“Mr Cross, your table,” the young woman announces, her tone showcasing how uncomfortable our stare off is.
“Yes, um, sorry,” he replies, walking over and pulling the chair out for me. It’s right by the window, giving me a beautiful view of the lake. I arch my eyebrow at his kind gesture. “I can be a gentleman, Hayden.”
“I didn’t say anything,” I muse, finding it hard to cool my libido.
“Let me take your coat,” he offers, stepping up behind me.
Well, isn’t he full of surprises.
His fingertips brush the collar of my coat. He’s not even that close, but I swear I can feel his body heat. All I want to do is step back and lean into his embrace.
Somehow, the small gesture feels sexual, like a game of foreplay. The light brush of his fingertips run along my neck, causing a fire to burn in my veins.
The back of my dress is quite low. It was the one thing he didn’t get a glimpse of when we went shopping. I love it. It gives it personality and makes me feel more like me, rather than some fake Barbie playing dress up. That and I knew it would drive him crazy.
The second the toned skin on my back is revealed, there’s a change in the room. He pauses his slow, torturous movements, leaving the coat down by my elbows, and takes a sharp intake of breath. The sound has my pulse spiking.
“My coat,” I remind him, my voice low and breathless as I glance over my shoulder.
Desire oozes from him as he snaps out of it. “Um, yes.” He reaches back for the coat, gently sliding it the rest of the way before handing it to the waitress. I take my seat, smiling when he pushes my chair in.
“Can I take your drink order? I’ll have a waitress bring them over for you.”
“Do you have Bowmore Darkest?”
“We do.”
“I’ll have one, please, and my friend will have an orange juice.”
“Right away,” she tells him, before leaving us alone.
I curl my lip. “I must have missed me telling you what I wanted to drink.”
He lets out a tiresome sigh. “Let’s not argue. I knew you’d be driving, so you weren’t going to be drinking alcohol. You litter the offices with Ribena cartons, so I knew you liked sweet drinks. From experience, I can’t see them having your choice of drink on the menu, so to save time and the embarrassment of going through the drink’s menu, I ordered for you.”
Well shit, how could I argue with that? I should be stunned that he noticed my addiction to Ribena, but all I heard was that I littered.
“Okay then,” I reply stubbornly, needing the last word.
“Let’s get on with this, shall we.”
“Let’s.”
“As you know, we have screened all applicants Date Night matched you with. It was down to three.”
“Did you Eenie, Meenie, Miney, Mo it?”
“Did we what?”
“Never mind. Continue,” I tell him, waving off his confusion.
“As for the date as a whole, you’ll introduce yourselves and go from there. Do what you would do normally. From Chrissy’s notes, you’ll be pleased with who we picked.”
He doesn’t seem pleased.
“What is his name?”
He slides his finger across the screen of the tablet he pulls out of his pocket, his forehead creasing with frown lines. “I’m not sure. It doesn’t look like Chrissy sent over the documents stating his name.”
“Tell me about him. I’m guessing he’s read my file, so it’s only fair.”
He clears his throat. “He owns a successful business, and has recently shared his duties with another member of his staff so he isn’t working the long hours anymore.
“Family is important to him, which is what you put on your questionnaire. He spends a lot of time with them so his match will need to be okay with a big family. Some of his answers pretty much match yours,” he comments, his lips twisted like he’s tasted something sour.
“He donates his time to looking after animals. It’s even noted here that there was a photo uploaded with him holding a piglet.
“He’s also big on sporting activities,” he tells me, finishing off reading from the list.
“Sounds awesome,” I reply bitterly. Because as much as I love the stuff I do with my family when we take our trips, I’m not really someone who would describe running as a hobby or fun. I wish people would call it for what it is. Torture.
He places the tablet onto the table before crossing his arms, leaning against the white linen tablecloth. “Now that is done, why don’t you explain to me why you told my father I said you dressed like a slut?”
A boisterous laugh slips free, drawing attention from the other diners. “You basically wrote in the contract that clothing worn couldn’t reveal too much skin and to make sure it was appropriate for work.”
“I did no such thing,” he snaps, yet keeps his tone low so others won’t overhear.
“You did, but that wasn’t why I exaggerated.”
He scans my face, waiting for an answer, but I remain quiet. “I’ve got nothing. I don’t get you sometimes,” he groans, throwing his hands up. “Why on earth would you say that to him? Now he thinks he has to worry that I’m being unprofessional.” He gives the waitress a curt nod when she sets our drinks down.
I thank her before answering. “Because you knew I was coming back for those truffles and cream cakes when I got a break. Your dad gave them to me, not you.”
“I was hungry,” he defends, but he’s forgetting who I am. I can detect a lie a mile away.
“Really? Then why did your sister tell me you took the rest home with you?”
“Damn Mia and her big mouth.”
I glare. I was looking forward to those damn truffles, since Sally made sure all the residents knew to hide their treat supplies. “Spill.”
“I forgot.”
“Try again.”
“All right, I wanted to get a reaction out of you, but only because you told that nurse I was gay.”
“She was flirting with you.”
His mouth opens, then closes, before he thinks on what to say. “And? Does that bother you?”
