“Yes.”
I look back at the house shrinking into the distance. “You must have ducked a lot.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Can we listen to music then?” I ask, already reaching for the radio buttons.
Hayes says nothing while I flip around until finding a song from George Strait.
After finishing at one construction site, we return to the truck.
“I’ll keep an eye out on your dad,” I promise.
“I know. You’re good at your job.”
“You’re acting weird.”
“He’s getting old, and he’ll die one day, and that makes me sad.”
“Wait, so this is what you’re like when emotional? Huh, it’s similar to a sad robot, I guess.”
“Don’t make me tell you to shut up again.”
“I never actually shut up when you say that. Not sure why you waste your time.”
Hayes smiles slightly and then honks at another car full of old ladies.
“Morons,” he grumbles.
“They’re old.”
“So they shouldn’t drive. I took away my dad’s license when he got dangerous.”
“You take good care of him. It makes me respect you more to see that side of you.”
“Don’t care.”
“I bet you do. In fact, I bet my compliment made you blush on the inside.”
Rolling his eyes, Hayes asks, “How is the rental place?”
“It’s really nice. Thank you.”
“Do the kids like having their own rooms?”
“Yeah, but they still share a bed. It’s habit.”
“Weak.”
“Said the man who nearly cried while visiting his dad.”
Hayes glares at me, but his evil expression only makes me laugh. He’s so sexy when he throws a fit.
“The kids want a pet. I’m leaning toward getting a goldfish, but they’re set on a cat.”
“Goldfish?” he asks, grinning. “You’re so fucking lazy.”
“True, but pets take a lot of effort.”
“Not really.”
“You say that because someone else takes Nightmare to the vet and for walks. You’re fucking lazy too, boss.”
“Yeah, but I’m not goldfish lazy.”
“Whatever. They want a cat, and if they keep asking for long enough, I’ll take them to the shelter to find one.”
“Don’t get a shitty shelter cat.”
“Where else am I going to get a cat? Please don’t say pet store because that’s just stupid.”
“No. There’s always some family with kittens for sale for ten bucks.”
“I’d rather get a shelter cat. Adopting one from a kill shelter will feed my savior complex. I’ll feel like a humanitarian for doing nearly nothing.”
“Aiming low is why you’re a happy person.”
“Where are we going to lunch and are you paying? I’d be super happy if you let me get appetizers and dessert so that I can take home leftovers.”
“Your dreams are now too fucking low.”
“Is that a ‘yes’ with regards to you paying?”
“Yeah, I’ll pay so you can burrow away old food like a fucking squirrel.”
I smile at him and reach over to fix his flannel shirt cover. Hayes stiffens when I touch him, and my smile grows wider.
“I knew you were trouble the moment you walked into my office,” he says.
Leaning against the door, I stare out the window and think about the first day we met. I was ready for a raging beast and likely built him up too much in my head. The real Hayes disappointed. He wasn’t nearly as scary as I imagined and a hell of a lot easier on the eyes.
After seeing him with his dad in that too small house, I can’t help wondering what else Hayes hides from people.
“Stop thinking,” he grunts while pulling the truck into a steak house parking lot. “I can feel you plotting.”
“I’m not doing anything, boss.”
Hayes frowns at me, but he isn’t in a bad mood. With his nearly black eyes, he convinces people he’s always pissed. I’ve figured out how to tell the various shades of grumpy in his dark gaze.
Hayes knows the restaurant staff, and I wonder if he partially owns the place. I still don’t know just how many local businesses he has a piece of. He might trust me with his dad, but not his house or finances.
“Can we get the potato skins?” I ask while checking my phone.
“We’re not on a date.”
“Are you sure? You did open the door for me, and you’re paying. I also feel like I might be expected to put out at the end.”
Hayes closes his eyes and rubs his head. I immediately laugh at his effort to play the harried victim of my mouth.
“Whenever you wish I would shut the fuck up,” I say, grinning, “just know that’s how everyone feels when you talk.”
Hayes smiles at me. “You fucking refuse to zip your fucking mouth.”
“Why should I? If you really don’t want me to talk, I could play on my phone during lunch, but I sense you want to bond.”
“You sense that, huh?”
“You’re giving off a vibe.”
Smirking, Hayes nods. “Women are an odd bunch.”
“I’m only one woman, boss. Just the one broad. I’d think the son of an accountant would be better with numbers.”