She studied his face, not finding any strain there, then released the tension in her own chest with a deep sigh. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I felt terrible leaving this morning, but your dad promised me he’d get you out.” She averted her gaze to the booth across from her, shifting on her feet, her stomach in knots. “Clara would have killed me if I didn’t make set up on time.”
Hayes tucked a finger under her chin, demanding her attention. She greeted his gentle eyes, the stare he seemed to give only to her. “You did the right thing by leaving. The festival takes precedence, and honestly, I’m fine. Please let it go.”
“Okay, fine, I will,” she said with a laugh, finally letting herself off the hook. Responsibility sucked. She wasn’t very good at it most days. But she had this one chance to prove she could see something through. That she mattered to the success of the brewery. “You’re right. I’ve got to stay focused.”
He gave a firm nod of agreement, then turned back to the picnic table behind him and offered a white takeout container. “We passed a smokehouse driving in. Hungry?”
“Lord, yes,” she said, hurrying to sit down. Because of the delay on her leaving this morning, she hadn’t had a good meal all day, only a bag of chips, a Coke, and a chocolate bar on the drive.
He sat next to her, opened up his container, revealing brisket, ribs, pulled pork, and an assortment of side dishes. “Did you manage setting up all by yourself?”
“Yeah, right.” She laughed and opened the lid. She nearly purred in happiness at the meat, cheese grits, and corn bread before gesturing to her right. “That guy over there helped out. His name is Ralph.”
When Hayes followed her gaze, she noticed Ralph, who was around her age, was looking right at her. Well, more like sizing up Hayes.
She glanced back at Hayes to find the corners of his mouth twitching. “Another suitor I need to punch?”
“Please don’t.” She nudged her shoulder into his, completely aware of those hard, capable arms. The strength they possessed. With warmth pooling low in her belly, she remembered what those powerful muscles could do to her body. She cleared her throat, refocused. “Besides, we’ve got a busy night ahead of us. The festival opens up in a half hour.” Hopefully, all that heat flaring through her would only burn hotter later tonight once they were at the motel. She took another bite of her corn bread and then hopped up and poured them a couple beers, offering him one before she took her seat again. She nibbled a small piece of corn bread and added, “So, tell me, how was jail?”
He ate half of the corn bread in one bite. “Annoying,” he said with a full mouth.
She snorted a soft laugh. “Do you get in extra trouble or something because you’re a cop?”
“Was a cop,” he gently reminded her. “And yes, I’d be up shit’s creek if I was still on the force, but I’m not, so it’s fine.”
She watched him for a long moment. “Do you ever miss being a cop? You know, the excitement of it all?”
“Why would I?”
She shrugged. “Because for as long as I’ve known you, you always wanted to be a cop. Or at least that’s what Laurel told me.”
He studied her, assessing, before he explained, “You’re right. Being a cop was always my dream job. I come from a long line of cops, so it’s kind of in my blood. But working for Nash is good too. I needed a change after Laurel passed away. I couldn’t go back to that life.”
Maisie nodded, remembering how Hayes had been when she’d first walked into his house that day and found him so utterly broken. “I get that. Laurel’s death was hard for me too.” She hesitated, then quickly corrected, “I mean, not as hard as it must have been for you—”
“You loved her too,” Hayes interjected gently, reaching out to comfort her with a hand on her arm. “Laurel was in your life longer than mine.”
“Yeah, she was,” Maisie drawled, thinking of how things had been for her after Laurel passed away. “You know, that’s what was the hardest. If something happened good or bad, I’d always reach for the phone to call her, but then I—”
Hayes flinched.
“Sorry.” She reached for his hand on her arm, tangling her fingers with his, squeezing gently. “We can talk about something else.”
“Nah, it’s all right.” He grabbed her hand again when she began pulling away. Eyes on her, he placed a kiss on the back of her hand before letting go. “Talking about Laurel is good. It’s nice to remember her and not only see pain.”
