“Wash your hair?” He opens my door and I get in.
“No.”
He cocks an arrogant brow. “Just no?”
“I want more from you, but not here. I need a little time.”
“Works for me. I’ll see you tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at six and we can go to dinner.”
“I can’t.” He gives me a look. “No, really, I can’t. Tomorrow night’s payroll and I’m closing so Leslie and Lucius can have a date night.”
Hayden put one hand on the top of my door, an easy feat considering his over-six-foot height. “I’ll bring you dinner. We’ll eat once you’ve closed up shop.”
“I…” Crap. I don’t have a reason to say no to that. “Okay.”
He bites the side of his lip, then leans in for one more kiss that turns in to him pressing me against the driver’s seat while our hands explore each other.
“Stop,” I gasp as he fully cups one of my breasts. “Not here.”
He touches his forehead to mine, our breaths mingling together. His is minty and mine is cinnamon, thanks to the mints I ate at the beginning of class. “Not here,” he agrees, letting go of me. “Let go, sweetheart.”
“What?”
He nods at his pants. My hands are all but ripping at the button fly of his jeans. “Oh!” I snatch them away. “They have a mind of their own.” I wave them in the air. “You should see me when I fence. All over the place.”
His mouth quirks. “Hopefully, you’re using a long rapier.”
“Longer is better.”
“Indeed.” Stepping back, he carefully shuts my door and I roll my window down before starting up the engine. “Text me when you get home.”
“I don’t have your number.”
Bending over suddenly, he stands up again and hands my purse to me through the window. I don’t remember dropping that.
“Give me your phone and I’ll text myself.”
With a rueful smile, I grab my phone and hand it over. “Be sure to say it’s you, like with your last name.”
“Know a lot of Haydens, do you?”
“I cosplay—heard of it?”
He nods slowly. “It’s pretty mainstream now.”
“Anyway, one of the guys in our group cosplays as Hayden Christensen cosplaying as Finn. I don’t even attempt to understand that, but he always texts under Hayden’s name whenever there’s a convention coming to town.”
“Gotcha.” He hands my phone back to me, his fingers skimming mine. “I want to kiss you again.” But he runs his hand through his hair instead. “You make me feel like…things can get better for me. Like my very own ray of sunshine.”
His compliment makes me beam at him, something that’s very dangerous to do, considering our circumstances. And my lies. My secrets. My entire life.
Taking a chance, I say, “I’ll text you but if you don’t text me back, then don’t bother coming by the shelter tomorrow night.”
“Fair enough.” He takes another step back, crossing his very muscular arms over his powerful chest. “Night, sunshine.”
Don’t swoon. Don’t swoon. You can’t drive stick if you swoon and he’ll be forced to rescue you and…don’t think about that, either.
Gah. Just freaking drive.
“Night, Hayden.” Pressing the clutch, I shift gears and drive out of the parking lot.
Chapter 7
Hayden
As the hours drag on, I start to get worried about Saylor. She’s a single woman, all alone, with only her cat expecting her home. That can’t be safe. And I know all about safe.
How to properly install car seats. How to test fire extinguishers and smoke detectors. The most efficient way to put out a kitchen fire. Emergency plans for quick exits when a house is on fire. Why no one should ever book rooms at a hotel with more than eight floors—ladder trucks can’t reach that high.
What not to touch when wet—electrical burns are a huge problem during the summer. Saylor wouldn’t be in that category. I want to lick her while she’s wet.
My cock stirs.
Stop thinking about her. Think about work, about the new recruits you’ll have to help train tomorrow during a level-three emergency.
Grabbing my iPad, I go over the checklist and email several of the senior firemen, making sure I’m not forgetting anything.
My phone remains silent and my protective instincts rise.
“Son of a bitch.”
Finally, I give in and text her.
Me: Home yet?
Saylor: I don’t text and drive.
Which is Saylor talk for yes, I’m home.
