Chapter Ten

Kelly Jo's look remained innocent while she casually rearranged her dripping, smelly ringlets. "Sure. What would you like to talk about?"

"Game time is over," Clay stated flatly. "Ten minutes away? Yet you found it necessary to make a breaking-and-entering pit stop?"

"I did," she agreed, then further infuriated Clay when she added nothing more.

"Kelly Jo," he warned. "I'm not playing."

Kelly Jo sighed, then stomped her foot, the first visible sign she wasn't as in control as she wanted Clay to think. "I couldn't just stroll into Covey's Creek like this and you can hardly fault me for that, Clay," she said curtly. She then extended her hands to the side and pitifully wailed, "Look at me!"

"Not buying it," he informed her, battling to do the gentlemanly thing and avert his gaze from where only her long hair now covered. "You weren't dirty and smelly before we stopped here. You told me that Covey's Creek is a small town many miles north. Robert called it a fairly large town about ten minutes from here."

Kelly Jo sniffed. "Well, obviously one of us exaggerated. And it wasn't me."

Clay glared at her. "No. One of you lied. And it wasn't Robert."

Kelly Jo exhaled an annoyed breath. "Split hairs if you want to, Clay, but..."

Exasperated and unwilling to listen to anymore of her attempts to double-talk him, he stood and interrupted with, "Which way to the creek? I want to get out of these clothes."

Desperation crept into Kelly Jo's tone. "I don't even have clothes...thanks to you. Since you know now that there's a dog there, can't you do the right thing and try to get in the house again?"

Clay bit back on his instant reply, then curtly said, "I should have done the right thing back at the oak tree and handed your sorry butt over to Robert."

He looked at the road they'd just come down and started retracing his steps.

"Where are you going?" she asked. "That's the way we came."

"Yep," he said flatly. "If you won't tell me which way to the creek I'll just find it myself." He gave her a quick too bad for you glance. "This stench has put me in a bit of a hurry so your ride may get a little bumpy."

Kelly Jo shot him a dark, frustrated look, but instead of arguing her point of Clay making a second attempt to enter the house, wisely stayed quiet, her arms folded across a chest heaving in contained anger.

Clay walked and got nowhere, ignoring Kelly Jo's occassional "hey!" from being jostled and her vocally vibrating "slow down!".

Finally she yelled, "Stop, Clay, just STOP and I'll tell you how to get to the creek."

Clay said nothing, but he stopped, his face impassive as his gaze met hers. "Why should I trust you?"

Kelly Jo shrugged. "I wouldn't if I were you..." she was cut off by Clay again walking down the road.

"Wait!" she cried.

He didn't.

"I'm sorrrrry," she conceded.

"I doubt that," he said, noting that his long stride still jarred her where she sat.

"There's a narrow path a few yards from here, to the right," she told him. "Turn in there and stay on the path through the woods. It'll take you straight to the creek."

Clay stopped and gave her a cool, evaluating look. "This isn't a backtrack to that house, is it? Because if it is, and you think you're sorry now..." he warned.

"It isn't," she said quickly. "I promise."

"Spare me the innocent act, Kelly Jo," he said flatly. "I've pretty much got your number...1-800-lying-self-centered-con-artist."

"Heyyyyy," she protested. "That's a little harsh."

Clay spotted and stepped onto the path to the creek. He welcomed the coolness of the trees, but his brows raised as he looked at Kelly Jo. "I notice you didn't say it was untrue. Just harsh."

"Oh," she burst out. "I don't care what you think. Just get me to that creek."

Clay remained silent for the rest of the walk. The sun was now dipping in the west, but the moon was rising in the east. One of those dusks when you could enjoy the sight of more than one heavenly body. With that thought his glance went to Kelly Jo. Even with the short view he'd inadvertently been given, he definitely considered hers a heavenly body...in every conceivable way.

Clay heard the creek long before he laid eyes on it. When he came around the last large boulder he gave a start. The water in front of him was a lot wider than what he called a creek. Not as vast as even a small river, but a lot larger than a normal creek or stream.

"At last," Kelly Jo said in relief. "I thought you would bounce my brains out," she complained.

"Not possible," he informed her, still watching the peacefully moving water.

"Very funny," she said with a grimace. "The middle is pretty deep if you want to swim, but about ten yards out it's still only waist length."

Trees overhung on both sandy banks and rocks lined the shore, with several bigger ones interrupting the serene motion of the water.

"Okay," Clay said. "I'm going to put you over there behind a tree and I'm going to strip and then wash myself and my clothes. When I'm done..."

