Or at least admit that he wants me.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Clayton and I trek up the path to the café the next morning. It rained through the night, yet the promise of more is in the grey clouds above. The wind picks up, stirring strands of hair in my face. I brush them off.
Clayton takes the lead when we reach the door, grasping the handle. However, instead of pulling it open, he pauses, turning slightly towards me.
“Don’t leave me alone today. I’m man enough to admit that I’m worried your father will kill me in the process of trying to scare me away.”
Laughing, I pat his shoulder. “If you want to win my dad over, either supply him with unlimited food or play him at his own game. He respects nothing more than someone who can give as good as they get.”
“So, you’re telling me that if I accidently kill him, you’ll still like me?”
“Who said I like you?” I drawl, and he arches his eyebrows in reply. I roll my eyes, exhaling. “You’re underestimating my dad. You’ll never be able to get one up on him.”
He shoots me a roguish smirk, winking. “And you’re underestimating my ability to get what I want.”
“What do you want?” I mumble.
However, he ignores me, pulling open the door to the café, different aromas hitting my senses.
“You’ll see,” he taunts.
The noise in the café is deafening when I stomp inside after him. “Clayton, what do you mean?”
“Your dad and mum are here,” he announces from the corner of his mouth.
He’s right. In fact, I think we’re the last to arrive. Our entire group has congregated to the left of the room, taking up a majority of tables.
We traipse over to Mum and Dad, and I lean down, kissing Mum’s cheek before reaching over to Dad, giving him a one-arm hug.
“Morning,” I greet.
“Morning, baby.”
“I need food,” Dad whines, dropping his head down on the table.
Laughter spills out of me as we move over to the next table, where Jaxon and Lily are cuddled together. Seeing them sitting alone is surprising to say the least. I would have thought someone would have jumped at the chance.
I search the room for Maddox as Clayton and I take a seat, finding him sulking into his coffee cup, every so often peeking in our direction.
I’d never admit it, but I do feel sorry for him to an extent. But still, I’m kind of fed up of him being pathetic. It needs to end.
I set my icy gaze on Jaxon, waiting for him to take notice before saying, “You should let him spend some time with her.”
“What?” Clayton asks, glancing up from the menu.
I ignore him, continuing to stare blankly at Jaxon. He exhales, dropping his mug on the table. “He’s infuriating.”
“So are you, buttercup. I guess you have it in common.”
“What’s going on?” Lily asks, biting her bottom lip.
I roll my eyes when Jaxon doesn’t answer. “It’s Maddox. He’s really missing you. I think he feels pushed out.”
“Hayden,” Jaxon growls.
I stick my tongue out, shrugging.
“I told you he was upset when he left before dinner the other night.”
“He wasn’t. He really wanted to go,” Jaxon lies.
Lily glances over her shoulder, her lip trembling. “I miss him too. I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.”
“Why don’t you do something tomorrow? We’ve all got the morning free until we go Go-Karting.”
I wave Maddox over. He nearly tips his coffee all over Liam’s lap in his haste to get up.
“Everything okay?” he asks, pulling out the chair from the next table over—the one Mark was about to sit down on—and dragging it over to ours.
“Take a seat,” Jaxon grumbles, shifting his phone and cup away to leave room for Maddox’s.
“Lily wanted to ask you something,” I declare.
“Yes, I did. I know we’ve not spent much time together in the past couple of months, and that’s no one’s fault but my own. I’m really sorry.”
Maddox’s jaw clenches as his gaze flickers to Jaxon. “We’ve been busy, that’s not your fault.”
Lily visibly relaxes, and her smile lights up her entire face. “Would you like to hang out tomorrow, before we go Go-Karting?”
“Just us?” he asks, his eyebrows arching.
Lily sucks in her bottom lip, blinking up at Jaxon.
“I can hang out with Hayden and her new boyfriend,” he assures her, smug.
“We’re busy,” I grit out, trying to keep my tone smooth. “But you should use the time to get to know your in-laws.”