I roll my eyes. “I was doing you a favour if you must know. She’s been broody ever since Miss Wilma’s granddaughter brought her baby in a few months ago. She’s been wanting someone to get her pregnant. I’ve heard her talking on the phone.”
The blood drains from his face. I know she gave him her number. Whether he kept it or not, I don’t know.
“Really?”
No and yes. She does want a baby, but I reacted so harshly because I didn’t like her flirting with him. I don’t particularly like her full stop. She has a way of making others who work with her feel small, especially Amelia, who is new. I made her shift a nightmare that night, not only because of Clayton, but because she called Amelia fat.
“Yes, she’s been going on about it for months. She even admitted to having unprotected sex with her ex-boyfriend.”
Shock rolls off him and it takes him a few minutes to grasp the position he nearly let himself be in.
“Thank you. I’m sorry I took your truffles.”
I tilt my head up, pretending to be fascinated with the décor before turning back to him. “Thank me by not bringing up the dress code again.”
“I told you I threw the contract out. It was you who brought it up to my father.”
“It also means you can’t keep bringing it up every chance you get when you see what I’m wearing.”
He narrows his eyes on me. “You are a very conniving woman, Hayden Carter.”
I grin, pleased with the compliment. “Thank you.”
He shakes his head disbelievingly. “I’ll drop it if you do.”
“Awesome,” I tell him, going quiet for a few minutes as I take a sip of juice. “How will this work? I mean, are you going to sit with us, or do you have a table for yourself somewhere? If you do, it’s going to look like you’ve been stood up.”
His lips twitch. “
You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be right over there,” he tells me, pointing to the table behind him, a row over. “And I have a date.”
I begin to feel queasy at the news.
“What? Who? And how are you meant to watch out for my safety if you’re paying attention to your date?” I hiss out, failing to keep my voice down.
“Wow, calm down. She’s one of the women who work for Date Night. It’s not only women who can multitask, you know.”
I watch him sceptically. “Now you’re just being rude. If I’m kidnapped because you are thinking about fucking the woman in front of you, be quick to get your will and funeral arrangements sorted.”
“Now you’re being dramatic again.” He smirks. “Are you going to haunt me from the other side? I’m touched you’d care.”
“Please don’t take my warning for concern. And you’ll pray I was haunting you by the time my dad is done with you.” He mutters something under his breath that I don’t quite hear. “Speak up, I didn’t hear you.”
“I said, you make your dad out to be crazy.”
That wasn’t what he said, but I drop it, sitting up in my chair. “Oh, he is, but not in the way you’re thinking. Yes, if his only daughter was killed, he’d smile while he skinned you alive, but that’s not all I meant. My dad has a way of driving people to the brink of their own crazy. You’ll beg for death if he ever sets his sights on you.”
“Have you ever dated?”
Startled by the question, I nod. “Yes.”
“I’m surprised, if you warn them about your dad.”
I grin, leaning a little on the table. “Oh, if I’m in a relationship, the bloke doesn’t need to worry about my dad if he does something wrong. I have my own brand of crazy.”
He looks unfazed. “That I can believe, but, Hayden, I don’t have to worry about your dad. I’m taking this seriously, and if at any point you feel uncomfortable, I will be there in a flash.”
“Good, because I’d hate to embarrass you by causing a scene in this exquisite restaurant.”
He grins, holding his glass to his lips before pausing, then holding it out to me. “Take this. I’ll drive you home in your car and have a taxi pick me up from your house.”
Not one to say no, I take the drink from his hand, smelling the contents. “Thanks.”
He smirks, and I know he’s waiting for me to put it down and ask for a girly drink. I take a sip, watching his pupils dilate with admiration.
It’s strong and bitter, but I don’t let it show, swallowing the harsh liquid down my throat.
“Oh, and, Hayden, I don’t embarrass easily. I can handle your crazy.”
I squeeze my thighs together, unable to pull my gaze away from him as I slowly lower the glass to the table.
“I bet,” I whisper huskily.
CHAPTER NINE
I can’t believe I’m doing this. Everything that had happened with Faith is running through my mind. Am I putting myself in danger? Is this my end? Carter’s have a way of getting themselves into trouble. Granted, they all ended up with their soul mates, but me, I don’t even have a potential love interest. This isn’t a novel or a movie.
I could be in the presence of a serial killer tonight, and I’d die without meeting him. Or maybe I’ve already met him and run him off with my charming personality.
The whole process of it all is a scary thing. I can look after myself, but it doesn’t mean I go looking for trouble because of it.
Then there’s the question of whether I’ll like him or not. Will Clayton make me sit through a three-course meal, pretending to enjoy his company?
My stomach is in knots from the nerves. Nerves of meeting a creeper. Nerves of meeting someone I might actually like. That doomed feeling won’t leave my stomach.
A laugh slips free at how crazy I sound, even to myself. It’s a date, not a drama series on what not to do in the presence of a serial killer. If someone could hear my thoughts right now, they’d probably commit me.
Clayton watches me with a raised eyebrow. He’s probably wondering how he got stuck with the mentally unstable co-worker right now.
