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Page 40

by Madden-Mills, Ilsa


  “Either way, we can always use another fine piece—”

  “Uh, I’m so sorry I stopped like that; I’m glad you’re okay.” I interrupt her before she says any more.

  “Oh, if I’d been looking where I was going, I would have seen ya,” she says.“This your fella?” she asks.

  I glance at Hayes; he’s grinning from ear to ear. My heart flutters. He’s a goddamn dangerous combination of overbearing and sweet.

  I’m addicted to him.

  I get near him and I lose my mind. I miss being his woman and everything that comes with it and I’m so close to giving him whatever he asks for. Close. But …

  I smile serenely and say, “Not quite,” to Sally. His hand tightens around my middle.

  “Well, if you’re not sure …” She gives Hayes a suggestive sidelong glance and wink.

  I laugh.

  She looks back at me with an indignant glare. “Honey, if I was just twenty years younger, you wouldn’t be able to fight me for him. They don’t make men like this anymore. I suggest you get sure real quick.” She winks and strides off into the restaurant.

  “Yeah. Get sure quick, Tesoro.” Hayes’s lips brush my ear, and his breath makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and my insides quiver. His hand slides along my waist and comes to rest on my abdomen. It takes up almost the entire space, and when he pulls me back into him, I feel like I’m melting.

  “I miss you touching me, baby.” I let my head fall back and rest on his shoulder.

  “Hayes Garfield Rivers, you are in public!” An irate voice from ahead of us breaks the trance and we jump apart.

  “Gigi,” Hayes says and steps around me toward the dark haired, hazel-eyed beauty who but for the fact that he called her his aunt, I would never believe was old enough to be.

  She glares at him. “Don’t you dare use that voice on me, Hayes,” she scolds even as she throws her arms open to welcome his hug. I watch as she embraces him, smacks his shoulders and then wraps her arms around him. He lifts her off her feet. Her eyes, closed from the instant they touch, pop open and they’re assessing and shrewd as they run over me from head to toe. She’s dressed in a navy skirt topped with a white tailored shirt with a patent-leather, nude-colored belt cinched around her Audrey Hepburnesque waist. Suddenly, my cut-off shorts feel both too casual and too short. My white camisole, too revealing and my flip-flops, downright disrespectful.

  When our eyes meet, I smile my best smile and thank God I tied my unruly hair back so that at least I don’t look completely unkempt. My shoulders sag with relief when a smile—warm and real—blooms across her face.

  She disengages herself from Hayes and comes toward me, arms outstretched. “Well, Hayes, look what you did. She’s as pretty as a picture,” she says to him as she wraps me in a hug that smells and feels like comfort and love. It makes me long for my mother. I wish she could see this place.

  “I’m Gigi, Confidence,” she says warmly. “I think we’re going to be great friends.” She hooks an arm through mine.

  * * *

  Hayes doesn’t let go of my hand when I try to tug it free of his. He draws it into his lap and holds it there with the other one on top of it. I look at him to demand it back, but my words die on my lips.

  He’s laughing at something his aunt just said. His head is thrown back, his teeth gleaming, his eyes closed, and I can envision my future. What life could feel like if I spent it with him. Happy, holding hands, with family who fusses, but forgives. In nice suburban cafes that smell like bread and coffee. And where everyone is welcome, especially me. So, I don’t pull my hand back. Instead, I squeeze his and rejoin the conversation just as our server comes and takes our orders.

  Hayes jumps slightly and then lets go of my hand.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask. My hand feels cold without his sandwiching it. He fishes into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out his phone.

  “I’m sorry, I’ve got to take this. I’ve been expecting this call for two days,” he says. He slides out of the booth and strides toward the entrance.

  I watch him go. His sky-blue polo neck T-shirt bunches across his broad shoulders as he turns to squeeze between the tightly packed tables. His jeans sit low on his hips and hug that fine ass of his.

  “I don’t blame you, sister,” Sally calls from a couple of tables ahead of us.

  I jump slightly and blush at being caught ogling. I look at Gigi and smile. She doesn’t smile back. In fact, the friendly light in her eyes disappears completely. My throat convulses in surprise and dread.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask.

  “I need to ask you some things, right now before Hayes comes back,” Gigi says the minute he’s out of earshot.

  “Okay ...” I say and glance toward the door at Hayes.

  “I have a check in my purse for one million dollars. If I gave it to you, would you leave and never bother Hayes again?” she asks.

  Shock renders me paralyzed. I think if she whistled, the air she pushed out would knock me over.

  “What?” I ask, offended, incredulous and for some reason, a little afraid.

  “I could go up to three million. And I will. If you’ll take it,” she says.

  Her expression is completely neutral. I can’t believe she can be so calm after what she just said.

  “Are you kidding me? Why would you even …?”

  “Name your price,” she says.

  My heart slows to a hard, slow thud.

  “What?”

  “I’ll give it to you. If you’ll take it,” she says slowly, like there’s something she’s trying to tell me without saying it directly. But my blood is boiling and I don’t have the time or inclination for her games.

  “I most certainly will not,” I say and grab my phone from the table and reach to pick up my purse.