Maisie reached for her fork. “I think so too. My sisters really pulled me out of the dark time. So did Penelope. They filled that void. Became the friends I needed.”
“Which is what makes pulling these festivals off so important to you?”
“Exactly.” She scooped some cheese grits onto her fork, liking how easily Hayes seemed to understand her. “I’m not sure where I’d be if it weren’t for my sisters and Penelope. And while the brewery was never really my thing, I don’t want to fail them, not after they were there for me.” At Hayes’s understanding nod, she continued. “Clara’s the brains of the brewery. Her ideas are just incredible. And Amelia is the reason Foxy Diva is such a hit. It took her months to perfect the beer, altering my grandfather’s recipe. Now it’s my turn to do my part.”
“And you’re doing it,” he said reassuringly.
She shrugged slightly. “I’ll breathe a lot easier when these festivals are over. Clara will have what she needs to push ahead to find a distributor for the beer. And my part in all this will be done.” Then she’d have to figure out what to do next within the company. Maybe she could take over the social media and marketing since they were gaining more followers.
“We’ll get there,” Hayes stated. “See this through.”
Her chest expanded, air a little easier to drag in. He watched her in a new way, with a little more curiosity and a lot more heat, and she liked it. She ate the cheese grits, wondering what Laurel would think of all this. Her with Hayes. She guessed from her friendship with Laurel, her friend would say, “The guy you’re with isn’t the Hayes I knew. The husband I loved died when I did. He’s someone different now. Someone you like. Just be happy.”
“Can I ask you something?”
She glanced up, finished her bite. “Sure.”
Hayes’s expression turned probing. “Why have you been single for so long? You dated when Laurel was alive. Had that one boyfriend for a year.”
“Seth?”
Hayes nodded. “Yeah, that one. Whatever happened to him?”
She hesitated, wondering if she should share, considering the truth may hurt. Deciding the truth mattered above all else, she explained, “After Laurel passed away, I changed. Hell, everything changed. I began to take things more seriously, and I think it all got too real for him. Too dark, I think.”
“So, things got tough and he bailed?”
“I know it seems harsh, but I couldn’t really blame him. Things went from super fun to super sad. All I did was cry. He wasn’t looking for that. He wanted fun Maisie.”
“You might not blame him, but I do,” Hayes muttered, scooping up pulled pork on his fork. “Have you seen him since?”
She pushed the grits around with her plastic fork. “He called a while back. It was actually kind of sweet. I think he felt bad for the way he had acted. Wanted to make sure I was okay.”
Hayes’s eyes searched hers. “Are you okay?”
Emotion thickened her throat. She pushed past it. “I actually think I am.” She hesitated, trying to collect her thoughts, not even really sure herself. “My heart changed with Laurel’s murder. I just don’t think I ever knew the world could be so cruel. You always hear of bad things happening, but how could something so horrible happen to someone so good?” She glanced to her food, so Hayes wouldn’t see the welling of her tears. “It took me a very long time to see the beauty in things again. And to realize that, while there are evil people, there are more good.”
A long sigh fell from his lips, and he gave
a slow nod. “I can understand that.”
She wiped the fallen tear before he noticed. “So, to answer your dating question, I didn’t date the year after Laurel left us, because I didn’t want anyone in my life.”
“What about the year after that?”
She looked at him, finding his attentive stare on her. I helped you, she wanted to say. But not wanting to make him feel bad about taking up her time, she said instead, “The brewery started to take off and that took over my life.”
He stared at her intently, a million unknowns hanging in the air, and she looked out and found Ralph giving her a cute smile from behind his tent. She smiled back and gave him a little wave. He returned it, but then the smile vanished and he looked away.
One look at Hayes told her why. Hayes glared in the guy’s direction. Don’t, his expression demanded. This time, she smiled. “So, enough about me, you did spend the night in jail. Are you sure you’re really okay?”
Hayes looked at her with something that looked like possession flaring in his eyes. “I am now.”