Lily bounces in her seat, linking her arm through Jaxon’s. “That’s actually perfect. Mum and Dad would love it too. She’s always telling him to get to know you better. Tomorrow, they’re taking Sunday to messy play.”
Instead of listening to him try to dig himself out of the hole he’s dug, I lean back on two legs of my chair before reaching around and tapping Faith on the shoulder.
“What’s the plan for today?”
Her chair scrapes along the tiled floor, and I cringe at the grating sound. “We’re booked into the spa today. It’s a part of this facility but on another plot of land. The guy on the desk said it would take ten minutes to walk there,” she explains before taking a breath. “Did you bring your swimming costume, like I asked?”
“Yeah, but I’ve got to tell you, I was worried for a minute that you wanted us to go swimming in the lake. I’d have done it, like, for you, but I really didn’t want to freeze my tits off.”
She lets out a mirthful laugh. “God no. It’s quiet here due to the cold season, so one of the owners said we could have the private pool they have for private parties. We’ve got champagne and health snacks waiting for us when we arrive.”
“Yummy,” I mutter dryly.
“Shut up,” she chuckles. “They’ve got a sauna, hot tub and gym there. After lunch, we’ve got treatments for those who pre-booked. Then a make-up artist and hairdresser are coming to do our hair and make-up ready for our cocktail making and our night out.”
“Can’t I go with the lads?”
“We’re separating?” Clayton sputters.
“Dude, cut the cord,” Maddox jibes.
I roll my eyes at him before nudging Faith. “No, you can’t. Even Mum and Sunday are coming. They have a kids pool, but they’ve said we’re welcome to bring her into the private pool.”
“All right,” I sulk, dropping my chair to all fours.
“What am I meant to be doing?” Clayton asks, sounding nervous.
“You came,” I remind him. “Don’t blame me for this. But for your information, you’ll be spending the day off-road mud karting.”
His expression lights up as he grins at me. “I guess I could bear to be apart for that.”
I snort at his attempt to be funny. “I bet.”
“That is so sweet,” Lily gushes. “I never want to be apart from Jaxon either.”
Jaxon gazes softly down at Lily, pulling her into his arms before addressing Clayton. “Just make sure you wear your seat belt. They’re going to kill you. I’m talking from experience, mate.”
Maddox slams his fists down on the table, causing everything to shake. “We said we were sorry for that. You didn’t die, so you really need to get over it.”
“Over you guys nearly beating me to death? Of course I’m over it.” Jaxon stops when Lily tenses, squeezing her tighter. “Sorry, princess.”
“He wasn’t joking?” Clayton sputters, drilling holes into the side of my head.
I grimace, shrugging. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Already a sense I’ll be choking on those words later, haunts me.
*** *** ***
Sunday gives a joyous laugh that echoes around the enclosed room. Her little legs kick in the water mercilessly as she slaps her hands down, splashing me and Mum.
When it was evident Sunday wasn’t i
mpressed with the pool we occupied, me and Mum decided to bring her to the kids pool, giving Aunt Teagan time alone with her daughter and Bailey, to have a break. Although she isn’t Sunday’s biological mum, she loves and cares for her like she’s her own. She couldn’t sit by and relax and pretend she wasn’t there.
Sunday loves it here though, especially the slides.
“She really does look cute in her swimming costume,” I admit, laughing when Sunday splashes me again, giving me a toothy smile.
“I think splashing us has become a game to her, but let’s cut the small talk. Stop avoiding the talk you know I want. Tell me about Clayton.”
I avoid making eye contact with Mum and instead find fascination in twirling Sunday in her float, causing her to laugh. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“I find that hard to believe. He’s hot, you’re hot, and there’s some serious chemistry between you. I watched him on the coach with you. He knew when you needed something before you did. No one is that in tune with someone if there isn’t something there.”
Sunday expresses her displeasure when I stop twirling her, gripping the float and crying out, “Da, da, da.”
