I searched his cool, calm expression and stared into the eyes I’d been staring into for years. He’d helped me grow when my father decided to take a back seat in my life. Rinehart had been there every step of the way, pushing Derek and me to work harder, move faster, and be better. He assumed the role he knew I needed someone to fill.
I respected the hell out of him for it.
“I know what you’re saying, sir,” I said.
“Good. Now get out of here. I have work to do.”
I closed his door behind me and found myself smiling as I walked back down the hall and out of the garage to my truck.
28
Mel
Kylee was sitting in the back seat, swinging her legs, as I drove her home from school on Tuesday afternoon. “What time is Hayden picking us up?” she asked, all smiles as I glanced at her in the rear-view mirror.
“Right after we get home. We’ll have time to change, and then he’ll probably be there. He said something about getting milkshakes, too.”
“Milkshakes! Yum!”
I smiled as we pulled into the driveway. Once we were in the house, Kylee dropped her school bag at the front door and bolted to her bedroom, where I could hear her tearing open drawers and changing into something a little warmer. The boardwalk would be a little windy, and it was always a couple degrees cooler right on the ocean.
I rolled my eyes and picked her bag up to put it on one of the kitchen stools. Then I went and changed as well.
As I was halfway through pulling on my jeans, the doorbell rang.
“Be right there!” I yelled as I hopped in place to pull the jeans over my hips. Once they were on, I buttoned them up and hurried down the hall, my heels striking the hardwood.
I opened the door and found Hayden there, smiling at me. “Hey, good looking,” he said.
“Hey,” I said. My cheeks already hurt from smiling so big. “Come on in. Kylee and I are just getting changed, and then we’ll both be ready to go.”
Hayden stepped inside just as Kylee exploded through her bedroom door in a whirlwind of joyful laughter and excited cries. I patted her head as she blew by me to hug Hayden’s knees. “Don’t knock him over, Kylee. Goodness. I’ll be right back. I just have to change my shirt. Are the two of you okay here alone for a second?”
Hayden looked down at Kylee and widened his eyes a little. He stepped away from her and looked nervously back up at me. “You’re going to leave me alone with… with her?”
Kylee giggled as he backed fearfully away.
I laughed at the two of them and their silliness, and the sounds of their giggling followed me down the hall into my bedroom. I switched out of my black work button-up shirt for a loose white pull-over blouse, pinned my hair up in a loose bun, and slipped on a pair of sandals. Then I went back out and joined the two children, and Hayden took us out to his truck.
He made a big show of buckling Kylee in. She loved the attention, and truth be told, I loved watching him with her. Everything was fun and educational. He took his time with her and showed impressive patience when she asked him dozens of questions on the drive to the boardwalk.
When we arrived, she’d completely lost interest in me, her own mother, and wanted to walk hand in hand with Hayden, who pointed out random things to her along the way, like old anchors mounted to the boardwalk and fishing signs.
At the halfway mark down the pier, we ducked into the arcade. It was loud as hell and swimming with obnoxious kids. But they all gave us space, and I realized it was because we were with Hayden. No teenagers tried to boot Kylee off any games. Instead, they gave us a wide berth, and Kylee was free to try games she’d only ever been able to stare at and watch other kids play.
Hayden showed her all his favorites and shared tips and tricks of how to beat levels. She listened in rapture, completely fascinated by anything he said or did. I realized I was the same way. Every word that fell from his mouth was a blessing. He was truly a wonderful man, and all the feelings swirling around inside my gut were starting to create turmoil in my head.
My heart wanted him, but my brain was screaming at me that this was a mistake.
I didn’t want to get hurt again. I knew I couldn’t lose somebody the way I’d lost my husband. I just couldn’t.
And Hayden was a huge risk in every sense of the word.
But he was so good with Kylee. And he was so good with me.
I sighed as I watched the two of them play some sort of old style arcade game. Kylee was giggling and frantically trying to beat him. Even though I didn’t understand the rules, I could clearly see that Hayden had it in the bag. Kylee desperately tried to win, but he beat her, and then gave her a high five.
“Good game, Kylee. You put up a good fight!”
She blinked up at him. “I lost.”
“Yeah? So? One of us had to. And it was the first time you’ve ever played. If you want to beat me, you’ll have to practice.”
Kylee narrowed her eyes at him. “Want to play again?”
Hayden threw his head back and laughed, then fished more coins out of his pocket. The two of them went back at it, and I stood to the side, watching. Marvelling.
What if this is what the rest of my life could be like? What if I could have him around all the time? He would be a great role model for Kylee. He was clever and supportive, and clearly, he was going to show her that hard work pays off, that she couldn’t just get something because she wanted it.
But I would have to share him with the fires.
I swallowed and looked down at my feet.
After the arcade, we went back out onto the boardwalk and got milkshakes. Hayden got chocolate, I got vanilla, and Kylee got strawberry. A flavor for each of us.
Kylee skipped along ahead of us, pausing to look through cracks in the boardwalk and down at the gentle waves below. In the calm spots, she could sometimes spot fish, and she would point down and call us over.