7
By the time they got back to their room for the night at the Range, Hayes was almost too spent from the long day to notice the hellish room they’d walked into. Almost. What had Clara been thinking when booking this place?
An oil painting of a deer in the forest hung over the queen-size bed with the brown and orange floral bedspread, the same orange color of the shag carpet. While the place itself looked clean enough, Hayes suspected it hadn’t been redecorated since the 1970s.
“Yeah, it went really well,” Maisie said into her phone to Clara as she shut the door behind her.
Hayes dropped their overnight bags by the end of the bed and then pointed toward the bathroom.
“Shower,” he mouthed.
Maisie gave him a thumbs-up and said to Clara, “Right? I was thrilled with how excited everyone seemed to be. My Instagram was blowing up all night.” Hayes headed for the bathroom door, but paused before closing it as she added, “Yup, Hayes was fine. Don’t worry. We’re all good here.”
Hayes didn’t feel fine at all. He felt fraught with tension when he shut the door, noting the constant dripping coming from the pedestal sink as he ditched his clothes. He imagined all Clara did was worry. All the time. He didn’t blame her. She was a single mother, with a world of responsibility on her shoulders. But damn, he wished her sisters could have seen her tonight. The crowd loved her. All that charm, cuteness, and spunk bewitched them.
They hadn’t been the only ones. His father’s warning weighed heavy on Hayes’s mind all night. What the fuck was he doing? He had no business putting his hands on Maisie until his head and heart were right.
Leaving his clothes in a heap on the floor, he turned the water on as hot as he could stand it. The old pipes began creaking and complaining as he stepped into the shower and pulled the clear shower curtain closed. The lack of water pressure didn’t bode well, but it would deal with the grime and dirt from the festival, which only added to the stench on him from sitting in a jail cell all night.
He used the shampoo in the little bottle to wash his hair, his mind slowly drifting back to Maisie. His head kept telling him to keep his distance from her, but one look at her tonight and those roadblocks vanished. Her sweet eyes pulling him in, the gorgeous curves of her body moving beneath his hands, her lips that he’d almost believed were handmade for him. He remembered her soft moans from last night, the feel of her tight heat around him. The hot water rushed down his chest to his hard cock and his hand followed. Desperate not to feel pain or heartache, he shut his eyes, leaned his head back into the water, and he grasped his dick and squeezed. Slow. Easy. Tight. Just the way her body had. He groaned as he ran his hand down to the base and then up again.
“You’re not having all the fun without me, are you?”
Hayes couldn’t find the strength to drop his hand. Fuck no. He stroked himself a little faster as she slipped into the bathroom and slowly removed her clothes before coming into the shower. Her soft blond hair rested along the curves of her breasts, her small dark nipples puckered, begging for his mouth. He fought to find logic. To remember the reason having her again was a bad idea, but he couldn’t acknowledge a single thing but the hot raging need burning through him. Still, he shook with the building tension and admitted, “I’m trying very hard not to touch you again.”
“Hmmm.” She stepped closer, and he slid his hands over her backside as she pressed all of her incredible curves against him. “Does this make it harder not to touch me?”
His cock twitched against her stomach, and he grinned. “It makes something harder.”
Her cheeks flushed as she took a step back and licked her lips, taking in his hardened length. The hunger on her face could make him come alone, but there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d finish that fast. He needed this. Needed her. Her hooded eyes finally lifted to his face again and entranced him as she slowly lowered to her knees, taking his cock in her hands.
“How about now, Hayes?” she rasped, tearing him apart with those beautiful eyes. “Do you want me to touch you?”
He brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “Fuck, yeah.”
With the spray of the shower beating at his back, she slowly took him in, dragging her lips across him before she twirled her tongue around the tip. Overwhelmed by the pleasure, he tossed his head back and moaned. The water soaked his face and ran down his chest to where she played, caressing him with long, slow strokes while her mouth followed.
And she didn’t stop, not for a second, not until she had him moaning and trembling and about ready to fucking blow.
Only then did she gently drag her teeth along his shaft. He shuddered, and she laughed huskily. “You like that, huh?”