Me: Smart. You wouldn’t believe how many accidents are caused by texting and driving.
Saylor: I’m sure Google could tell me. Google knows all.
Me: Does Google know what I’m thinking about right now?
Saylor: Too easy. Sex.
I laugh. This girl…this woman, actually. No filter and I can’t help but want to keep her talking.
Me: Too wrong. Work.
Saylor: Suuuuure you were.
Me: Okay, if you’d guessed sex ten seconds earlier, then you would have been correct.
Saylor: So talking to me made you think of work instead of sex?
Me: Trying to be a gentleman.
Saylor: Those are still around?
Me: My mother raised three. Well, she did the best she could.
Saylor: I’m home safe. Also, I completely spaced about a girls’ night out with Evangeline tomorrow night at Bohannon’s.
“Did she just shut me down?” I mutter to myself. What the hell happened in the space of time between us tearing at each other’s clothes in the parking lot to this bullshit? Buyer’s remorse? An old boyfriend popped up?
Honestly, I don’t get it. I thought…well, what I thought doesn’t matter.
Instead of arguing and making things weird and possibly uncomfortable, I go with a casual response.
Me: Have a great time.
Saylor: Thanks.
I wait for her to say more, but my phone doesn’t get any further messages from her.
Placing it on the bedside table, I get up and head to the kitchen. I rummage around in the fridge, pulling out leftover grilled chicken and hummus. Yeah, it’s later than I usually eat and yeah, I’ll pay for it tomorrow morning when I train with Hunter at the gym, but I’m hungry.
Actually, I’m horny, but I’ve already taken care of that reappearing need twice tonight. Which is probably why I’m hungry now.
I wash down my extra meal with a bottle of water, then make my way to the living room, stopping at the floor-to-ceiling windows that seem to frame the Charlotte skyline.
Besides the amazing views, the open floor plan is the other main reason why I bought the apartment. You can see everything from almost every room—only the two bedrooms, bathrooms, and laundry room have any sort of privacy. Something I like tremendously due to the fact that I grew up in a house with almost fifty rooms that were added on over the years by each subsequent Walker who inhabited it.
For some reason, I always felt trapped there. Never had enough room to breathe, even though I could always find a quiet place.
Hell, I still am trapped. Trapped by promises I should have never made. Trapped by my pride. Men don’t go back on their word. If I can’t be trusted to keep it over this, what else will I fail to do?
Let down the men and women who work with me? Let down myself?
“Shit,” I mutter as a multitude of consequences bombard me.
This is why I don’t do deep conversations. This is why I don’t do serious relationships. I can’t be trusted. Hell, I’ve fucked up so much since I graduated from Duke that I’m shocked I got this far.
Perhaps Saylor sees all that in me. Behind those hot glasses and pretty, brown eyes, her brain is warning her away from a guy like me.
Too bad for her it doesn’t make me want to stay away.
—
Hunter is waiting for me in the ring. He is already warmed up, his hair b
lack as ink with sweat. Pressing the ropes down, I smoothly enter the platform, gloves at the ready.
He pushes his mouth guard to one side. “Need more time?”
“Nope,” I say around mine.
We touch gloves and he comes out swinging. I let him get a few good punches in my midsection, grunting each time he connects.
Shit, that’s going to hurt even worse later.
“You need to stop worrying about that pretty face.”
“If I don’t have my looks, what do I have to offer anyone?”
He rolls his eyes and I use the distraction to hit him in the jaw with a hard left hook. “Concentrate,” I order.
His mouth kicks up at the corners, as best it can with the mouth guard in place. “Glad you decided to finally show up.”
We go at each other for a few rounds, finally stopping when we’re both dripping with sweat. I spit out my mouth guard and pull the tapes off from around my gloves with my teeth.
“Will you miss it?” I ask as we head to the locker room to shower and change.
He rolls his shoulders, joints popping. “A little, but I’ve got this place.”
