“What’s your deal?”
“What are we doing here?” I ask, hoping to change the subject.
“You act like you’ve got a stick’s rammed up your ass. Why?”
“I’m on my period,” I say, afraid to look at him and give away how my feelings have changed.
“You were on your period last week. I remember because you used it as an excuse to order two desserts during lunch.”
“I’m just moody. Why do I need a reason?”
Hayes studies me. “Why won’t you look at me?”
“I am looking at you.”
Hayes frowns. “Not like before.”
Forcing my gaze to meet his, I mumble, “You get to be in a bad mood all the time. Why can’t I have an off day?”
“So nothing’s wrong?”
“No.”
Hayes calls my bluff when his lips meet mine. I can’t enjoy our kiss. I don’t push him away, but I can’t give him what he wants. Hayes nips at my bottom lip, showing his anger at how unresponsive I am.
I stare into his eyes, and he studies me hard. Hayes is a smart guy, but he doesn’t get why I don’t want him. I could end the suspense and explain why he and I can’t work. I don’t though.
The words are too difficult, and I’m too weak to face reality yet. I wanted something amazing to happen between Hayes and me. Now I realize it never will.
EIGHTEEN - HAYES
Candy claims a bad day is why her usual loud mouth has turned silent on me. She’s lying, of course. Her bad day stretches into a second one and then a third. When I kiss her, my lips don’t meet resistance as much as indifference. Worse is how she doesn’t smile anymore. She refuses to even fucking look at me.
In the past, Candy talked so much and answered me so openly that I believed I knew her. I don’t know shit.
She sits in the next room, working at her desk, and I don’t know why she’s turned cold. I run through possibilities, but none make sense. There’s no other man to steal away her affections. I’d know if anyone so much as flirted with her.
One minute, Candy was smiling and teasing me. Then she was pissed. Now I’m pissed. I asked why she was upset, and she fucking lied. I’m not asking again. She’s a great assistant, and I care whether she lives or dies. She matters to me, but I won’t beg. Not for her. Not for anyone.
My life feels too quiet since she turned cold. In fact, I’m desperate enough for a break from the quiet that I invite Moot to my house to watch a football game. Friendship isn’t something I enjoy, but I’ll pretend if it gets my mind off Candy.
“What the hell?” Moot asks, looking at the thank you cards on my fridge. “Do you have kids I don’t know about?”
I study the colorful pictures and try not to let Moot’s question piss me off. Talking about Candy does not in any way keep me from thinking about her.
“Those belong to my assistant’s kids.”
“Candy?”
“Yeah, that would be her name.”
“Ah, problems in paradise, huh?” Moot asks, opening the fridge to get himself a beer.
“She does good work in the office.”
Grinning, Moot takes his beer to the adjoining family room. He reclines in a chair and sighs.
“I forgot how great leather chairs feel.”
I sit on the couch next to Nightmare, who doesn’t even stir. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hate having someone in my house.”
“Why invite me?” Moot asks, leaning back as his legs go up.
“You were loyal. Few people are. Allowing you into my house is my way of putting you above other people.”
Moot smirks. “I do feel above other people, so your gesture is working.”
“Asshole,” I mutter.
We silently watch the pre-game until Moot glances at me. “Wilburn women are tricky. Honey liked me until she didn’t. I never saw it coming. You can’t take it personal, man.”
“I’m not taking anything in any way. Stop talking.”
“Don’t be like that. Sharing your feelings is healthy.” I glare at him, and Moot laughs. “They taught us about feelings in prison. It was a group thing. I got to see evil fuckers cry about how their daddies never hugged them. Very enlightening.”
“Sounds awful.”
“It was a way to waste a few hours. In prison, time is one of the biggest fucking obstacles. It was like school. Time frigging crawled.”
I smile at his comment, but nothing shakes the funk Candy’s bitchiness gave me. I wonder if she even knows how she’s messed up my life. Hell, does she even fucking care?
“I liked Honey,” Moot says, startling me from my thoughts. “I never dated many sweet women. Once when I got in a fight, Honey put Band-Aids on my face.”
Moot laughs at the memory. He’s happy about reminiscing, but I suddenly see us as two lonely men approaching middle age. Never before did I feel my life lacked a single fucking thing. Before Candy, I was happy. Moot should be happy to be free. Instead, we waste time thinking about two women out of billions.
“Four kids,” I say and chug my beer. “Honey might be sweet, and she might put Band-Aids on your face, and I admit she still looks good for pounding out a litter, but she still has four fucking kids.”
“She’s also married,” Moot murmurs, leaning back with his eyes closed.
“You know he could be under cement within a few hours.”
“Yeah, but I’m not going to kill some lady’s husband so that I can rekindle old times.”
I think to mention Mayer’s violent behavior. I’ve considered saying something before, but I know Moot. He went to prison to help a stranger. How would he handle knowing his old flame was getting smacked around? He’d be out the door in a flash.
“Besides, she dumped you,” I say rather than mentioning Asshole Andrew.
“True.”
“You only think you missed out because you spent seven years in prison. That’d make anyone nostalgic.”