As she walked, Hayden nudged my shoulder with his. “What’s up? You got quiet when we were at the arcade.”
I pursed my lips together and shook my head. “It’s nothing. I just got a bit lost in thought. That’s all.”
“Thought about what?” he pushed.
I didn’t want to look at him; I couldn’t.
He took my hand and rubbed his thumb over my knuckles. Kylee was far enough up ahead that she couldn’t hear us. “Tell me what’s wrong, Mel. Please.”
I sighed. “I just… seeing you with Kylee in the arcade made me realize that I want this. Us. Whatever this is. But I can’t have you become a part of her life—our life—if something bad is going to happen to you.”
“Nothing bad is going to happen to me,” he said. And he sounded so damn confident, like he knew he was invincible.
But he wasn’t. None of us were.
I shook my head. “You don’t know that. Nobody can know that. And with what you do, there are such high risks. I’ve already lost someone I loved before. And it was sudden and unexpected, and it ripped my heart out. It destroyed me, Hayden.” I finally met his gaze. I could feel tears stinging my eyes, and I shook my head fiercely to get rid of them.
“Your husband?”
“Yes. Evan. He was my everything. My light. My whole world. And our life was so good. Kylee was just two years old. Everything had fallen into place for us. He was working hard—incredibly hard—and he had to take a flight to New York City for a business meeting. He went. He got a promotion. I could stay home and take care of Kylee, and we wouldn’t have to pay for daycare. He called me the morning before he flew home. He was on the tarmac. He told me he had a present for Kylee. Something he knew he had to buy the minute he saw it.” I stopped talking and put a hand over my mouth as a sob broke free.
I hadn’t cried for Evan in over a year. And now, here I was on a date with another man that I was really starting to care for, crying over my dead husband. I felt like such a fool. And I was putting Hayden in an awkward spot.
When he pulled me in for
a hug and rested his chin on top of my head, I was surprised. He stroked my back and spoke soothingly to me. “It’s all right, Mel. It’s all right. Just let it out.”
So I did. I clung to his shirt for dear life and cried against him on the middle of the boardwalk. I thanked my lucky stars that Kylee never noticed, and when I finally had myself under control, I pulled away and wiped my eyes dry.
Hayden cupped my cheek in one hand. “You don’t have to tell me the rest.”
“I want to,” I whispered. “There’s not much else to say.”
He nodded. “All right.”
I took a deep, shaky breath. “His plane went down. Something malfunctioned in one of the jets, and there was an explosion. He died alone and terrified. And that was just it. All of a sudden, everything I knew was ripped out of my hands, and I somehow had to start all over and do what I could to take care of my daughter on my own.” I sniffed and ran the back of my hand under my nose. “He used to call our house his sanctuary. A private glade. A slice of paradise.”
“Hence the name of your restaurant,” Hayden said softly.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
Hayden sighed. “I had no idea you had been through all of this, Mel. I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do.”
I shook my head. “Everything that could be done was done. I’ve moved on. And I’m all right. Sometimes, it just creeps up on me. The memories. The bad feelings.”
“I get it.”
“And that’s why you scare me so much,” I whispered. My eyes welled up with fresh tears.
Hayden’s jaw clenched, and he wrapped his arms around me again. He kissed the side of my head and rubbed my back. “I’m going to be all right, Mel. I promise. You don’t have to worry about me.”
29
Hayden
I put the truck in park and took off my seat belt. My father’s house loomed before me through the windshield, and I gripped the steering wheel as I looked up at the many windows and balconies.
I never should have told him I’d help him build the shed. The last thing I wanted to do was see him today. Despite having Mel’s support, and Rinehart’s and my whole crew, I couldn’t shake the disappointment that my father hadn’t come to see me while I was in the hospital. Not only that, but he hadn’t even bothered to call and check in on me to see if I’d been released or not.
I wasn’t even sure if he knew I was coming today to help him build the shed.
I sighed and opened my door. I slid out of the truck, my boots striking the pavement, and walked up to the front door. There was no sense in delaying any longer than necessary. I knew I would go in and help him sooner or later. And the sooner I went in and started, the sooner I’d be on my way home.
I knocked on the front door, and Genevieve opened it less than ten seconds later. She smiled up at me and stepped aside to let me in. “Good morning, Hayden. It’s so good to see you. You look well.”
“I feel good,” I said. “How are you, Genevieve?”
She closed and locked the front door behind me. “I’m great. Thank you for asking. Your father is already outside, getting ready to start. I was about to bring out some fresh lemonade. Can I get you anything?”
“No. That’s all right. Thank you.”
She gave me a little bow and disappeared into the kitchen. I walked out the back doors and spotted my father working at the cleared plot. All the timber was there, and he had on his plaid shirt, jeans, and tool belt. He looked like the man I remembered spending my childhood with.
He’d been a handy guy who always made sure to keep things around the house in tip top shape. This was before he came into a lot of money after his uncle passed away, leaving him a decent sized fortune. My mother, unfortunately, never lived to see those days.