  She puts a hand over mine to steady it.

  “I’m sorry if that offended you. But it’s not personal,” she says.

  “As if it could be anything but personal,” I say without a thought for who I’m talking to.

  “Confidence, Hayes is all that’s left of my family. He’s also, underneath that shell he wears, desperate for a place where he feels like he belongs. I will use my money, I will lie, I will offend, and I will do whatever to help him find it. After what he’s gone through with that ex-wife—” she says unapologetically.

  I lose my cool.

  “I bet you never offered her money to leave him alone, did you? Why? Because she wasn’t a nobody from nowhere, right?” I say angrily. I throw my napkin onto the table and lean in so that I can lower my voice. I am not going to let her bullshit ruin this lunch for Hayes. I glance over my shoulder and see him pacing in front of the restaurant, deep in conversation. I turn back to his aunt.

  “That woman is criminally idiotic. I can assure you that I am not. Money is nice. But I don’t want more of it than I need,” I tell her.

  “Yeah, right,” she says dismissively.

  “I know it’s hard to imagine people not worshiping the same money god as you do,” I say.

  “How dare you?” she asks.

  “How dare you?” I shoot right back. “You could have just asked me how I feel about him.” I’m angry and surprised by the sting of tears in the back of my eyes.

  “Oh, I don’t need to ask to know it’s obvious. But in my experience, love isn’t ever enough, so I want to know what else you want from Hayes.”

  “I don’t have to prove myself to you,” I say indignantly.

  “You’re right,” she says crisply, her eyes narrowing on me. “But, let me tell you, If any of the things you think he’s good for are comfort or financial security, then that will prove itself, too. I’m just trying to save us all a little time and a lot of heartbreak,” she says coolly.

  I don’t know whether to storm off or hug her.

  “Gigi?” Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the gentle deference in my voice.

  “May I call you that?” I ask.

&
nbsp; “Of course, you may,” she says archly.

  I nod and smile politely. Then, I take off the gloves.

  “You’ve known him his whole life and you’re still putting a price tag on him. And I’ve only known him for four months, and I already know he’s priceless,” I snarl.

  “How dare you?” she gasps.

  “You’re going to have to stop saying that. I dare because no one is in charge of me but me.” I point at my chest. “Yes, I want him to spoil me,” I say, and she smirks knowingly. I wipe it right back off. “With respect, loyalty, and free and exclusive access to his glorious body. But, I can finance myself,” I say through gritted teeth.

  “Well then, why are you two doing this dance where you’re not together? What are you holding out for?” she asks in frustration. I can see how much she loves Hayes; I can see how worried she really is for him. So, I decide to ignore her disrespectful questions and innuendos and put her mind at ease.

  I sigh and search for the right words to describe Hayes and me right now.

  “I love Hayes. More than I’ve ever loved another man. Ever. But, we’re in a really weird place. He hurt me, and I’m trying to forgive him. Forgiveness doesn’t come easily to me. But I’m trying,” I tell her.

  And I am. I know he said what he did before he knew me. But honestly, I’m bothered by the fact that he would say it at all. My parents didn’t do a lot right by me. But, they raised me in a place where I was surrounded by a lot of other people who did do right by me. I wouldn’t be who I am today without those people. They are my family. Even though I’m not there, that town, its people, and its future is the wind beneath my wings. I love them. I take my role as their daughter, sister, friend seriously.”

  “What happened?” she asks.

  “He insulted me,” I say.

  “So?” she asks.

  “So, when someone insults me, I feel like they’re insulting the people I love, too. And I won’t let anyone do that. Not even the man I want to spend the rest of my life with,” I say to her.

  “The rest of your life?” She gasps. “Are you …?” Her throat bobs.

  “No, not yet,” I say. “But he loves me. I will forgive him because I can’t live without him,” I confess and my heart flutters as I say it out loud for the first time. I am certain of those things and they are the reason I’m here.

  She grabs my hand across the table and her eyes shine with tears.

  “Oh, my dear,” she says. I snatch my hand back.

  “No,” I shake my head. “I’m not your dear,” I say plainly.

  She pales a little.

  “I know you were just trying to protect him. But have some faith in his judgment. And be honest with me. I hope this is just the beginning of our relationship. We should begin as we mean to go on. If you play games with me, we can be relatives, but never friends. I would much rather be friends, so please just say what you mean. And mean what you say,” I ask.

  I watch her face and wait for her to respond. I hold my breath, very aware that I may have just made an enemy out of the one relative Hayes seems to hold in high regard. Besides his brothers.

  She stares at me in complete disbelief for a full minute. I start preparing to explain to Hayes why I made his aunt cry or storm off or throw water in my face. Then, she lets out a hoot of laughter that sends several heads turning in our direction.

  “Well, will you look at that,” she says, tears in her eyes and a huge grin on her face.

  “Look at what?” I ask.

  “He found you,” she says and digs into her food with gusto.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Laid Bare

  Hayes

  “Tell me about your aunt,” Confidence asks as soon as we’ve parted ways with Gigi. The question stumps me for a second. Not because I don’t want to talk about her, but because I’d already moved on to what I wanted to show her.

