He shook his head, and brushed hair off her forehead so he could plant a tender kiss at her temple. “No. None of that is true. That’s why you can’t believe what you saw on the covers of those gossip rags. There hasn’t been anyone since you.”
Jesus. He was probably a schmuck for admitting that, but it was true. And he wanted her to know it.
Several creases formed across her forehead. “But—”
He placed an index finger over her lips to silence her. “Sex has to mean something to me.” He chuckled. “At least it did after I met you. Being with you changed me. After you, I never wanted to be with random girls, and I especially didn’t want groupies.”
“Oh,” she whispered. “Why do I find that so attractive?”
He gave her a naughty grin. “I’d rather service myself than be with women who mean nothing to me.”
The blush that spread up her neck and over her face was adorable as hell. Then she went up on her toes and laid a smokin’ hot kiss on him that stole his breath. Her fingers unbuttoned his shirt, sliding over his abs.
He hissed out a breath when she slipped her hands around to his back and her nails dug into his flesh. “Shit, that’s good.”
His hips pressed into her again, and she ground against him. Once, twice. Three times, until he was sure he’d lose his mind. Still fully clothed, their hips picked up speed, moving and thrusting until he could tell by her soft moans, her desperate whimpers, the way his name tumbled through her lips on a frenzied whisper, that she was close.
He was happy to take her where she wanted to go, fully clothed and all.
He was in the hospitality business, after all. Nice guy that he was, he’d make sure she was a satisfied customer.
The door jingled, and they bolted apart.
Hailey smoothed a trembling hand over her messy hair, then brushed them across her lips, swollen from his punishing kisses.
Hailey’s mother was standing there with thinned lips and a pinched look.
And with her was a little girl with big black eyes, dark hair, and an olive complexion.
Much like his.
“Mommy, why is that man’s shirt unbuttoned?” The little girl pointed to him.
“I was working on your mom’s plumbing!” Dylan half shouted.
Jesus Christ.
“What’s your name?” The little girl didn’t wait for him to answer. “My name’s Melody.”
His jaw hit the floor. Melody? As in the musical kind?
“Mommy, can I get a puppy now?” Melody tugged on her grandmother’s hand. “Grammy said she’d help us potty train it.”
Dylan let his gaze slide to Hailey.
She chewed the corner of her mouth, and he didn’t find it quite so adorable or cute anymore.
“We need to talk,” he said. Because he had a question or two that needed answers.
Chapter Six
The clock’s chime at Shear Elegance mocked her. Every minute that ticked by until Hailey had to meet Dylan for the talk was pure torture. After he’d met Melody last night, his words—we have to talk—haunted her.
She’d managed to put him off until tonight, only because Mel and her mother had been in the room, and it wasn’t a talk she could have in front of her daughter. But Hailey had promised to go by Joe’s after she finished seeing clients, since the plumbing was finally fixed and Dylan could open for full-service dining again.
Hence the reason Karma—the cruel little bitch—was stalking her.
She brushed highlights into a brunette’s hair while Brianna applied a relaxer to a blonde’s thick, curly locks.
Both clients talked to each other and to Brianna, because Hailey hadn’t felt too chatty. How could she? The look in Dylan’s eyes had morphed from shock, to disbelief, and finally anger.
All the reasons Hailey had chosen not to tell him about Melody six years ago. He’d made it clear he didn’t want kids. Didn’t want strings. Didn’t want her. The look in his eyes last night said nothing had changed.
So, she’d stayed up all night, forming a plan. A plan to protect her daughter from feeling unwanted. From feeling like an obligation. Hailey grew up with insecurities because of her father making her feel as though she was an unwanted obligation, and she wouldn’t allow Melody to suffer the same fate. Since Hailey was a teenager, it had taken every ounce of courage to keep up the façade that she was self-confident and self-assured. She wasn’t going to upset the secure world she was building for her daughter, when Dylan’s reaction last night had confirmed that he was appalled at the prospect that Mel might be his.
