My lips twitch. “So, really this isn’t about a girl but about you. Do you like people taking a piss on you?”
“What kind of show is this?” he rages, genuinely offended.
The only thing that stops me from laughing is Clayton. I don’t want to get fired, not when I’m meant to be neutral. I can give my attitude and blunt advice, but to laugh or make fun of someone’s experience is frowned upon.
“Answer me,” I reply harshly.
“Okay. Okay. So, my crazy ex threw some kind of concoction on me, and ever since, I like the feel of crap smothered all over me.” I’m both disgusted and amused.
“And why did your ex throw it on you?” I ask, waiting for his bullshit excuse.
“Do I know you?”
“No, Russ, you really don’t.” And he never did.
“She’s batshit crazy. Has a real problem taking instruction, if you get my meaning?”
My teeth grind together. “Or maybe she did it for another reason.”
“No. Her entire family are nuts. I had her dad come by and shove my head down the loo, all because I broke it off with her and she didn’t like it. She couldn’t handle losing me. I get it a lot, but she’s a new brand of crazy.”
Why do people keep calling me crazy?
And his bullshit story about my dad is ludicrous. He doesn’t even know who he is or which flat it was… God, who am I kidding. He’s Max Carter.
“You mean you cheated on her?”
I grab my phone, quickly typing out a text to my dad.
HAYDEN: Did you pay Russell a visit, by any chance?
“We weren’t exclusive.”
“Or maybe you didn’t like that she got one over on you.”
“Why don’t we calm down,” Clayton interrupts, shaking his head in disapproval at me.
DAD: Did that pussy say I was there?
“Must be her time of the month,” Russ tries to joke.
“Or maybe I’m just done with people who don’t take this channel seriously.”
“Are you sure we don’t know each other?”
HAYDEN: Did you at least make sure no one saw you? You could lose your job if he decides to go to the police, Dad.
DAD: Kind of insulted you think I’m an idiot. I raised you better, girl.
I roll my eyes. “I’m sure.”
“Russ, I’d find a substance that’s not going to gross you out. Try chocolate syrup or honey,” Clayton tells him. “That’s it for tonight. Dream will be here to take your calls next week.”
“You,” he growls, when the red ‘off air’ button comes on.
“I need to go; my dad needs me.” I get up, ready to make my break for it, when two arms sweep me off my feet and I’m thrown over his shoulder. “Put me down! This is misconduct.”
“Take it up with the boss,” he snidely remarks. “We need to talk.”
*** *** ***
“You didn’t need to carry me off like a lunatic,” I snap, slamming the car door.
“You wouldn’t listen,” he fires back, his green eyes seething. “You’ve ignored me all week.”
Of course I have.
I survey where we are, my stomach grumbling at all the different aromas coming from the restaurants. He’d brought me to the one place I would never run from. Blueborn food court. The place is gigantic, filled with different restaurants supplying a range of food.
“You could have just mentioned food,” I grumble under my breath, stomping up the entrance steps to Boo’s.
It’s my favourite place to get a burger. They have all kinds of amazing foods, but their burgers are their signature seller.
“Two please,” Clayton declares to the waitress.
She picks up two menus before leading us through the busy restaurant to a booth opposite the bar.
Since I’m in a mood, I don’t argue when Clayton orders our drinks, instead taking my jacket off before taking a seat.
“What was that back at work?” he asks, undoing his suit jacket as he takes a seat.
This is what he wants to talk about? Really?
“You don’t want to know.”
“I really do,” he tells me, but from the tone of his voice, I’d say he really doesn’t. He begins to shift in his seat, opening and closing his mouth a few times before finally asking, “Are you really into that stuff?”
I burst out laughing. He clearly had selective hearing and only heard the worst parts of the conversation once he realised I knew who it was.
“Yes. Yes, I really am.”
He gapes, leaning forward on the table as he runs a hand over his jaw. “I mean, I assumed you knew the man, but I’ve been wrong before when trying to read you. I was just guessing he was an ex,” he rambles, paling somewhat.