Kelly Jo was aghast. "When you're done?" She shook her head and her voice was firm. "I'm sorry, Clay, but you're going to have to wait your turn. I have to get this...this dog stink...off of my skin, out of my hair..."

"Pick a tree," he interrupted flatly. "And you'd better hope that there's no stray dogs in the area. Or badgers. Or..."

"Don't you do it," she warned. "I'm going first and that's all there is to it."

Clay raised the painting and held her gaze in amused challenge. "Think so?"

"Yes," Kelly Jo insisted. "Clay, what would your mother think if she knew how you've been acting?"

"She'd be surprised that I haven't already dug a hole, thrown in you and the painting and covered the hole again."

"Hardy har har," Kelly Jo mocked. "Why don't you just throw me out into the creek then and be done with it? What better way to wash your hands of me, so to speak?"

Clay grinned, but his eyes said he was about at the end of his patience. "What a great idea," he agreed. "Why didn't I think of that?"

He pulled his hand back in a pitching motion, like he would hurl the painting.

Kelly Jo gasped. "Don't you dare!"

But Clay was enjoying her discomfiture, her unsureness of whether he would or not and he wasn't about to relinquish the upper hand. "Oh, yes, I do dare!" he stated and pitched his arm forward.

To his horror, and to the sound of Kelly Jo's blood-curdling scream, the painting went flying through the air. It landed with a loud KER-PLUNK in the middle of the peacefully moving creek.

Clay was frozen in shock as the painting popped to the surface with Kelly Jo sputtering and coughing. Then the painting listed and began to sink.

Stunned, Clay watched in horrified silence as a few bubbles rose, then the painting disappeared completely beneath the surface.

Chapter Eleven

Clay splashed from left to right, wading deeper, fighting panic that he'd have to dive down and search for the painting before Kelly Jo drowned.

Without warning, the water churned, roiled and nearly erupted in the exact spot where the painting had sunk.

Was this Kelly Jo's way of letting him know the spot he needed to get to in order to rescue her?

Clay sucked in a deep, choppy breath for courage and forced himself to take a few steps into deeper water, his gaze riveted on where the water suddenly stilled.

A head shot through the surface and Kelly Jo gasped for air.

Shocked, Clay stumbled backward, lost his footing and went down. Seated on the creek bottom, the water was to his chest, but he couldn't take his gaze from the beautiful woman thrashing in the water yards out.

Right where he'd thrown the painting.

"You're...you're...free..." he stammered.

"Clay, help me!" she cried. "I can't..." she went briefly under... "swim!"

Neither could he.

Panic drenched Clay, but he fought his way to his feet, ripping off his shirt. "Stay calm," he ordered, in a voice that shook. "When I throw my shirt out there, grab it and I'll pull you to shore."

Kelly Jo fought to keep her head above water, but went under again and Clay wondered if she'd heard what he'd said.

"I'm coming, Kelly Jo," he reassured her as he moved deeper into the water, aware that the terror in her eyes had nothing on the terror in his own heart.

Clay struggled to keep his own fear at bay and focused only on reaching Kelly Jo.

"Your...pants," she gasped, spitting water from her mouth.

"What?"

"They're longer. Hurry, Clay..." she went under again.

Clay realized she was right and surprised himself with the speed in which he was able to get out of his shoes and then his jeans.

Kelly Jo came up again, sputtering and choking. When her gaze met Clay's he saw in summer-sky blue eyes that she knew she'd lost this battle.

Red hot fury pulsed through Clay. At himself for causing this, at her for giving up. He lunged forward into neck-deep water, compressing his own fear of the water.

"Grab hold," he demanded and threw one end of his pants unerringly to within Kelly Jo's reach.

Her fingers clutched onto the bottom of Clay's jeans, but Clay had to dig in his heels in the sandy, rocky creek bottom to stop Kelly Jo from pulling him forward when she again went under.

He jerked forward on the jeans, praying that he didn't pull the jeans out of Kelly Jo's grip. He was overcome with joy when he saw her head break the surface as she was pulled toward him.

"Relax," he soothed as he slowly pulled her through the water to where he stood. "You'll be back on shore in a minute."

Kelly Jo nodded and Clay saw her gagging from the water she'd taken in during her battle to stay afloat.

Clay started walking backward, still pulling Kelly Jo, afraid to let the jeans go slack and have her again go under. He spoke soft, encouraging words the entire time, his gaze locked with her still frightened blue one as he made his way toward shore.

The water was between his waist and his knees when he stumbled. When he fell backward, his grip still tight on the jeans, the tumbling motion of him falling combined with his strength on his jeans inadvertently jerked Kelly Jo directly toward him.