He hadn’t said so with Mel standing right there, but he didn’t have to say a word. His reaction had said it all.
And Hailey’s mother…
The second Dylan said we have to talk, her mother had known.
And explaining that one to her mom hadn’t been the least bit awkward.
Oy.
When Hailey was finished with her client, she rang her up, scheduled her next appointment, and sent her on her way with a smile.
Double oy.
It was hard to smile when her whole world might come falling down and Melody would suffer for it.
As she and Brianna cleaned up the salon for the night, the doorbell jingled, and Hailey’s mom stepped inside with Melody in tow.
Right on time.
“Aunt Jenny!” Brianna went over and kissed Hailey’s mom on the cheek. Then Brianna bent and tweaked Melody’s nose. “And you, little princess. What are you up to?”
Mel bounced on the balls of her feet. “I’m going to eat with mommy and Uncle Logan at Hoe’s.”
“That’s Joe’s, baby girl,” Hailey corrected.
Brianna chuckled. “Who’s Uncle Logan?”
Hailey took off her apron and threw it in the bin. “My buddy from the salon I worked for in Albuquerque. He’s driving up for a quick overnight visit.” Logan was tall, dark, and extremely handsome. He was also very masculine and one hundred percent gay, but no one in Red River needed to know that.
Hailey was lucky to have a friend like him who had her back.
Who was willing to save her ass.
“Well, you have fun and order something good for dessert.” Brianna gave Melody a hug.
The door opened and Logan stepped inside with all of his Puerto Rican good looks and alpha male swagger. “Hola, mi amor!”
“Speak of the hot and handsome devil!” Hailey flew into his arms. “I’ve missed you.”
“I saw you last week before you moved,” Logan deadpanned.
She pinched his cheek. “A few days away from your Latin charm feels like years.”
“You’re so good for my ego.” Logan turned his big onyx eyes on Mel and scooped her up. “And you! You’ve grown a foot since I saw you last week.”
Melody giggled and threw her arms around his neck.
Perfect.
They could pass as father and daughter.
And Hailey wouldn’t have to lie, because she wasn’t at all certain she could if Dylan asked the million dollar question: was Dylan Mel’s biological father?
* * *
Dylan had been working his tail off behind the long bar all day. Joe’s was jumping now that they had running water again and could open for business.
At least he wouldn’t have to cancel the songwriter’s festival.
The hole in the wall was still creating quite a stir around town, and everyone in the county had shown up to eat, drink, and hear the story about the fire engine and its wayward water hose.
Dylan had placed Uncle Joe on a stool at the end of the bar and let him have at it. Joe could spin a tale like none other, and the locals loved him for it. Plus, Dylan wasn’t in a storytelling mood.
All he could think about was what Hailey would say once she showed up for their little chat. The hours had ticked by slower than, say, getting a plumber in Red River to fix a faulty water line.
He still hadn’t processed all the emotions that had hit him like a train last nig
ht after meeting Hailey’s daughter. She had his dark features, and her age—if he did the math—would be about right.
He filled an order of draft beers and handed them off to a server before moving on to the next order. As he mixed an Old Fashioned and a Whiskey Sour, his movements were mechanical and robotic.
Could Hailey’s daughter be…
He still couldn’t bring himself to think the actual word.
He’d never wanted kids. Mainly because he’d probably suck at being a father. His old man certainly hadn’t been much of an example. Not a positive one, anyway. Joe had been a great role model and father figure, but Dylan had never wanted to chance being the disappointment his own father had been. Never wanted to hand down that kind of awful legacy.
But now that fatherhood was a distinct possibility, he was excited. Scared. And mad as hell that Hailey had never told him.
The name Melody couldn’t be a coincidence. Could it?
Hell.
He raked a hand down his face, then grabbed the next order, reading the ticket. “Three margaritas coming right up,” he said to the server.
As he sat them on a tray, Hailey walked in, followed by a big and built Hispanic dude.