Moot’s eyes remain closed, and we fall into silence as the game starts. Whenever something happens to cause the crowd to cheer, he opens his eyes. I stare at the screen, but my mind is on Candy.
I know she isn’t watching the game. Her brother loved sports and taught her the basics, but she doesn’t follow any teams. Candy’s open book routine made her easy to get to know. It also makes her silence worse. I wish I thought she was purposely fucking with me so I might hate her.
I love hating people. My enemies list is long and varied. When I’m tense and need help sleeping, I close my eyes and mentally run through all of the names. I’m asleep before I hit the hundredth moron.
Candy should be on the list for turning against me. I don’t allow that shit from anyone, but I still hope she’ll open up to me again. We can go back to how things were, and I won’t even ask for anything more.
Bullshit.
Being friends will never be enough. I want Candy. Not just for chat time in the office, but I want her in my bed. I don’t know how to make that happen now. She comes with baggage and now an attitude problem.
I wouldn’t mind returning to the days when I only needed my damn dog to keep me company.
NINETEEN - CANDY
This morning, Hayes does nothing to hide his bad mood. He walks into the building and kicks my desk on his way to his office. When I bring him a cup of coffee, he glares at me.
“Women,” he grunts as I walk away.
Despite his anger, I know he won’t fire me. He might currently hate me, but he hates the temps more. I also suspect he doesn’t want me working for anyone else. In his mind, I belong to him, and he isn’t changing this arrangement even if I’m currently on his shit list.
When Hayes goes to breakfast and runs his errands, he doesn’t bring me along. He doesn’t tell me he’s leaving either. This is my punishment, and I feel the sting of his silence.
An hour after Hayes returns, two vehicles pull into the parking lot. The trucks turn, so their beds face the building. I walk outside to f
ind out what they want.
“We have an order to put sod in the back area,” the head landscaper says.
“An order from whom?”
“Hayes ordered it. Is there a problem?” he asks, handing me the work order.
Looking over the square slips of sod, I ask like an idiot, “It’s for the back of the building?”
“Hayes told me to bring the best sod I had and make sure it was safe for kids. Is there a problem?”
I gesture for him to go to work. As I walk inside, my heart clenches and I feel like I might fall over. Hayes ordered this grass for my kids. How long has he left the backyard a muddy ditch? Now he makes a change. For my kids. For me.
A man incapable of love wouldn’t have ordered the sod. Hayes isn’t a monster. My fears are stupid, and I need to be smart.
Without thinking, I rush into Hayes’s office where he stands next to his desk. He knows I’m here. I see the way his shoulders tense, but he doesn’t look at me. I’ve hurt his ego, yet he still ordered the sod.
“Hayes,” I say when he won’t look at me.
He turns, frowning ugly at me. I feel foolish under his gaze, and the right words are difficult to find.
I reach up to cup his face and then lift my lips, but Hayes doesn’t kiss me. Letting out a grunt, he turns away.
“That ship sailed, babe.”
A punch to the gut, his words nearly topple me over. Is he really so cold? Am I such a fool to believe otherwise?
“Have it your way,” I say, hiding my hurt.
I don’t reach the door before Hayes’s hands grab my waist. He turns me just enough for our lips to meet and I lose my breath.
His arms wrap around me, lifting me off the ground while he presses me against the wall. I’m a doll in his embrace. Fragile in ways I’ve never known.
Hayes lets me down and steps away. His gaze flashes to the door, and I suspect he remembers we’re not alone in the office.
“Tonight, we’re going out to dinner,” he demands.
“I don’t have anyone to watch the twins,” I mumble while trying to compose myself.
“Bring them. I’ll spend the night at your place.”
“My kids sleep down the hall,” I whisper as his nearly black gaze engulfs me.
“I’m not loud when I fuck.”
Something about that four-letter word breaks through my lustful haze. I want him so badly I am nodding at the thought of him coming to my house and fucking me in the room next to my children’s. My desire-mired brain approves of this plan until that one word awakens me.
“You’re the devil,” I whisper.
Hayes smiles, thinking I’m complimenting him.
“I was wrong to come in here,” I say, backing away. “I should have given you a thank you note. Bought you a gift basket. Not this,” I mumble, hurrying out of the room.
Hayes follows me. “You’re certifiable. I better make sure the medical plan covers mental health.”
I stop at my desk and pretend to focus on paperwork. My mind is reeling, and my body aches for his touch, but I can’t give into my basest needs.
I feel his arm around my waist and begin to protest, but he’s already lifted me off the ground. Carrying me under his arm like a package to be delivered, he walks into the meeting room and shuts the door.
“What the fuck?” he demands, setting me down.
“I always thought I was so smart, but I'd just never been tempted before. Now I am tempted to be stupid, and I’m failing just like Honey did.”
“Because of me?” he barks. “I’m the fucking bad guy. The devil. You’re dumping this bullshit on me?”
“Don’t act so shocked. You’re a big, scary, rich guy who’s my boss. You have the power to ruin me. I mean, you get that right? Your dick hasn’t drained your brain power, has it? Fearing you is the sanest shit I’ve ever done.”
“Well fuck you,” he says, resting his hands on his hips. “Fuck your curse too.”