When she landed on him in the water, she wrapped her arms around his neck, her naked body flat against his nearly naked one. Clay's boxers and his socks were the only things between him and Kelly Jo.

Thoughts and feelings Clay didn't expect were normal to feel for an angel coursed through his now on-high-alert body.

Kelly Jo's arms stayed around his neck and she laid her forehead on his. Her breathing was ragged, ragged, Clay hoped, from her experience and not from the intimate proximity they shared. Heaven would not be pleased, he was sure.

Kelly Jo's blue gaze smiled into Clay's and her warm breath was soft against his lips. "Thank you, Clay," she said quietly.

Clay knew he was on dangerous ground, even if he was in the water. Heaven was tightly in his arms, tempting him, whether it was an intentional temptation or an accidental one.

To his chagrin, all he could think of after clearing his throat was, "So...I guess you won't be needing those Barbie clothes after all."

Chapter Twelve

Kelly Jo's head snapped up and her eyes widened. "Oh, NO!" she cried and pulled away from Clay's grasp to squat in the water, in the pose Clay now found all too familiar. Arms crossed across her chest, hiding her charms from green eyes who found the battle to not appreciate them unwinnable.

Clay's body had seared into his brain just how definitely it appreciated cozying up with those charms.

Clay shook his head to clear it, realizing the heat in his face probably alerted Kelly Jo that she'd concealed what he'd already enjoyed, even if enjoyed only through his currently very happy sense of touch.

Good thing the water was cold.

Or not, Clay thought as Kelly Jo shivered.

Through teeth that chattered, Kelly Jo said, "I need your shirt."

"Sure," Clay said instantly. "Just let me get my..." he looked around the water..."pants".

"Hurry," she pleaded. "I'm freezing."

Clay glanced at her. Funny, she hadn't felt at all cold when she'd been pressed up against him. Of course, there was no reason to mention that.

Clay was only in his boxers so he didn't want to stand to search for his jeans.

Now what?

"Do you see them?" Clay asked.

Kelly Jo stared at him. "See...who?" Her eyes widened and she moved toward Clay, furtively looking around. "Are there people here now? Oh, no," she breathed, closing, then opening her eyes. "Hide me..."

"Stop," he commanded, moving toward shore and away from Kelly Jo, his heart racing that this naked angel was about to sit on his lap. "I meant see them...not see who. As in...my pants."

Kelly Jo expelled an annoyed sigh. "Did you have to scare me like that, Clay? And, no, I haven't seen your pants. Why didn't you keep track of them?"

"Keep track of them?" he exploded in disbelief. "Are you for real? I took them off to drag you back to shore...at your request, by the way. And then when you launched yourself at me I guess I lost track of where they were floating."

Kelly Jo's teeth chattered and her lip quivered from cold. "Well, I'm guessing they're not floating now. Heavy denim sinks."

"Oh, really?" Clay asked sarcastically. "You know this...how? Because I'm not the first one you've put through this routine? How many others ended up pantsless because of your shenanigans?"

Kelly Jo giggled through her shivers.

Clay offered a sheepish grin, but his voice was stern. "You know what I meant."

"Clay, the air is warm, but this water is ice cold."

His sarcastic, "Noooo. Really?" was greeted by her frown.

"You have to fix this," she informed him.

"Why, suuuuure," he said. He waved a hand over the water and said, "Voila! Icy water is now bath temperature." He ignored the dirty look she shot him, waited with an expression of anticipation, then shook his head in disappointment. "Aw, sweetie, I'm really sorry. I tried to warm it up, but," he added with a shrug, "I guess your personality cooled it off a little too much."

Kelly Jo lifted her chin and gave him a haughty, "You're not the least bit funny."

Clay smiled, even though he was keenly aware that it wasn't right that he took delight in her situation. Right now he didn't care. He wanted his pants.

At the sound of scurrying, they both looked just in time to see a racoon grab Clay's sopping wet shirt from further down the shoreline and scamper off into the woods with it.

"Great," he muttered.

Kelly Jo started to laugh.

Clay looked at her like she had finally jumped from the edge.

"Now you have no choice," she told him. "You have to go to one of the houses here and get me something to wear."

He stared at her. "I certainly do not!"

"I can't stay in the water forever," she reminded him. "You have pants to wear...they must be here somewhere...but I needed your shirt. I have nothing to cover myself."

Clay's increased enjoyment at her plight should have shamed him. It didn't even come close. "Why don't you just walk the same way you were posed in that painting?" He shrugged, then grinned. "Works for me."

To his surprise, Kelly Jo blushed, then offered a haughty, "Let's look for your jeans, shall we?"