Dylan’s heart beat in a sickly rhythm.
The big dude carried Melody in his arms. Their complexion, hair, and eyes were identical, and she clung to him like a little girl would her…father.
Disappointment pressed in on him until he thought his chest would explode from the weight of it.
He swallowed, letting his gaze follow the cute little family as they claimed a booth. When the guy balanced a spoon on his nose and crossed his eyes, Melody fell out in a loud belly-laugh that had Dylan choking back an emotion he didn’t know he possessed.
Envy.
Hailey looked so happy. So did her daughter. And so did the rat-fink bastard who had swooped in and claimed the family Dylan thought—for the last twenty-four hours—might be his.
Which made him the biggest prick in history, because if Melody had a dad who made her smile and laugh with joy, Dylan should be happy for her.
He was happy for her.
He just wasn’t happy for himself, which made no sense whatsoever.
He busied himself behind the bar, cranking out orders. Easy come, easy go. He couldn’t lose something he’d never had. Something that wasn’t his to begin with.
If time had slowed to the pace of a sloth before Hailey walked in, it was at a dead standstill now.
Their laughter, their happiness…Dylan wouldn’t let it get to him.
He wouldn’t.
Kimberly Perez, an attorney who lived in Taos but spent a lot of time in Red River with her friends—Doc Holloway and his wife, Angelique—saddled up to the bar. “Hey, cutie.” She winked playfully. She was a flirt, but it was harmless flirting, so Dylan played along.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he said. Kimberly was attractive with a petite figure and cleavage as deep as the Atlantic, but gorgeous wasn’t a word one would typically use when referring to Kimberly. Her wardrobe was, to put it bluntly, atrocious.
Dylan was no fashion guru, but even he knew her skin-tight leopard shirt, purple leggings, silver Ugg boots, and spiked, bleached blonde hair wouldn’t earn her an appearance on Project Runway.
“Mind if I sit here?” she asked.
“The seat has your name on it.” Dylan flashed her a smile, thankful for the distraction. And whadya know? From the corner of his eye, he saw Hailey finally look in his direction and still. “What can I get you?” He braced both elbows against the bar and leaned in closer to Kimberly.
“A husband?” she teased.
He picked up her hand and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “I’m available,” he joked right back.
She snorted. “You’re too young for me, and I’m not a cougar. Plus, I’m never getting married. I’d suck at it. In fact, I wouldn’t wish me on my worst enemy.”
“Why would a nice person like you get so down on yourself?” he asked. “You’re smart, you’re funny, and—”
“And I’m eccentric.” She tugged at her spiked hair. “But since I’m not on the market, I don’t really care what I look like.”
“You’re fine just the way you are. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.” Dylan tossed a towel over his shoulder. “Since I can’t help out in the husband department, how about a drink on the house?”
“Since you’re offering.” Kimberly gave him a coy grin. “How about a Sex on the Beach so I can live vicariously through my drink?”
He laughed. “Sex on the Beach, coming right up.”
As he mixed the drink, he glanced in Hailey’s direction. She wasn’t laughing anymore, and her smile was pasty and thin.
Kimberly sat at the bar for well over an hour, chatting with him while he worked.
As a server cleared away their empty plates, Hailey shot a nervous glance in his direction, looking away the second she and Dylan made eye contact.
Finally, Hailey stood to go. Big Guy tossed some bills on the table and stood, too, taking Melody in his arms again. Must’ve been past her bedtime because she laid her head on his shoulder and closed her droopy eyes. He carried her out of the restaurant, but Hailey split off and headed toward the bar.
“Dylan,” she greeted him.
“Hailey.” He kept a neutral tone that matched hers.
“Hi,” Kimberly butted in, her words slightly slurred. “I’m Kimberly. Dylan here offered to marry me.”
He filled a glass of ice water and set it in front of her. “What are friends for? You said you were looking for a husband. Besides, I only offered because I knew you’d shoot me down,” he teased.
