“Unfortunately, I can find no reason to keep him in my care,” Nora replies before she leaves.
“Let’s go, Romeo.” Hayden helps me to my feet to be on the safe side and we head for the exit. When we get to the public area of the building, he lets go of me. Can’t look like I need help in front of the fans. Appearance is everything.
They chant my name and I wave while trying to lengthen my stride so we can get out of here faster. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the support, but the older I get, the less I want the attention. Give me my share of the purse and I’m set.
Basically, once I’m done, all I want to do is Netflix and chill. For me, that means a cold beer, my foster dog Jake at my side, and propping my feet up on the sofa for the next twelve hours while I binge-watch The Leftovers.
On the ride home, Hayden drives and I check my email. The first one that pops up is from Forrestville Animal Shelter, informing me that they have found a forever family for Jake.
“Shit.” I want my dog to be happy, but I also want him with me. Except my hours are nowhere near what would be acceptable for a single guy to have and take care of a pet—full-time, at least.
“What’s wrong?”
“Forever family for Jake.”
“Maybe they’ll change their mind like the last family and you can keep him longer.”
His comment is exactly why we’re friends. He gets me. “Yeah, but that’s not exactly fair to Jake.”
“Jake is well taken care of,” Hayden points out.
“My hours are—”
“And you work with that. Stop beating yourself up. You’re a good foster…dad.” I can hear the smile in his voice.
“Does that make you his foster uncle?” I glance at him.
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“You have plans for tonight? Arranged courtships?” Hayden’s parents had been putting pressure on him to settle down before his father’s next campaign starts. Something he shared with me after he’d gotten drunk off his ass one night. Usually, the man was pure calm, pure control, but that had set him off.
“The usual.”
Which meant he was going to King’s. “Why don’t you try another place?”
“Because my dad hates the fact that I meet women there. He says it’s demeaning.”
“To you?”
“No, to the women who work there, while at the same time he insists that it’s beneath me. Our family connections should land me someone with a last name like Bush, Clinton, or Obama. Kennedy, even. He doesn’t give a damn as long as they have political clout.”
“That’s logical.”
“That’s Senator Walker.”
“I think you should be the one to go in the cage next time. Work off all that frustration.”
“And mess up this pretty face? I’ll pass.” Hayden slices his gaze my way. “Besides, I have more pleasurable ways to work off my frustrations.”
“You feeling okay?” Normally, Hayden doesn’t share shit about what or who he does. He’s so discreet that if I hadn’t walked in on him at home with a woman he’d met at King’s, I’d think he was a damn monk. Either way, I hauled ass as soon as I got a shot of her bare ass bouncing on his lap.
I’m not a prude, but I also don’t need to see my buddy’s O-face, either. There are some things that can’t be unseen, and I’d rather not have that one on the list.
“Yeah…more pressure from the senator, is all,” he replies tightly before pulling into the parking lot of Rose Haven.
Opening the door, I get out of his Escalade. “Let me know if I can do anything.”
He eyes me for a second, before grinning. “You could agree to marry me—be my fake fiancée.”
“Your face isn’t that pretty.” Shutting the door, I head inside the building.
Chapter 4
Evangeline
The only thing more terrifying than the cop next door is making female friends. Ironic, given that in high school I was voted the friendliest girl at Holland Springs High. Before my marriage to Penn, I loved making friends, loved having friends, and loved being the center of attention.
All right, so I’ll admit it—I used to be somewhat prideful about my popularity—but I swear that I used my powers only for good. However, the heady rush of being the girl everyone wanted to be, everyone wanted to know, and all the guys wanted to date was one of the best feelings ever.
Penn made sure to disabuse me of that notion. Once he’d gotten rid of my “slutty” friends, he managed to convince me that no one wanted to be my friend, that all my new friends were due to his power, his rank…his everything. I was nothing, less than nothing. Nothing more than an empty vessel to be filled by his wishes and wants and needs. I existed only for him.
Later, when he started hitting me more frequently, I barely existed at all. I hated being the center of his attention, hated being the only woman he wanted—after he got tired of his whore of the night.
Most of all, I hated how long I stayed.