with Beth. There wasn’t a chance of that happening. She was way too pushy, for one thing, and she had a tendency to argue when he made a decision she didn’t like. He’d learned those things a long time ago, and he was reminded of it every time he saw her. Right after the divorce, the last thing he’d wanted to do was think about her, and for a long while, he hadn’t. He’d lived his life, had a great time with lots of different girls, and pretty much figured he’d never look back. Aside from the kid, of course. Still, sometime around when Ben turned three or four, he started to hear whispers about her beginning to date, and it bugged him. It was one thing for him to date . . . but it was an entirely different situation altogether if she dated. The last thing he wanted was for some other guy to step in and pretend he was Ben’s daddy. Beyond that, he realized he didn’t like the thought of some other man in bed with Beth. It just didn’t sit right with him. He knew men and knew what they wanted, and Beth was pretty much naive about that stuff, if only because he’d been her first. Most likely he, Keith Clayton, was the only man she’d ever been with, and that was good, since it kept her priorities straight. She was raising their son, and even if Ben was a bit of a pansy, Beth was doing a good job with him. Besides, she was a good person, and the last thing she deserved was for some guy to break her heart. She’d always need him to watch out for her.

But the other night . . .

He wondered if she’d dressed in that skimpy outfit in anticipation of him coming over. Wouldn’t that have been something? A couple of months back, she’d even invited him inside while Ben was gathering his things. Granted, it was raining buckets and Nana had scowled at him the whole time, but Beth had been downright pleasant and sort of set him to thinking that he might have underestimated her. She had needs; everyone had needs. And what would be the harm if he helped satisfy hers every now and then? It wasn’t as if he’d never seen her naked before, and they did have a kid together. What did they call it these days? Friends with benefits? He could imagine enjoying something like that with Beth. As long as she didn’t talk too much or saddle him with a bunch of expectations. Snubbing out his cigarette, he wondered how he might propose something like that to her.

Unlike him, he knew, she’d been alone for a long, long time. Guys came sniffing around from time to time, but he knew how to deal with them. He remembered the little talk he’d had with Adam a couple of months back. The one who wore a blazer over a T-shirt, like he was some stud from Hollywood. Stud or not, he was pasty white when Clayton had approached the window after pulling him over on his way home from his third date with Beth. Clayton knew they’d shared a bottle of wine at dinner—he’d watched them from across the street—and when Clayton gave him a sobriety test with the inhaler he’d rigged for just such instances, the guy’s skin went from pasty to chalk white.

“Had one too many, huh?” Clayton asked, responding with the requisite doubtful expression when the guy swore up and down that he’d had only a single glass. When he slipped on the cuffs, he thought the guy was either going to faint or wet his pants, which almost made him laugh out loud.

But he didn’t. Instead, he filled out the paperwork, slowly, before giving him the talk—the one he delivered to anyone Beth seemed interested in. That they’d been married once and had a kid together, and how important it was to understand that he had a duty to keep them safe. And that the last thing Beth needed in her life was someone to distract her from raising their son or to get involved with someone who might just be using her. Just because they were divorced didn’t mean he’d stopped caring.

The guy got the message, of course. They all did. Not only because of Clayton’s family and connections, but because Clayton offered to lose the inhaler and the paperwork if the guy promised to leave her alone for a while and remembered to keep their conversation to himself. Because if she found out about their little talk, that wouldn’t be good. Might cause problems with the kid, you see? And he didn’t take kindly to anyone who caused problems with his kid.

The next day, of course, he’d been sitting in his parked squad car when Adam got off work. The guy went white at the sight of Clayton fiddling with the inhaler. Clayton knew he’d gotten the message before driving off, and the next time he saw Adam, he was with some redheaded secretary who worked in the same accounting office he did. Which meant, of course, that Clayton had been right: The guy had never planned to see Beth for the long term. He was just some loser hoping for a quick roll in the sack.

Well, it wouldn’t be with Beth.

Beth would throw a hissy fit if she found out what he’d been doing, but fortunately, he hadn’t had to do it all that often. Just every now and then, and things were working out fine.

More than fine, actually. Even the whole coed picture-taking fiasco had turned out okay. Neither the camera nor the disk had surfaced at either the sheriff’s department or the newspaper since last weekend. He hadn’t had a chance to look for that hippie loser on Monday morning because of some papers that had to be served out in the county, but he found out the guy had been staying at the Holiday Motor Court. Unfortunately—or fortunately, he supposed—the guy had checked out, and he hadn’t been seen since. Which most likely meant he was long gone by now.

All in all, things were good. Real good. He especially liked the brainstorm he’d had about Beth—the friends with benefits thing. Wouldn’t that be something? He clasped his hands behind his head and lay back on the pillows just as Nikki stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in her towel, with steam trailing behind her. He smiled.

“Come here, Beth.”

She froze. “My name is Nikki.”

“I know that. But I want to call you Beth tonight.”

“What are you talking about?”

His eyes flashed. “Just shut up and come here, would you?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Nikki took a reluctant step forward.