***

Half an hour later they hadn't found them. They'd dragged their feet along the creek's bottom to no avail. No jeans.

They were both very, very cold and Clay was a little concerned at the prunish turn to Kelly Jo's skin, the slight purple tinge to the lips that quivered from her chill.

Finally, Kelly Jo sighed. "You have to go, Clay. You have no choice."

Clay stared at her. "Go where?" He extended his arms to expose his bare skin. "I'm almost as naked as you. Going...anywhere...isn't a good idea."

Tears filled Kelly Jo's eyes. "It's getting dark, Clay. I don't want to stay in this water any longer than I have to stay in it. I'm cold. Very cold. I'm asking you," she said quietly, "to please help me. Just this one last time." She blinked to stop her tears from falling. "Please?"

Clay groaned and his hands smacked the water. How did he get himself into scrapes like this? He turned toward Kelly Jo. No, he hadn't gotten himself into anything. She had done this. But right now she looked so vulnerable, so frightened, he found it hard to offer anything but a soft word of assurance. He didn't like it, but he knew what he had to do.

"You'll have to tell me everything you know about the houses, including which is the one most likely to have what we need."

Two minutes later, Clay pulled off his sopping socks and was making his way through the woods and back to the road in the rapidly descending dusk.

Wearing nothing but his very uncomfortable wet boxers.

Chapter Thirteen

Clay made good progress through the woods, but stopped every few yards. To pull the wedge of wet boxers from his butt and to gently tug wet boxer material away from where it tightly, clammily, conformed to delicate front areas.

He couldn't remember ever being so uncomfortable, so unfixably chilly in areas not used to such treatment. From his short curlies to his other part, which threatened, if exposed to further maltreatment, to go from its normally long and straight to short and curled under. It wanted to hide from this unwarranted, very rude assault, no doubt about it.

As Clay walked, always cognizant of where he placed his bare feet on the leaf-and-debris strewn path, he tried not to think of Kelly Jo, of what, despite his haste, would be a lengthy stay for her in that cold water. He squinted toward the sky. Sundown wasn't real far away. He had, at most, an hour and a half to find something for each of them to wear and get back to the creek.

He guffawed. He had an hour and a half only if there was no dog involved. Clay knew he shouldn't grin at the memory of Kelly Jo's drenching. He didn't care. It spread ear-to-ear as the memory filled and warmed his brain.

"Ouch!" he cried and grabbed his left foot. He'd been so busy reliving his enjoyment of Kelly Jo's losing end of the canine encounter he hadn't watched where he was going and stepped onto a burr.

He stopped, muttering under his breath as he jerked the burr from his foot and threw it with much more force than necessary. It hadn't drawn blood, but it sure hurt like the dickens. He placed his fingers on the bottom of his foot and had just started to rub it when the hair on the back of his neck stood up in warning.

Too late.

Clay lowered his foot to the ground just as a boy of about thirteen, his rifle pointed toward the ground, stepped from behind one the trees ahead of him.

Clay blew out a breath and smiled at the unsmiling boy, but knew even a young teen would find it strange that he was wandering the woods in wet boxers.

"Hi there," Clay called.

Silence.

Clay attempted an easy laugh, but it sounded forced even to him. "I went swimming and a raccoon ran off with my clothes. I need to get to one of the nearby houses to..." he cleared his throat..."borrow...something to wear."

The boy didn't change expression. "I saw you."

Clay blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"I saw you. You and that girl."

"You saw what?" Clay questioned slowly. "Saw us swimming?" How could he possibly respond if the boy said he saw Clay throw the painting out into the creek and then rescue its female content?

"I found our door open when I came home and I'm betting it's 'cause Scooter chased you out of the house. I tracked you to the creek."

Clay studied him. "You're home alone?"

The boy tightened his grip on the rifle and Clay hastily added, "I didn't mean anything by that, just that I'm sure you don't live by yourself."

"My mom and dad went to Covey's Creek."

Clay sighed. "That's where I'm supposed to be."

"You and her?"

Clay stared at him. "Her?"

"That naked girl over there behind the tree."

It took only a second for Clay to fully understand the implication of the young boy's words. It wasn't that he saw one nearly naked man and one very naked young woman. It was that he saw them. Both of them.

They had returned to human form.

That couldn't be good news.

Chapter Fourteen

"What?" Clay jerked his head in the direction the boy pointed and saw nothing. Then Kelly Jo slowly stuck her head from behind the tree, a forced, bright smile pasted squarely on her face.

"What are you doing?" he demanded. "How long have you been back there?"