“I’m going to miss my cut.” While Hunter fights in legal MMA bouts, I act as his manager, making sure he doesn’t get screwed out of his winnings and that his popularity doesn’t ebb. Or I should say I am his former manager since he’s quitting for good next month.
“Like you need the money.”
“True. But earning it is better than inheriting a trust fund.”
“That’s what all trust fund kids say.”
I know he means it good-naturedly, but it chafes. Fuck, it chafes so hard that I feel raw inside and out. “I worked damn hard to get where I am today. No amount of money made me fire captain.”
Hunter stops in the middle of the hallway, an incredulous look on his face. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I don’t like your insinuation that I didn’t earn my fucking job.”
“I didn’t insinuate anything. Lighten up, man.”
I shove at him. “You lighten the fuck up.”
Hunter steps to me. While he’s not as tall, he is wider in the shoulders and can hit an opponent so hard that the tooth fairy has to make emergency visits to grown men. “Whatever’s gotten into you needs to get the hell out. We’re being watched.”
I glance over my shoulder. Sure enough, two dudes with cellphones in their hands are quietly talking while they look our way. “Had a bad night.”
He lightly punches me in the arm and grins big, as if we were doing what men do. Which is act like teenage boys when we’re pissed off. “The senator.”
“Yeah…my reprieve from a life of politics is quickly coming to a close.”
We go inside the locker room, but instead of hitting the showers, we sit on benches made out of environmentally sustainable bamboo. While our gym is hard core about working out, the owners are equally hard core about taking care of the environment.
“What do you mean?” he asks quietly.
“The senator gave me a year to get my shit together before I embrace my destiny and become just like him.”
Hunter cuts his eyes to me. “Look, I know you’re not down with the family business, but your dad’s not a bad guy.”
“Your definition of not a bad guy is highly subjective,” I counter.
“While you’re prejudicial as hell.”
“Point taken.” I lean forward, not really staring at the lockers in front of us. “I don’t want to give up my life for the life he wants for me. I’ve made a life, made a career, and it’s not good enough.”
“Have you told him that?”
“What do you think?”
Hunter rubs his hand across his square jaw. “I think you tell him what he wants to hear while you also tell him what you want. The message is mixed. If there’s one thing a politician knows is how to be clear…double-talking when need be.”
“I told him I’d consider running after the year was up.”
“Consider?”
“He forced my hand. Made an announcement at a fundraiser. What was I supposed to do?”
“Say no.”
“Can’t do that in public.”
“Did you do it in private?”
“It doesn’t compute with him.” Abruptly, I stand, tired of the conversation. “I need to hit the shower. One of us doesn’t have the luxury of a day off.”
“Actually, I’m working until ten tonight.”
“Not ten at night! However will you get home in the dark? It’s so scary.” I laugh wholeheartedly at the murderous look in his eyes. “You can always ride the fire truck home. I’ll even let you turn on the flashing lights.” Out of nowhere, he snaps a towel at me, hitting me right in the ass cheek. “Fuck, that hurt.”
“Sorry, thought your ass was on fire and needed to be put out.”
“That’s what’s wrong with cops these days. Always acting before actually thinking.”
Hunter takes a menacing step toward me, winding up the towel. “Come again?”
My hands fly into the air, palms facing out. The bear, a.k.a. Hunter, has been poked enough. “I’m done. I’m done.”
“Yeah, you are.”
“Thanks for listening,” I say in all seriousness.
“Any time.”
Chapter 8
Saylor
After payroll’s done and I’ve closed the shelter for the night, I meet up with Evangeline at Bohannon’s for some last-minute girl time.
Yeah…I might have lied to Hayden about already having plans, but in my defense, I was asked under erotic pressure. His kisses should be outlawed because they’re dangerous to me having a sound, rational mind around him.
Although, I don’t think any of my friends would accuse me of having a rationale for anything I do, much less a sound mind.