  “I want to hear more about her,” Confidence says, and my heart warms because she sounds like she really means it.

  “She’s everything. The reason I don’t have issues. The reason I can accept and give love. She took me in when no one else wanted me. And she put up with my shit and hasn’t held it against me,” I say and smile as I think about the way Gigi and I knocked heads when we first met.

  “You love her,” she says it like it’s a question.

  “Of course, I do,” I say and pull her down one alley off Rivers Wilde’s main street.

  “Come on, I want to show you something.”

  “What are we doing here?” she asks as we step out on the other side and onto a footpath that leads to The Oaks.

  “I’m picking up my gate passes and my car. I want to show you my house.”

  * * *

  “You bought this house?” Confidence gasps when we step inside the two-story foyer of the red brick house nestled in between a row of other two-story red brick houses that make up this picturesque cul-de-sac on Wildetree Lake.

  “Yes, I bought this house,” I respond and take her hand and start for the stairs. “When you see the view from the master bedroom upstairs, you’ll see why,” I tell her, and my excitement builds with each step up the staircase.

  “This is beautiful, Hayes,” she says and glances around the house. I follow her gaze, and I have to agree. About a tenth of the size of Rivers House, this is a house that already feels like home.

  “I like it,” I say, intentionally noncommittal.

  “Like? How can you just like it?” she screeches and pulls her hand out of mine. She runs it up the Cherrywood stair rails and sighs. “It’s like the dream house on my Pinterest board,” she says.

  “Is it?” I ask.

  But I know it is. She showed me the first time I went to visit her. When I saw the pictures of this place on my realtor’s site, I knew I was going to buy it. When I came to visit for the first time, I knew right away that this would be my home. Now, I hope she’s going to feel the same way.

  “I want to show you something and then I want to tell you something and then I want you to be as mad as you want about it. But when you’re done, I’m fucking you. And when we leave this house later, we’re going to be back together.”

  Her eyes widen and her jaw drops before she composes herself. “Hayes …” she starts, her voice full of fight. I yank her to me and kiss her quiet. Her lips soften and her arms slip around my neck and she kisses me back like she’s been missing it as much as I have.

  It feels so good, but I force myself to stop kissing her.

  Her eyes are glazed with desire; her plump lips pout when I pull back. “I’ve told you about that caveman shit,” she grumbles, but nestles into me.

  “Yeah, you told me.” I press a kiss to the top of her head and wrap my arms around her.

  “But, that’s what I become when I think about you. You’re mine and I’m not going to act like you’re not. Not for one more day.” I breathe in a good whiff of her hair that’s tickling my nose. She smells like sunflowers and rain. So clean and bright and strong.

  “Come on.” I put an arm around her waist and lead her to the bedroom.

  It, along with the rest of the house, is fully furnished and decorated.

  “This room is kind of …” Confidence looks around and searches for the right word to describe the explosion of white, yellow, and peach that is my bedroom. “I would say feminine, but that feels like a massive understatement.” She laughs and looks around.

  “Do you really sleep in that bed?” She points at the white, four-poster bed with yellow drapes flowing from the top of it.

  “Gigi took my ‘do whatever you want’ too literally,” I explain. “But don’t worry, baby, I plan on getting rid of it before you move in,” I say.

  “Hayes, give you an inch …” she says.

  “Oh, Tesoro, by the time we leave this house tonight …” I look at my watch and note that it says eleven a.m., “I would have taken ten miles and put in a request for another hundred. You can say no, but I want you to l
ook me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me. Because that is the only way I’ll let you go,” I tell her.

  She dips her head and hides her face, but I know my girl. She always puts a lock of hair between her lips and presses them together when she’s happy but doesn’t want to show it. She’s holding the end of her ponytail between her fingers and is holding it to her mouth for a moment before she looks up.

  “And you need to stop telling me what’s going to happen and how I’m going to feel and what you’re going to do with me,” she says irritably.

  I’ve pushed enough for now, and in a few minutes, I’m going to have a real battle on my hands, so I change the subject and steer us to the big bay window at the back of the bedroom.

  “Look.” I point over her shoulder into the distance.

  “Oh wow, we can see all the way to the Habitat for Humanity project site.” She puts her hand on her throat.

  “Have you been out there yet?” I ask.

  “Yeah, once. Just this week. I think it’s awesome that Wilde World is giving up that parcel of land for its development,” she says, and I smile.

  “That’s not Wilde World’s land,” I say as nonchalantly as I can.

  “Yes, it is. It shares the wall with Rivers Wilde,” she argues.

  “I know. You know that the land Rivers Wilde is built on all used to belong to my family, right?” I ask.

  “All of it?” she asks.

  “Yes, all of it. That land beyond the wall,” I say and point to the short stone wall that was built to divide the land. “All of that still belongs to us,” I inform her.

  “What?” she turns around to face me. “You own all of that? Habitat for Humanity is building on your land?” she asks.

  “No, they’re building on their land. I donated it to them. Nearly fifty percent of what’s left. One thousand acres for their project,” I say.

 

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