"Not long," she said evasively.

"Kelly Jo..." Clay warned.

"Oh, okay," she exploded, still hugging the tree. "I didn't want to stay there alone. It's a little spooky," she said, then glared at him. "And shame on you for leaving me at the creek all alone."

"You're insane," he informed her flatly. "First you browbeat me into walking around soaked, in my boxers, to find clothes, and now you're ticked because I left you sitting in the water." He threw his hands in the air and shouted, "There is no way to get it right, is there?"

Kelly Jo opened her mouth to protest, but Clay, in surprise, turned toward the giggling young boy.

"You sound just like my dad," the youth told him. He looked at Kelly Jo. "And you sound like my mom."

Kelly Jo sniffed. "I'm hardly old enough to be your mother."

Clay watched Kelly Jo. She might be hiding behind a tree, but she was plenty cold, even if she had controlled her teeth chattering.

He turned toward the boy who was nearly as tall as him and held out his hand. "My name is Clay and this is Kelly Jo," he said warmly, hoping to get the boy's trust.

"I'm Wylie," the boy answered.

"Like the coyote?" Kelly Jo asked.

Clay turned to stare at her. "What's wrong with you?"

Wylie shrugged. "That's okay. I get that a lot." He glanced at Kelly Jo. "Mostly from girls."

Clay's attention returned to Wylie and in what he hoped was a sign of comraderie, rolled his eyes as though to say, "Girls!"

Wylie grinned.

Clay tried to be inconspicuous when he again tugged his boxers from his butt, but he heard Kelly Jo snicker and saw Wylie's grin widen.

Clay frowned. "Our clothes...well, it's a long story," he told Wylie. "Especially the part about Kelly Jo's," he added, his green eyes casting laughter into Kelly Jo's unamused blue ones. "But the point is, they're gone and we're on what I think is a luckless quest to replace them. Any chance you could help?"

The boy studied him with a stony look. "You mean help you break into my parent's home?"

"No!" Clay said quickly. "Nothing like that," he assured him. "Is there, maybe some clothes in your house that won't be missed, at least for a little while?" He raised one hand. "I promise I'll find a way to either get everything back to you or to replace whatever you can lend us."

Wylie looked thoughtful. "I don't know if they'll fit you." He looked thoughtful again. "But I do have an idea."

"Make sure it includes underwear," Kelly Jo called from behind the tree, and this time her voice shook from her chill.

Clay grinned, enjoying Kelly Jo's plight but still wishing she'd had the cold, clammy underwear stuck-to-and-invading every nook and cranny experience that he'd had. She deserved no less.

"Well," Wylie said when Clay again looked at him. "My parents had an argument last night and my mom put her costume in a box and took it to the attic, said she'd never put it on again because of what my dad said. I can get that for you."

Indignant, Kelly Jo said curtly, "I'm [I]not[/I] wearing a Halloween costume!"

"Why not?" Clay asked gleefully. "Truthfully, I look forward to seeing you in it."

Wylie sighed. "That's what my dad said, and that's why my mom put it away."

Puzzled, Clay said, "What?"

"It's not a Halloween costume," Wylie explained. "It was for a talent contest in Covey's Creek tonight."

"I...don't get it," Clay said.

Wylie sighed. "My mom wanted to enter the talent contest and my dad was all for it. My mom doesn't sing real well, but she's...well...my dad really liked the way she looked in her costume and wanted her to do it anyway. He said she was guaranteed the two hundred dollars prize if she did."

Clay stared at him. "Your mom can't sing and your dad told her she'd win?"

"Yeah," Wylie answered. "'cause she looked so great in the costume. That's when she got mad."

Kelly Jo threw her hair back over her shoulders, but was careful to expose nothing. "Well, that wasn't very nice of your dad," she huffed.

Wylie tried not to giggle, but did anyway. "My dad's right. My mom sings...well...it's not good. But she sure looked real good in the outfit that goes with that song from that new movie." He looked at Kelly Jo and his face reddened when he blurted, "I bet you would, too."

Curiosity got the best of Clay. "What movie, what song are you talking about?"

When Wylie answered, Kelly Jo perked up. "Wylie, if you get me that costume, I'll enter that contest tonight. Clay and I will give you half of the prize money in return for you helping us. Deal?"

Clay spun around. "Kelly Jo, I don't think..."

"Oh, shush," she informed him. "I have an idea and I'm not about to let you be the spoilsport that wrecks it."

Chapter Fifteen

Kelly Jo "shushing" Clay didn't halt him, but realization slamming into him did. New movie? Wylie had called it a new movie. That meant the year was 1978.