“Some people are naturally attracted to bad choices. You mock that kind of thinking all you want, but it killed my brother and wore down my mother. Look at fucking Honey.”
“You’re not any of those fucking people, you dipshit.”
“I was going to fuck you right next to where my kids sleep!” I cry, “I never would do that crap, but you make me weak and dumb as fuck.”
“Bullshit, idiot.”
“Eat shit, asshole.”
Hayes narrows his raging eyes. “Why did you kiss me?”
“You got that sod for the kids, right?”
“No, it’s for my dog,” he lies.
“You make me forget about everything besides you.”
“You don’t affect me at all.”
I smile slightly. “I wish things were different.”
“Why? Things are fucking fine. You’re the problem. Just change your crazy thinking and everything will be peachy fucking keen.”
“I should be turned off by your rude mouth, but you cloud my thinking.”
Hayes crosses his arms and stares at me. Then he uncrosses them and shakes his head.
“You’re not worth the effort.”
Nodding, I only watch him and wish my confidence might return. Rather than storming out, Hayes crosses his arms again.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. No arguments. No bitching or whatever bullshit you might think up. You understand?”
I think to point out that I don’t know what I’m agreeing to and thus won’t agree to it. Instead, I keep my mouth shut. Hayes takes my silence as agreement.
“I’ll take you and those kids out for dinner. We’ll pretend to be friends. I won’t fuck you tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll figure what happens next. Tonight is a done deal, though. Fine?”
“Yes, but why do we have to pretend to be friends? After all this time, I’d assume we were friends.”
“I refuse to have women friends.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t have anything in common with women.”
“We have stuff in common.”
Hayes studies me. “Like what?”
“We both think you’re super. We both think I’m hot,” I say, and Hayes smirks.
“Anything else?”
“We both hate morons and think the Beatles are overrated.”
Hayes nods. “I fucking hate the Beatles.”
“We like coffee in the morning and bacon for breakfast.”
“Everyone likes that shit.”
“My sister drinks Pepsi with breakfast and eats turkey bacon. You can’t be friends with her.”
Hayes doesn’t want to smile, but his eyes give away his amusement. “No, I can’t. I’ll fucking survive without her playing buddy.”
“You and I are buddies.”
“We’re something. That’s for sure.”
I fix his collar and then ask, “What time do you want to meet for dinner?”
“I’ll pick you up.”
“Oh, that reminds me of something else we have in common,” I say, crossing my arms and mimicking him. “We’re both horrible drivers. Try not to kill my kids tonight.”
“Fuck you and your bad driving bullshit.”
“Wait, did you not know you were an awful driver?”
Hayes rolls his eyes and opens the door. I follow him out of the room.
“Where are we eating?”
“I know a place. You’ll find out where when I pick you up.”
Unsure how to feel, I only watch Hayes disappear out the backdoor to supervise the landscapers. I still taste him on my lips and crave another kiss.
The man makes me feel like a million bucks, but the feeling is a lie. Hayes is not family man material. Sure, he talks about an heir, and he shows compassion for Chipper and Cricket. He isn’t the monster people think, but his future isn’t my future.
As long as I can remember our different paths, I’ll avoid wanting more from Hayes than he can provide. Who knows? I might enjoy a fiery relationship with Hayes while retain
ing my job and sanity. I promise myself it’s possible.
TWENTY - HAYES
I expected Candy to pick a different rental house. The little yellow one always gets positive comments from broads. Instead, she chose the blocky, brick house. It’s the kind of house I’d have picked. Like the fuckwit I’ve become, I take her choice as a sign that she and I are made for each other.
“Why are you in a bad mood?” she asks after opening the front door.
She’s wearing a pale gray sweater and blue jeans. Without trying, she’s got my dick rock hard.
“I’m not. Are you ready?”
“Don’t be mean to my kids. You can treat me like a turd, but they’re off limits.”
“Don’t be a bitch and just get ready.”
Candy walks outside and maneuvers me away from the door.
“What is your problem?”
“You make me a fucking asshole.”
“No way are you dumping this on me.”
Sighing, I rub my neck and kick at the ground.
“Are you throwing a fit?” she asks.
“Fuck you, Candy.”
We glare at one another, both confused about why I’m in such a bad fucking mood. Her expression shifts from bitchy impatience to something her kids likely know well.
“I’m sorry I got weird with you,” Candy tenderly says like I’m a whiny bitch. “I didn’t know how to say what needed to be said. I’m not great at that stuff, but neither are you. It’s one of those things we have in common.”
“I wish you were a bitch,” I mutter. “I wish you were a horrible fucking cunt so that I could hate you.”
“I sometimes wish you were ugly, so I wouldn’t want to touch you.”
Her words don’t tease me nearly as much as her tone. I know she’s messing with me, but it still fucking works. Even shaking my head, I smile.
“If I piss you off, or you get stupid again, just tell me what’s happening,” I say, caressing a lock of her hair. “I’m not a moody chick, and I won’t fire you. I can handle knowing what you’re thinking, and you should never assume I’m a mind reader. When it comes to chicks wanting anything more complicated than a desire to fuck, I need shit spelled out.”
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