I throw the salt shaker at him, hitting him in the chest. “Do I look like someone who enjoys being pissed on?”
“Oh my God,” the waitress blurts out, jerking to a stop next to our table, our drinks sloshing over the edge of the glasses. She slowly puts them down. “I’m sorry. I’ll come back to take your order.”
I lightly reach for her wrist, stopping her, ignoring the flinch. “No need. I’ll have your double whopper bacon burger and chips, a side order of onion rings and garlic bread, and two sides of those cheese melt things.”
“Okay, got it. I’ll get someone to bring over two share plates,” she tells me, scribbling fast on her notepad.
“Um, no,” I bite out, wondering where she gets off on thinking I’d share my food. I clear my throat when she noticeably pales once again. “He just wants a burger and chips.”
She scurries off and I slowly turn to Clayton, my jaw clenching before I lean over for the pepper shaker and throw it at him.
“Stop throwing shit at me, Hayden.”
“She thinks I enjoy being pissed on.”
A squeak from beside me has me closing my eyes briefly, wondering what I did in a past life to deserve this. My shoulders sag when I find the same waitress beside us.
“Um… do you, um—would you like the house burger sauce?”
“Yes, please, on both,” Clayton replies, sounding amused.
That prick.
I smile sweetly, reaching over to grab his hand, taking him by surprise. “Now, let’s talk about you wanting a golden shower.”
The waitress rushes off, apologising to someone on her way, but I’m too busy gloating at Clayton. Well, I am, until I hear it—
“You will do no such thing,” Dad roars.
I groan, sliding out of the booth and blocking Dad’s path when he goes for Clayton.
Why is this happening today?
“Move, Hayden, I’m going to fuck up this sick twat.”
“Maybe ‘fuck’ isn’t the correct term to use, Max,” Mum advises, and I glare at her for making it worse.
“Dad, stop,” I cry out, pushing him back. “It’s not what you think.”
His stern gaze hits me, making me take a step back. It’s the same look he gave me when I snuck out late so I could go hang out with my mates.
“How is him,” he bites out, pointing to Clayton as the veins in his temples pulse, “wanting you to… to urinate, me getting the wrong idea?”
“Because I said it to embarrass him in front of the waitress,” I tell him calmly, before glancing at my mum, who looks hot in her new outfit. “Looking hot, mummaliscious.”
“Oh,” Dad mutters, still glaring at Clayton.
“Thanks, baby. Your dad decided to treat me tonight, so I thought I’d make an effort.”
Dad, only just registering what was said, pulls his gaze away from Clayton. “What? I always treat you, woman. Just this morning I did that thing with my—”
“Dad,” I yell, covering my ears. “Shut up.”
“Sorry for the misunderstanding. I’m Clayton Cross. It’s nice to finally meet you. Hayden talks about you a lot,” Clayton says, placing one hand on my hip while holding the other out for my dad to shake. Heat from his touch warms me, and my stomach
flutters as I involuntarily lean back into his embrace.
Behind Dad’s back, Mum smirks, waggling her eyebrows and giving me a thumbs up to cement her approval.
Dad, however, reminds me of someone who has woken up after sleeping walking and has no idea where they are as his gaze flickers from Clayton’s outstretched hand, up to his face.
“Of course it’s fucking nice to meet me,” he snaps, before glaring down at where Clayton’s hand is resting on my hip. “Now, tell me what the hell you’re doing with my daughter. My only daughter.”
“Dad, you know the rules,” I remind him.
He sniffs, turning away. “I know the rules, Hayden. But nowhere does it state that I can’t ask questions regarding my daughter.”
“You have rules?” Clayton asks, his interest piqued.
“Who are you again?” Dad snaps.
“Max, why don’t we sit down and order food before last orders are called and leave Hayden to it.”
“No.”
She sighs, telling the waitress to give them another minute.