Clay felt himself tremble, fighting emotion. Until this moment he'd pretty much pushed the seriousness of his predicament to the back of his mind, kept there by Kelly Jo's constant need for assistance or by Robert popping in and out. Staying alert to not giving away Kelly Jo's whereabouts had gone hand-in-hand with forgetting his very real situation.

Wylie had just zoomed that situation to the front, where it screeched to a halt with a flashing neon "hello!".

Kelly Jo's voice finally cut through Clay's reverie and he realized she'd called him several times.

"Clay," she said again from behind the tree, and when his gaze rose to meet hers she asked, "Are you all right?"

He shook his head, not trusting his voice for several seconds, then cleared his throat and stated, "I'm fine."

"Well, I'm cold," she shot at him, then smiled at Wiley. "How about it? Will you get it for me?"

Wiley seemed to have sudden second thoughts about his offer. "Gee..."

Kelly Jo stamped her foot. "Clay, talk to him, please. Tell him that we're harmless, that we're friendly...that we're good people."

Clay turned to Wiley with a somber look. "She's right, Wiley. I'm all of those things and you can absolutely trust me."

Kelly Jo squealed indignantly. "Tell him you're joking, Clay," she ordered.

Clay shook his head to Wiley, green eyes laughing into delighted brown ones. "It's no joke," he stated. "I am all of those things."

"Clay!"

Clay kept his gaze on Wiley. "I can't vouch for the naked lady behind the tree. You'll have to either trust her or not trust her based on your own gut instinct."

"Clay!"

Clay was more than relieved to see that Wiley not only recognized the banter as a game, but that he thoroughly enjoyed taking part.

Wiley and Clay gave Kelly Jo's face evaluative looks.

She shot Clay a black look, then quickly turned a sweet, innocent smile to Wiley, but couldn't help throwing Clay another angry look before again affixing the sweet aren't I adorable? smile.

"What if I can't get it?" Wiley asked. "What if my mom changes her mind?"

"She won't," Kelly Jo said with finality. "Trust me, if your dad told her she'd win a talent contest based only her looks...believe me...she won't change her mind."

"But they went to town so he could make it up to her over a nice dinner. What if he talks her into doing the show?"

"He won't," Kelly Jo replied.

Clay frowned. "Why didn't you go with them?"

Wiley covered his laugh with his hand. "Dad thought he had a better chance of cooling my mom off if he got to sweet talk her alone. There's food in the fridge."

Wiley looked at Clay. "I don't know if I can find anything for you or not. I'll look."

Clay sighed and nodded. What would he do if Wiley came back with nothing for him to put on? Or didn't come back at all? Or worse, came back with the police?

"Hurry back," Kelly Jo said as Wiley lifted his rifle and started to trot off. "Don't forget underwear. And the shoes for that outfit."

"Be careful with that rifle," Clay cautioned.

Wiley's smile was sheepish. "It ain't loaded," he admitted, then hurried toward the road through the deepening shadows.

"I hope he brings underwear," Kelly Jo remarked.

"Will you stop complaining?" Clay snapped. "I've had to peel these boxers away from very delicate areas over and over, and you don't hear me whining, do you?"

Kelly Jo leaned forward, her hand around the side of the tree. "Oh, yes, indeed I did hear you whining," she let him know. "Six times you grabbed a long, skinny branch to shove down the back of your boxers and scratch whatever was biting your behind, and you stopped eleven times to pull them out of your..."

Flabbergasted, Clay yelled, "You watched? You counted?"

"Well, I had to keep an eye on you so that I didn't get too far behind," she said defensively. "I had to make sure you were going in the right direction."

Clay thought back over his trek from Covey's Creek. And seethed when he remembered. "So, then that rumbling I heard behind me wasn't just small animals or leaves rustling. It was..."

"Me," she interrupted smoothly. "Trying not to laugh out loud. Especially when you made that noise...that ahhhh of relief when you used the stick to scratch where that annoying little bug bit you."

Chapter Sixteen

Clay drew and exhaled a heavy breath of warning. "I should leave you here."

"But you won't," she informed him haughtily. "You need me."

"Wrong," he stated. "You need me. And what if I wasn't such a decent guy..."

Kelly Jo sniffed. "You mean what if you were dressed decently, don't you, because that's certainly more appropo."

She ducked behind the tree just as Robert's, "What are you doing?" sliced the air.

Clay turned, fully prepared to give up Kelly Jo to whatever awaited her from the towering angel of punishment in front of him.

Robert repeated his question, adding, "I told you to wash out your clothes if you needed...and, boy, did you need to...but I didn't think I had to tell you to put them back on. You don't plan to enter Covey's Creek like that, do you?"