“If something happens, he’ll die first,” I mutter.
“What?” he mouths.
I press my lips together when I realise I said it out loud, and shrug. His attention is pulled away when a tall, leggy blonde approaches his table. He stands to greet her, smiling like a cat who got the cream as he bends down to kiss her cheek.
Could he be any more cheesy?
He really needs to ring in for advice, because kissing her on the first date is leading her on. What if he doesn’t like her by the end of it or she doesn’t like him? It will be uncomfortable for both of them.
She’s probably sat there picturing him on their wedding day. Poor soul.
Running her hand up and down his arm, she tilts her head back, laughing at whatever he whispered. She’s laughing like the guy is actually hilarious. I instantly dislike her. Clearly, she’s fake, because he wouldn’t know a joke if it bit him on the arse.
Her outfit screams desperation. It’s short, but not short enough to be slutty, and she’s showing more cleavage than me. I bet he doesn’t give her the riot act on how to dress appropriately.
A throat clearing in front of me has me nearly tipping out of my chair.
My eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when they land on Reid Hayes smugly sitting in the chair in front of me. His crisp, dark purple shirt is unbuttoned at the top, the colour looking good on him. He’s styled his hair and smells divine. He’s dressed for a date, so what I don’t understand is why he’s sitting in front of me.
I scan the room for any signs of my date, not wanting Reid to scare him away, before addressing the matter in front of me.
“Reid, you can’t be here.”
“Why?” He smirks, leaning back in his chair like he belongs.
“Why are you smirking? Go away, Reid, I’m meeting someone.”
“I can’t do that.”
My God, he’s infuriating.
He turns up everywhere lately, it seems. Landon and Lily have a lot to answer for, bringing this muppet into our lives.
Our waitress from earlier steps up to the table. “Can I get you a drink, sir?”
“He’s not staying,” I tell her sharply, glaring at Reid.
“Oh, I’m—”
“I’ll have whatever beer you have on tap, babe,” he orders, winking at her.
My phone on the table lights up with a text.
CLAYTON: You could at least pretend to enjoy your date being there. Be nice.
I glance up from my phone and stare at Reid, the realisation dawning on me.
No.
This cannot be happening.
Why couldn’t I get the serial killer?
“No,” I drag out, my stomach bottoming out.
He grins. “Now she’s getting it.”
“You cannot be serious,” I snap.
“Believe it, baby.”
“They said you were a successful business owner who just gave up some responsibility to free up their time,” I remind him dryly.
His grin only gets bigger at my discomfort, and he shrugs. “I do own a percentage of Hayes’ Removals. We just hired a receptionist to take on some of the workload. I’m pretty sure Wyatt wants to fuck her.”
“I don’t care, Reid,” I snap. “And the part where you said you donate your time to animals?”
“I do. I help my mum out on the farm. The piglets were a cute addition to the form.”
Well, isn’t he clever. I can’t even say he lied, because all he did was twist the truth to come across differently.
“And the sporting actives? Because I’m pretty sure checking yourself out in the mirror at the gym doesn’t count.”
He waits for the waitress to place his drink on the table before leaning forward to answer.
“I didn’t think writing ‘I like to fuck a lot’ in the answer box was appropriate.”
I roll
my eyes. “You’re a pig.” I laugh anyway. I laugh at his answer, at how devious he was, and at just being in this situation. Only I could find myself on a blind date and have it end up being with Reid.
My phone lights up again, and I pick it up, reading the message.
CLAYTON: Do you want me to cancel the date?
I quickly look over to his table, and although his date’s back is to me, I can tell she’s talking away by the movements of her shoulders and the way her hands flap about.
HAYDEN: Are you even listening to your date?
He grins as he reads my message.
CLAYTON: I think I’ve met someone who talks as much as you, and I thought that was impossible. But to answer your question, I’m paying attention. I can multitask, remember?
HAYDEN: Prick!
“I’m hurt you’re finding your phone more interesting than me. I’m a fucking catch, baby.”
I place my phone on the table, staring into his eyes.
“Reid, let me be clear. I find paint drying more interesting than you. This isn’t a real date.” I take a deep breath, ignoring his pout. “And how did you even know about this? Why are you even here?”
He chuckles. “That night I found you upstairs at your uncle’s? I caught bits of the conversation and pieced it all together. For the most part anyway. I wasn’t sure we would match, so I guessed what you would put.”
Yeah, and pigs fly. “For some reason, I don’t believe you.”
Laughing, he shakes his head. “I used to fuck one of the members of staff who works for Date Night. I got her to match us as a favour for someone in the family.”
“I’m not your family.”
“Close enough. And I knew you didn’t want to do this. I’m bored, so I thought, why not?”
When his gaze hardens over my shoulder, I turn in my chair. An older man is dining with a girl closer to our age than his.
“You got a thing for the redhead?”
He looks confused for a moment before what I asked registers. “No, the bloke is someone we have an interest in. We thought he’d left this area and moved on. Clearly he hasn’t.”
“You want to go confront him?” I ask hopefully.
Chuckling, he downs his drink. “No, there’s a time and a place for men like him. Here isn’t one of them.”
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