“I’m—” Clayton starts, but I spin, forcing him to sit down.
“Going to shut up and sit down,” I grit out, giving him a pointed look.
“I’m not doing this again,” he hisses. “The other day, you told that woman I was a male escort.”
I wave him off. “She’s a nosey neighbour of my cousin. She’d blab.” Blanche probably wouldn’t, but I didn’t want to take any chances.
“Hayden,” he growls.
I sigh, turning to my dad. “We’re on a date. I’m still deciding whether to go on another with him. He’s obsessed, and so in love with me. I kind of feel sorry for him.”
“Hay—”
“Of course he is,” Dad states, confused as to why he wouldn’t be. “You’re a Carter.”
“That’s not—”
“Shh,’ I tell Clayton, pressing my finger across his lips. “I’m a hard person to get over, I know.”
“Max,” Mum calls. “They’re going to give away our table.”
The waitress, along with another, takes that moment to bring our food. I sit back down, getting out of the way, licking my lips at the sight of all the food.
Dad’s stomach growls. “The cheesy goodness,” he moans. “I want lots of those.”
My waitress steps back, looking at Dad with an apologetic smile. “Actually, sir, these were our last batch for the day.”
“What?” Dad screeches, placing a hand on his chest as he struggles to breathe.
Clayton goes to stand, but I grab his wrist, slightly shaking my head.
“Mum,” I call, not needing to say any more as I grab the salt and pepper from Clayton’s side.
“Come on, babe, we can see if they have those curly fries you love.”
“With the cheese topping?” he asks, sniffing, letting her pull him away.
“Yeah, babe,” she tells him, before glancing over her shoulder at me. “Enjoy your date, baby.”
“I will, Mum.”
Once they’re safely out of earshot and across the room, I turn to an open-mouthed Clayton. I grin, clasping my hands together. “Well, that went really well.”
“He…” he whispers, pointing to where Dad once stood.
“Is the best, I know. And sadly, you won’t be seeing each other again.”
“I’m sure we will at the stag/ hen party,” he tells me distractedly as he pours vinegar over his chips.
I pause mid-chew before quickly swallowing. “Excuse me, could you repeat that?”
He finishes cutting his burger in half before answering. “Sorry, I assumed you were aware I was attending. We need to go check out Mingles, anyway.”
No.
No, no, no.
“We can do that another time. Any time that isn’t my cousin’s hen party.”
“Yeah, we could, but this saves taking more time away from the office.”
“But wouldn’t it be great if we did,” I tell him forcefully.
“Plus, Charlotte kindly sent me an invitation via email,” Clayton continues, ignoring me.
“No.”
He sighs, placing his burger down. “Yes, Hayden. It will give us more time to talk about what transpired last week.”
“You mean when you sabotaged my date, kissed me and then regretted it?” I snap, shoving a few chips into my mouth.
“That’s not—”
“I can’t talk about this with you right now.”
I give him a tight smile when I see Dad looking over, probably trying to read our lips to see what’s going on, but from where his gaze is aimed, he might just be sour over my cheesy bites.
I pick one up, inwardly laughing when his gaze follows, and pop it into my mouth. His expression hardens before he turns to Mum, beginning one of his rants.
From the corner of my eye, I notice Clayton go for one. I slap his hand away, narrowing my eyes. “Don’t touch my cheesy bites. If you wanted some, you should have ordered your own.”
“You didn’t give me a chance,” he argues, pouting.
I roll my eyes, throwing a scrunched-up napkin at him. “You’re grown man. Don’t use that excuse.”
“Five days with you is going to be a nightmare, isn’t it?”
“You’ll never know, because I’m telling Charlotte you aren’t going. I’ll make up an excuse.”
“Why? I’m going to be there regardless. It will only confuse her when she sees us together.”
“Then I quit.”
“You’re under contract remember.”
Fucking wanker.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“I really don’t want to talk about this. I want you to leave. It’s for your own safety,” I stress.