She died when I was only fourteen. She attended all my football games until the cancer made it impossible for her to be outside or around too many people for fear of getting sicker. Then she was bedridden. She died in the hospital bed with me and Dad by her side.
At least she never knew the man he became.
She knew the man he was. He’d been a hard-working construction foreman who was a jack of all trades. He could build or fix anything that needed fixing, and he had a passion for it. I grew up learning about cars from him. He explained how motors worked, how the mechanics of a car worked to make it drive. He’d taught me a lot of what I knew. Until he stopped talking to me in general.
I was fond of my childhood memories. They were mostly good ones, minus the loss of my mother. That had taken a toll on me. I think that was why football became such a huge part of my life. It was something my father and I could both bury ourselves in, and it made the pain feel a little less sharp, a little less crippling. Football was this bright shiny new thing, and I was really good at it, and it lit a new path that he and I started running down at a dead sprint.
And then when it blew up in our faces, everything just fell apart.
I dragged my hand down my face and psyched myself up for what was to come. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. I crossed the deck, took the four steps down to the pool patio, and walked around it. I came up beside my father as he started laying timber in place for the frame.
He didn’t so much as look up at me.
“Hey, Dad,” I said.
“Morning. Did you bring your tools?”
“No. You have triple of everything.”
He made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat and nodded at the shop attached to the side of the house. “Door is unlocked. Go get what you need. I wanted to get started earlier than this.”
Then you could have told me to be here earlier, I thought bitterly as I slipped my hands in my pockets and crossed the patio to the back door of the shop. I let myself in and was greeted with the smell of motor oil and grease. I went to the back wall and grabbed a tool belt for myself, then loaded it up with everything I might need. It wouldn’t be much. Hammer. Clip-on bag of nails. Measuring tape. Level. Pencil.
When I had everything I needed, I walked back out, pausing only for a second to admire the gunmetal gray sixty-seven fastback my father kept parked in the shop. It had been his car when he was a teenager. It never ran when I was a kid, and it just sat in the garage for years on end. It was something he and my mother fought about all the time. One of the only things, actually.
Then when he came into his inheritance, he restored it completely on his own. He barely ever drove it now, which seemed like a waste, but I never said anything about it. Just like everything else.
I met him back at the shed plot, and we started to work silently. I hammered in nails at my corner, and he worked opposite of me until we met at the other corners. Once the base was done, we set to building the rest of the frame, starting with the four corners and then working our way outward, laying two by fours every foot.
“Where is Genevieve with that lemonade?” my father grumbled after we’d been working for about half an hour.
“Maybe she forgot,” I said.
“I don’t pay her to forget something as simple as lemonade.”
I sighed. “How about I go check on her?”
“No,” he said quickly. “I’d rather wait and see how long it takes her to get her shit together.”
I wondered what he was so angry about. He had a shit ton of money. He had people who worked for him day in and day out to make sure everything was just how he wanted. He was healthy, in his late fifties, and lived in the sort of place people dreamed of living in.
And yet it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough for him.
I spotted Genevieve coming out the back door and wished there was some way I could warn her about what she was walking into. She hurried across the patio, the tray of two glasses and a lemonade pitcher balanced precariously in her hands, and she set it down on a collapsible table she had tucked under her right arm.
“Thanks,” I said when my father all but ignored her.
She poured two glasses and wiped her brow. �
��You’re welcome. Sorry it took so long. I made it from scratch.”
I blinked at her. “Seriously?”
She nodded. “Yes. I always do.”
I took a sip. “It’s delicious.”
My father took his, took a sip, and set it down without a word. It didn’t seem to faze Genevieve in the least. “Well, I’ll leave you boys to your work. I have some cleaning to do. Just give me a holler if you need anything.”
She took her leave and left me alone with my father.
I drained the rest of my glass. “So, she hadn’t forgotten,” I said. I probably should have left it alone, but I felt the need to defend Genevieve. My father had spoken ill of her while she was working hard to make something special.
“She’s never taken that long before.”
“Are you seriously pissed because you had to wait on your lemonade?” I asked. The words sort of fell out of me, and once they were out, there was no way to put them back in.
I glared at my father as he straightened and hooked his hammer back into his toolbelt. “What?”
I shook my head. “I just don’t get it.”
“Get what?”
“You!” I said, gesturing at him. “You’re so angry all the fucking time. And you’re talking shit about Genevieve when she’s the most loyal employee you’ve ever had. I know for a fact nobody else has ever put up with your bad attitude as well as she does.”
“Watch how you talk to me, boy.”
“Why?” I asked, spitting out a bark of laughter. There was anger brewing inside me that I hadn’t felt in a long time.
My father shook his head, took his hammer out of his belt, and started hammering nails into the wood.
I stared at him. Was he really going to blow this off, too?
No. I wasn’t going to let him. This was happening right now whether he liked it or not.
I took my tool belt off and tossed it down on the grass. My father glanced at me then at the belt. “Something you want to say, Hayden?”
Light Up The Night: A Bad Boy Firefighter Novel Page 17