“I like everything you do to me,” he growled, and her squeal of laughter echoed in the shower when he gathered her in his arms. He quickly hit the faucet, turning off the shower.
Soaking wet, and not caring, he had them out of the bathroom and back in the bedroom, where he’d noticed she’d already pulled back the bedspread, leaving only the sheets, as well as a condom.
She laughed again when he tossed her onto the bed, tummy down. Staring at her round bottom, her body available to him, he reached for the condom and sheathed himself. He kissed the dimples on her bottom before sliding his tongue up her spine until he reached her neck. “I like you like this.” She tilted her head and he nipped her shoulder before running kisses up to her ear. “Waiting for me.” He smiled when her fingers dug into the bedsheets. He understood that uncontrollable need. Fuck, he felt it too. Every day for the last few months. Urgent to possess her, he rose enough only to enter her before covering her body with his again. Heat and passion fueled his thrusts, but the friendship between them was how he knew this body, understood her soul. And with every moan she gave, every movement mirrored, meeting him thrust for thrust, they went to a place where no one else could take them. A place that was theirs.
And yet…and yet…it still wasn’t enough. Needing to get closer, he slid his arms up the bed until he had his fingers threaded with hers. Her breath grew ragged with his hard, slapping thrusts. Wanting more, needing everything, he moved harder and faster, skin smacking against skin. Sweat coating his body as the musky scent of their sex infused the air. Her scent. Maisie. Her sweet body under his, he squeezed his arms tighter, wanting to shield her from a cruel world. He moved faster, wanting her to get there. Harder. And harder yet. To see her fall apart, let go of everything all because she trusted him.
When she got there, he did too.
He went near cross-eyed as she clamped around him with her climax. Her screams of pleasure taking any control he had left. Only then did he give in to his body’s demands and came with a roar and a shudder.
When he finally found the strength to move, he slid off her, onto his back, trying to catch his breath.
“Question,” Maisie said, breathless. “Why were you trying not to touch me before?”
/> Hayes blew out a slow breath and then turned his head, catching her soft, curious eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Her smile was slow and totally Maisie. Confident, and a little sassy too. “Nothing about that hurt, Hayes.” Her smile fell, brows drew together. “Besides, you couldn’t hurt me. I trust you.”
He glanced back up to the popcorn ceiling and shut his eyes. The heat left his body in a rush, the silence ripping into him. She was wrong. Hayes had hurt her. He broke her world apart, removed a part of her soul.
Hayes couldn’t remember the drive to Maisie’s house from Denver. Or even knocking on the door very late into the night. He only remembered one thing. The moment the light went out in her eyes. He couldn’t even recall what he’d told her, or if he’d been gentle about relaying the message about Laurel’s death. He could only watch as her knees took the brunt of her fall, the vomit flew from her mouth, landing in a pile on the hardwood. Hayes went to reach for Maisie, but his feet would not take him there. His soul frozen in such a state, he could not even think of what to do next. The only thing he’d known was he needed to come and tell Maisie what happened to Laurel before she saw the murder on the news.
“No!” she screamed.
Hayes was meant to protect. To defend. He failed Laurel, and he failed Maisie too. Her screams echoed around him, the tears that should rain down his cheeks were stuck somewhere deep inside him.
“Hayes.”
Hands suddenly gripped him, shaking him. “What happened?”
He blinked, realizing Clara stood in front of him. “Laurel’s dead,” he said, but his voice didn’t sound like his own.
“No,” Maisie screamed again. “No. No. Laurel. No.”
Hayes wobbled on his feet, his skin feeling too hot and too cold all at once. But then his gaze fell to the stairs. Clara’s son, Mason, stood on the stairs, crying. Clara released Maisie and ran for her son. Slowly, as if time no longer existed, Hayes looked down at Maisie. Amelia hugged her tight, holding her in the way Hayes should have. Laurel would have wanted that. Laurel would be worried about her.
Sassy Blonde: USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR Page 9