“Careful, I might start to think you actually like me,” Clayton teases.
I don’t understand why he is so set on coming with us. He only really knows me. Okay, I don’t really care that he doesn’t know anyone. I’m more bothered about the fact I have to spend five days with a man who I’m highly attracted to but who only sees me as an employee.
And then there’s the drinking. I tend to get horny when I’ve had a few.
Or I end up doing something ridiculous, with no recollection as to why the next day.
“I’d like to keep your employees in work. With you dead, the company will go bust and all those people will lose their jobs,” I lie.
“Your father seemed nice enough to me, so the rest of your family will be a breeze.” He pulls into a free space before shutting off the car. “Now, about that kiss.”
I throw the rest of my stale muffin that I grabbed from the staff room at the care home at him. Clayton arranged to pick me up there after my shift and even turned up early so he could sit with his dad.
He snatches the muffin mid-air, his reflexes getting quicker, before leaning across the parking brake and getting close. “If there weren’t so many people around, I would bend you over the backseat and spank your arse. I’m getting fed up of you throwing shit at me.”
Suddenly, I’m hyperaware of how close he is. I’m not sure if it’s his proximity or the scent of his spicy cologne that has my pulse quickening and wetness seeping between my legs.
I shift in my seat, badly trying to soothe the deep ache between my legs. It’s been a long time since I had sex and my vagina is feeling the effects.
Trying not to take a look at the backseat to see if it’s big enough is useless. I’m a shameless hussy and have no bones about admitting it.
The need to have him becomes stronger when I calculate the backseat is indeed big enough. Big enough to bend me over and fuck me so hard the car rocks.
“Hayden,” Clayton rasps, and I tilt my head to the side, bringing our faces closer together. His pupils dilate, watching me, reading me.
My dirty thoughts flash behind his eyes, and I inwardly moan.
I startle at the touch of his hand on my knee before he slowly slides it up over my thigh. My lips part, silently pleading with hi
m to go higher.
A strangled, “Wha—” spills through my lips when he reaches up, cupping my cheek.
Tapping on the window has us pulling apart, Clayton groaning in disappointment as he presses down on his pants. I follow his movement, noticing the bulge.
I glare at Charlotte and Madison, who are standing outside the car, waving.
“Fuck!” I groan.
I know they’ve done me a favour. I didn’t want to go through him rejecting me, not when he had my body on overdrive. It’s one thing to desire the man beside me, but it’s another to be seriously turned on by him. I’ve never once felt both towards a male, not even one I’ve been with. It’s only been one or the other, even if most people confuse the two.
But right now, I’m going through both, and Charlotte and Madison have just cock-blocked me.
Clayton slowly waves back, before turning to me with a smug smile. “Looks like you can’t get your way.”
“You are a dick,” I snap, pushing the door open and getting out.
Clayton follows, and as he pushes his door shut, Charlotte jumps him, wrapping her arms around his neck. I rush around to their side before she kills him.
“You made it,” she squeals. “Hayden said you were going to Africa to entertain the children.”
“She said that, did she?”
Charlotte’s eyebrows bunch together as she slowly nods. “Um, didn’t I just say she said that?”
“Um,” Clayton drawls out, turning to me for help.
“Were you two kissing?” she asks, grinning.
“No, he had something in his teeth,” I rush out.
“Hayden’s lying. She had something in her teeth,” Clayton argues, smirking at me.
Charlotte nods like it’s completely reasonable. “That happens a lot when she eats popcorn.”
“Why don’t we go and get our bags and put them on the coach?” I declare, heading for the boot and pulling my case out.
“We’re just waiting on Beau and Faith. The vet managing her sanctuary was running late but they’re on the way,” Madison explains.
I grin. “I bet.”
We head across the terminal to the coach pick up. The wind howls, lifting my suitcase off the floor, and I struggle to keep a hold of it. Clayton grabs it off me as he throws his bag over his shoulder.
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