Resuming the twirling at a slower pace, I turn to Mum. “That’s all we have in common, Mum. Don’t get excited. He’s a majority owner of a successful business while I work for a little over minimum wage. For him. He dresses to impress whilst I’d live in my PJ’s if I could. And the worst: can you believe he doesn’t like gaming? He’s never even played Call of Duty.”
Mum chuckles half-heartedly, a smile teasing the corner of her lips. “Has anyone ever told you opposites attract? Me and your father couldn’t have been any more different when we were younger.”
“Yes, but you fit in a way that all the edges meet. You put up with his outrageous behaviour.”
“Exactly, we couldn’t be more opposite. But we built a life together where we grew, where we, like you said, fit. As your dad would say, he’s the bacon to my egg, salt to my pepper.”
My heart stutters as I slouch. “He doesn’t like me like that.”
She scoffs. “I don’t believe that for a second. I didn’t raise a stupid girl, Hayden. I raised a clever and strong one.”
“Thanks, Mum,” I mutter dryly. “But it’s you who’s wrong this time. He kissed me, then regretted it, saying it shouldn’t have happened.”
“You like him,” Mum states without caution. “You’d have moved on by now if you didn’t.”
I chuckle at how right she is. “I was going to, but then I got a glimpse of him at work and I couldn’t help it. I wanted him again. There’s just something that draws me to him.”
“You like him more than just wanting to do the naughty with him.”
“Yeah, okay,” I tell her, rolling my eyes.
“Yes, you do. You wouldn’t have let him come with you on a family trip if you didn’t.”
“Have you not stopped to consider whether I brought him because I didn’t like him?” When she continues to stare, I sigh, my brows scrunching together. “I tried to stop him.”
“You are your father’s daughter. If you had tried, he wouldn’t be here, and we both know it. He’d be locked in or tied up somewhere.”
“If that’s a dig about the time Dad got locked in the cellar, I’m offended. Someone else put the bolt across and blocked it with a tumble dryer. Just because I didn’t want him to come to the school dance, doesn’t mean it was me,” I lie, inwardly smiling at the fond memory. He’s never gone back down there.
Mum struggles to hide her disbelief. “You’re strong-minded, Hayden. You resemble your father in a lot of ways, which is why I know you’ll be stubborn about Clayton. Don’t hold it against him, or at least give him a chance to explain why he pulled away. He’s a man, so the reason is probably ridiculous.”
“It’s because he’s my boss.”
“See, ridiculous,” she points out.
“You’re amazing, Mum. Have I told you that lately?”
Laughing, she pulls Sunday towards her. “So are you, my girl.”
The door to the pool swings open and Imogen strolls in, waving a phone in her hand.
“Your phone hasn’t stopped ringing or receiving messages for the past ten minutes. They’re all from ‘Hot Jerk Boss’.”
“Oh cra—crazy,” I rush out, forcing a smile towards Sunday, grateful I didn’t slip up. “I need to go. Tell Faith I’ll be back in time to shower and get my hair and make-up done.”
“I am going to kill your dad,” she claims, before leaning down to kiss Sunday. “That’s right, Sunday, Aunt Lake is going to kill your uncle Max.”
“I’m coming. I don’t think I’m a zen person,” Imogen announces.
I laugh, tugging her hand after pulling myself up and out of the pool.
“Let’s go smash some shit.”
“It’s mud karting, not bumper cars,” Mum yells after us.
“I’ll call a taxi while you get changed,” Imogen offers.
“This is going to be awesome.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Imogen falls in step beside me as we march over to the buggy bay, helmets in hand. We had rented one after the quickest safety course in a dummy kart ever. Personally, I think the guy just wanted us to get our family under control or get them to leave. He was sweating, stuttering his words and stumbling all over the place in a rush to get us on the track.
“Why did it have to rain?” Imogen complains, blowing into her hands.
I reach into the blue overalls I’m wearing, grab the pair of gloves I found earlier and hand them over to her.