Hailey blinked slowly. Once. Twice. “It’s nice to meet you, Kimberly.” Her tone was stiff.
“Haven’t seen you around before. You new in town?” Kimberly asked.
Hailey folded her arms. “I guess it depends on who you ask.” She flashed a forced smile at him. “Some folks, like Ross over at the mechanic’s shop, still think of me as a local. Others not so much.”
Dylan gave her a pointed look.
“Ross,” Kimberly murmured, then stared off into dreamy-land. “I could never get a guy like Ross.” Kimberly hicupped and covered her mouth with her fingertips.
“I’m cutting you off.” Dylan slid her empty hurricane glass out of reach.
Hailey relaxed, but her pasty smile disappeared, replaced by a frown. “Of course you can.”
Kimberly scoffed and waved a hand over her flamboyant clothing. “Are you blind? I’m a weirdo misfit who will die alone.”
Jesus. Kimberly was a prominent attorney with a reputation throughout the Southwest for representing abused women and children who’d been dumped into the system. Someone really did a number on her to get an intelligent, well-educated woman with a drop-dead figure like hers to think so little of herself. Dylan was just about to ask who the asshole was when Hailey reached into her purse and withdrew a card.
She handed it to Kimberly. “My salon is right next door. Call me. You won’t be disappointed, I promise. Your first appointment is on me.”
“Thanks.” Kimberly bolted out of her chair and hugged Hailey. “Now I need to go to sleep.”
Dylan whistled and waved to one of the servers who was due to get off work in an hour. “Can you go ahead and take off now? Kimberly needs a ride, and I’ll still pay you for the extra hour.”
Once they were as alone in the crowded room as they could be, he said, “Thanks. It’s nice of you to help out Kimberly. She’s a good person, and I don’t like seeing friends hate on themselves.”
“Helping women find their inner beauty is my gift,” Hailey said. “It’s the reason I chose my profession, and it’s the reason I love my job.” She chewed the corner of her mouth. “So, what did you want to talk about?”
Everything. Starting with why she never married Big Guy if he made her so damn happy when they were together.
He drew in a breath, studied her, and
finally shook his head. “It was nothing. Never mind.”
Chapter Seven
Sunday afternoon, Hailey parked next to the curb in front of the salon and retrieved a large hamper full of freshly laundered towels and smocks from the trunk of her Subaru. As she schlepped the hamper toward the front door, she wished she felt as bright and happy as the entire town seemed to now that spring had officially sprung.
Her mission had been accomplished. Dylan hadn’t asked about Mel’s father once he’d seen her with Logan.
So why did she feel so rotten she should be gathering flies?
She glared at a patch of purple and yellow flowers that had sprouted through a crack in the sidewalk. The cheerful flowers stood straight and tall, as though they were reaching for the sky and basking in the sunlight.
As she stepped over the flowers, she stuck her tongue out at them. Never mind that she scolded her daughter for doing that very thing.
Her mom was taking Melody to a flea market in the park, so to stay Hailey’s dark mood, she’d decided to take advantage of her one day off and check their inventory, then send out reorder emails for the necessary stock.
She put the basket down and unlocked the front door. Then she turned around and drug the heavy laundry inside.
Beautiful whistling caressed her ears.
Made her spine go ramrod straight.
Caused bumps to rise on her arms.
Oy.
Slowly, she turned around, and yep, Dylan was working on sealing the hole in the brick wall.
A black T-shirt dangled from his back pocket, and a fine sheen of perspiration made his bare shoulders glisten under the fluorescent lights.
How could he make sweaty, manual labor look so mouthwateringly sexy?
The goose bumps prickling her skin were replaced by electric heat that skated over her and lit up every nerve in her body.
“Morning.” His back to her, he used a trowel to smooth mortar onto the top layer of the wall, and then he laid another brick.
“What are you doing?” Okay, her tone sounded like she was demanding an answer. Actually, she was, because she’d never seen a worse carpentry job in her life.
It’s In His Song: Book 6 Page 7