“It’s getting packed in here,” Evangeline says as we slide into an empty booth after placing our order at the bar.
“I think it’s getting more and more popular. Great for business. Bad for us,” I muse.
Luckily, the music is still at a low-enough volume that we can talk without being overheard. Hopefully, that won’t change.
“Hunter will be so jealous when he reads my text,” Evangeline says as we dig into a plate of loaded nachos. “Before you texted me, we’d planned on eating leftovers once he got home.”
“He’s that big a fan of nachos?”
“That, and Bohannon’s is where he and his buddies meet after work, but he doesn’t get off for another hour.”
My hand freezes halfway to my mouth. “Buddies like Hayden?”
She grins, dimples peeking out from her cheeks. “And Dwight. Sometimes they let Rollins tag along.”
I glance around the interior of the bar and then let out a sigh when there is no sign of Hayden. “I have to tell you something, but you have to promise not to tell anyone except Hunter because I know y’all are one and can’t keep a secret to save your life. But maybe consider not telling him unless he asks.”
She nods. “Sure.”
“Remember when you got married?”
Amusement dances in her blue eyes. “Vaguely.”
“Remember when Hayden was flirting with me during pictures?”
“Sorta.” Her smile gets wider. Oh, she is so loving this while I’m ready to sink into the nearest hole and hide until Alice’s rabbit shows up with a flashlight that can lead me to the next dimension.
“Remember when his mother invited everyone to Tijuana, and Hayden and I watched Yes Man together on the plane ride, and we decided that we should say yes to everything, so he asked me to marry him and I did. Then we slept together and it was amazing, but he didn’t remember me the next day while he was drinking coffee in the nude?” I take another deep breath, willing my crazily beating heart to stop pounding so hard and fast in my chest.
She blinks at me, her mouth falling open for a minute. “I missed that part. Regretfully.”
Oh de
ar Lord. She thinks I’m joking. That I’m being all Saylor-y. Maybe that’s a good thing and I should take it as a sign to just get over myself already. Move on. Find another date. Try Tinder again, except I always forget to swipe right when I like a guy.
“You really should be sad that you missed it,” I reply in true kooky fashion. “And Hayden should drink coffee in the nude more often.”
“I don’t think Hunter would like a single word you just said to me,” she teases.
“Well, I agree with him. You shouldn’t lust after my husband.”
Evangeline tilts her head to one side, giving me a look. Can she see the truth in my lies, or rather the lies in my truth? “I’ll attempt to contain myself.”
“Thank you,” I say primly, picking up my drink.
“Guess I’ll have to start now,” she says, nodding at the entrance. “Quick, grab my arms so I don’t jump him.”
I suck in a breath and start to choke, then cough. “You could have given me some warning,” I wheeze.
“Sorry. I was too busy lusting after your husband.” Her blue eyes twinkle.
“Stop saying that so loudly. Or at all.” I slide down in the booth, hoping that we won’t be spotted. “Scooch down,” I order, and she shakes her head.
“Not a chance.” She glances at Hayden, then back at me. “He’s heading this way.”
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. “If you love me, you’ll pretend that I am not here, no matter what he says.”
She lightly touches my hand. “Saylor, sit up. He’s already seen you and he looks excited.”
I groan, shielding one side of my face with my hand. “That’s because he doesn’t know me.”
“What about the two dates in one day you went on?”
“It was a date and a half or half and a date. We didn’t talk much. Barely kissed and—”
“Barely kissed, huh?”
“Fine, it was more than just barely kissed. Happy?” Narrowing my eyes to slits, I struggle not to run away.
“Extremely, but you look like you wish you had death-ray vision.”
That makes me love her as a friend even more. No one gets me like she does…except maybe Hayden.
I like the beat of your drum, his voice whispers in my mind.
“We are attracted to each other, okay? And we’re not fighting it like you and Hunter did.”
Hard to Fall Page 5