A man in his late twenties, wearing an orange jumpsuit, spots us, venom pouring from his eyes.
I pull my green knitted beanie further down my head as I lean in to Imogen. “Why is he staring at us like we just killed his mum?”
He throws his hands up when we draw closer. “Please don’t tell me they sent two fucking girls to sort these hooligans out?”
I cut him a sharp gaze, my lip curling. “Yeah. You know the saying, ‘Never get a man to do a woman’s job’.”
“I don’t think that’s said right,” Imogen helpfully interjects.
“Just sort them out. There’s only three of us on duty due to the season, and the guy out with your group is missing. We can’t reach him on the radio.”
I tilt my head to the sky, sighing before locking gazes with Imogen. “Dad.”
“Max,” she agrees, giving a sharp nod.
Wanting this over with, I reach my hand out, palm up, impatiently tapping my foot against the tarmac. “Keys.”
He shoots me a furious glance as he slaps the keys in the palm of my hand.
“Your buggy kart is number nine.”
He storms off, and with one shared look from Imogen, I grin, swinging the keys around my finger. “Let’s do this.”
The buggy kart looks nothing like more than red scrap metal. I just hope it doesn’t run like it too.
After pulling the helmet over my head, I lower myself into the bucket seat, Imogen following on the passenger side.
“This is awesome,” Imogen yells, yet I can barely hear her through my helmet.
I double check my straps before turning the engine on. It roars to life, vibrating to the point I begin to shake.
“Whoohoo,” I holler, pressing my foot down on the accelerator.
We both slam back into the seats, the tyres screeching as we fly off the track and onto the dirt road.
Imogen tilts her head up, throwing her hands up in the air, and screams.
I don’t blame her. If I wasn’t worried the wheels might spin out of control, I’d let go myself. This has to be the most exhilarating thing I’ve ever done, and coming from a family that is dominated by men, that is saying something.
Scenery flies past us in a blur, the wind whipping around us, howling. I laugh as mud splatters from the tyres, covering the buggy and our overalls.
I’ve never been happier.
I shift th
e wheel to the left as I spot the sign the guy from the front desk told us was the beginning of the track Dad and the rest were on. I just hope we catch up to them before they get someone killed. There is no way they’d act like mad men if we were on the track. None of them would take the chance of putting us at risk. They might be hazardous when it comes to every other aspect of their lives, but when it comes to the females in their lives, they are careful, protective.
A pothole in the dirt track causes us to bounce in our seat, and I nearly lose control of the wheel.
Imogen yells something I can’t hear, so I lean in, keeping my gaze on the road.
When I still can’t hear what she’s saying, she points to the distance. Up ahead, a buggy kart is facing forward down a ditch, shrubs covering the front of the cage. There’s another buggy not far up, still on the path.
Shit!
We skid to a stop behind the buggy at the top of the bank. In seconds, I have my straps undone and my helmet ripped off, dropping it onto my seat as I get out.
I reach the top, coming to a stop and placing my hands on my head. “What the hell?”
A head pops up from the car. “Hayden? Hayden, is that you?” Clayton yells.
I exhale, dropping my arms to my sides as I take another step down the bank, slipping when my feet hit the mud slide.
“Shit,” I curse as I nearly topple over. I steady myself, walking around to the driver’s side, my jaw dropping at the sight of Clayton tied up to the steering wheel. He stops trying to loosen the knot with his teeth and lifts his head up.
I step back when he levels me with a furious glare, his lips tight.
I can feel his temper flaring, so when he opens his mouth to most likely yell at me, I step forward, holding my hands up in surrender.
“I’d like to take this opportunity to point out that you wanted to come. I warned you, more than once, so really, you only have yourself to blame for this predicament.”
“Most people would rush to help the person stranded and tied to a vehicle,” he points out, his tone coated in annoyance.
I shrug as an idea occurs to me, and I pull out my phone, absently answering him. “I’m not most people.”
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