Clay started to answer him, but Robert cut him off with a stern, "I can tell by your aura that you're human again, and I'll assume Kelly Jo is, also. So if you thought you could march into town semi-nude and no one would notice, let me make it clear that you're wrong."

"Of course I wouldn't do that," Clay exploded. He sent a sour glance toward the tree, a glance that Robert didn't miss. "I wouldn't..."

"Kelly Jo," Robert roared. "Come out here. Now."

Clay wanted to smirk, to do a Snoopy happy dance and chant, "Go Robert! Go Robert!" Instead, he sighed. "She's gone already."

Robert glared at him. "Gone? What does that mean?"

Clay shrugged. "It means that while I was in the water scrubbing off dog stench, somehow Kelly Jo got her hands on my pants and now I can't find them. She must have figured out that you sent me after her, to hold her for you, and she found a way to slow me down."

Robert looked at him with steady eyes. "Your pants? That doesn't explain your shirt, your socks or your shoes. Or did you feel so naked without your pants that you figured you might as well get as close as possible to being that?"

Clay flushed. "A raccoon ran off with my shirt."

Robert was unamused. "A raccoon?"

"Umm...yes."

"And did the raccoon first put on your shoes and socks, for extra speed so you couldn't catch him?"

Clay swallowed his retort and only said, "That isn't funny."

"No," Robert informed him. "It certainly isn't." He stepped closer to Clay, then leaned down into Clay's face, forcing Clay's eyes to look only into his own. "You know, Clay," Robert said quietly. "I'd hate to think that Kelly Jo has made a fool of you and you're still willing to cover up for her."

Clay wanted to blink, but kept his gaze steady on Robert's unmoving gaze. "Why would you think that?"

"Because," Robert began. "You're an easy target. A complete gentleman, easy going, repeatedly giving someone like Kelly Jo the benefit of the doubt. To the point that they make a fool of you if that's what it takes to get what they want."

Kelly Jo leaped from behind the tree, flames shooting from her eyes even as she battled to cover vital areas. "I would never do that to Clay!"

Clay and Robert both shouted, "Kelly Jo!", but each for a different reason. Why Clay cared that Kelly Jo would be snatched and returned by Robert was beyond him. But without hesitation he stepped in between them.

When Wiley's unsure, "Clay?" reached his ears, to Clay's shock, Robert instantly vanished and Kelly Jo sped for the cover of the tree.

When Wiley stepped onto the path holding a large bag, he gave Clay a look of bewilderment. "Who were you just talking to? I heard a man's voice but I don't see anybody."

Clay did his best to offer a laugh of assurance. "Oh, that. I was just practicing a ventriloquist act. I thought maybe I'd enter the contest, too."

Wiley looked at him like he was crazy, but only said, "Oh."

Clay cleared his throat and tried not to look around to see if Robert had returned but stayed out of Wiley's line of vision. "What's in the bag?"

Chapter Seventeen

Wylie held the bag out to Clay but kept glancing around, as though expecting the owner of the deep voice he'd heard to jump out from nowhere.

Clay grabbed the green garbage bag, opened it and peered inside. He sighed, then smiled at Wylie, his voice drippping relief. "Dry underwear!"

Kelly Jo's eager, "Throw me the bag, Clay," made Clay laugh.

"You can wait your turn," he informed her. He rummaged through the bag to Wylie's apologetic, "I got you some skivvies and a tee shirt out of new packs and a pair of jeans my dad outgrew, but I didn't dare take any of Dad's shoes or socks."

Clay pulled the clothes from the bag and hurried to find a spot behind a tall, private bush. "That's okay," he called to Wylie, ignoring Kelly Jo's wail of "hurry up!". "You're a life saver, Wylie, and we'll definitely pay you back."

Clay winced as he dragged the wet boxers down the length of his body, then kicked them off in favor of the brand new blue boxers Wylie had provided. He pulled the faded jeans on, blocking out Kelly Jo's irate comments about what happened to ladies first?. "Your dad's about my size, I guess, but a little heavier," he noted as he tugged on the extra inch at the waist. He pulled the white tee shirt on to a surprisingly snug fit.

He left his wet boxers where he'd kicked them and stepped out to Wylie watching him. He gave Wylie a somber look but his eyes danced despite the seriousness of his tone. Clay jerked his head toward where Kelly Jo half-crouched behind the tree. "Should we leave her here?"

"Clay," she cried. "When I get my hands on you..." she warned, then trailed off into a sheepish smile when Clay and Wylie laughed and Clay tossed the bag to her.

"Wylie's right," Clay hollered to her. "You'll look great in that outfit."

Kelly Jo stuck her hand in the bag, then ducked out of sight with the clothes. "I don't care how it looks or even if it fits. I just want to get something on."

Kelly Jo dressed in silence and even before she stepped out from behind the tree Clay knew she wasn't thrilled with the outfit.

But, oh, boy, he was.

Was he ever.

And from the way Wylie gawked, so was he.

Kelly Jo frowned and plucked at the black leather pants and jacket that clung to every curve on her body. "I don't like this."

Without thinking, Clay breathed out, "I do."

Wylie blurted, "You look better than my Mom."

Kelly Jo looked at Wylie, but when she spoke to Clay he barely heard her until she snapped, "I can't wear this. It's not...it's not...me."

Exasperated, Clay exclaimed, "That's not what you said before. You knew what Wylie was talking about and you told him to go and get it."

"I know," she admitted softly, again plucking at the leather, an unsure look on her face. "But what would...Robert say...you know...if he found me like this. I could get in trouble, you know."

Clay threw his arms in the air. "Who cares?" he demanded. "You..." he caught himself before he said something in front of Wylie that the boy would never understand. Worse, Wylie would know for sure that he and Kelly Jo really were both nuts.

Instead, Clay glared at Kelly Jo to convey, "You killed me, kidnapped me from Heaven, got stuck in a painting, have been running around buck naked, got peed on by a dog when you insisted I rob a house...and your concern is will Robert punish you for wearing a black leather outfit?"

Kelly Jo's answering look was a raised eyebrow.

Clay turned to Wylie with a flat, "We need the fastest route to Covey's Creek."

Chapter Eighteen

"Wait a minute," Kelly Jo protested. "Why are you asking him? You know that I know the way..."

Clay's withering look stopped her cold and she had the grace to blush even before he answered her. "Oh, yeah, I remember well how you left out the part of knowing the way to town when you sent me looking for Barbie clothes. So if it's all the same to you...and even if it's not...I'm asking Wylie." Clay nodded at Kelly Jo, said, "Put the shoes on," and told Wylie, "Why don't you come with us? You can meet up with your mom and dad..."

"I'll get skinned if they see me in town," Wylie told him. "Especially if they see you wearing my dad's clothes."

Clay frowned. "We'll pay him for them when I win the contest," he told the boy. "And I'll personally tell your dad that I intend to make good for this stuff."

Kelly Jo touched Clay's arm with a protesting, "Wait a minute!"

Clay turned, then sighed. "Will you put those shoes on so we can get going? I'll come up with a pair somehow when we get into town."

"Two things," she told him flatly. "One, you're not winning that contest. I am. Two, no, I won't put on those shoes. I'm not walking that far over rough ground in heels."

"We don't have time to fool around," Clay informed her in a no nonsense tone. "I'm sure you have a nice little voice, Kelly Jo, and there's no doubt that you'll knock everybody dead in that outfit..." he stopped, his throat drying as his gaze did a slow walk over her form. "But we can't take the chance of not winning...we promised Wylie to pay..."

Kelly Jo stared at Clay. "A nice little voice?" She shook her head, but her eyes widened in disbelief and her voice shook with indignation. "You've got some crust on you, Clay! When did you hear me sing and make the judgment that our chances are better if you sing?"

Clay threw a quick glance at Wylie and he felt his face redden when he again looked at a very ticked off Kelly Jo. "I didn't," he admitted. "But, well...I did do pretty well for myself as a singer..."

"How do you know that I didn't?" she demanded.

Well, she certainly had him there. All he could answer was, "I don't."

"Then let's stop wasting time with this dumb argument and get moving," she snapped.

Kelly Jo grabbed the bag in a huff, tossed in the black, backless heels and started marching down the road to follow the winding river shortcut into Covey's Creek, her long blonde curls bouncing on the shoulders of and down the back of the black leather jacket.

Clay and Wylie exchanged looks, then Clay shrugged but hurried to catch up with Kelly Jo. She pulled the bag away from his grasp when he tried to take it from her and he raised his hands in conciliation.

They walked in silence.

Wylie had no difficulty keeping pace with them.

If any of them remembered Wylie saying he didn't dare encounter his parents no one said a word. Two sets of male eyes tried not to watch Kelly Jo's unintentional hip sway as the threesome walked toward the water.

Clay drew in, then blew out a deep breath, losing the battle to not watch Kelly Jo's sensual, hypnotic movements ahead of him.

He had a feeling he'd need to constantly envision the cold water of Covey's Creek to keep down a steadily rising heat.