Candy blinks rapidly as if trying to focus. “Spill it.”
“I talked to your douche-in-law, and his pants remained dry. I want you to understand how the next time there’s a problem, Mayer is dead meat. It’s not about you or your sister or some magical potion to break an age-old curse or whatever crazy shit you have in your pretty head. It’s about me and my reputation. I didn’t scare the shit out of this town for nearly two decades, so I could piss it away for a chick.”
Candy studies me. “Now you say you didn’t make him piss himself, but he was scared, right? I mean, I didn’t want you playing nice with him.”
“Did you hear me?”
“You know I did. The kids even heard you through the door. You’re very loud, boss.”
Smiling, I kiss her quickly. My body wants more. Fuck, it does! I want every inch of her. My dick is begging for me to tag it in, but I remain in charge. Life is about more than physical relief. It’s about power, respect, and making my enemies shit their pants. I refuse to allow Candy, and my dick, to distract me.
SEVENTEEN - CANDY
The school principal asks to speak to me when I pick up the twins. I assume Cricket’s temper got the best of her. If the blowout happened during recess, Chipper would back her up, and they’d kick kids in the balls. It’s the only move I’ve ever taught them.
Arriving at school, I’m prepared to fake concern about a schoolyard brawl. When I was growing up, kids fought all the time and called each other names. No one cared. Acting like fools toughened us up. The only thing considered bullying was when a douche stole a kid’s lunch money. Enough of us ganged up on him, and he learned to keep his hands to himself.
These days, kids need to be sensitive and care about others. Not even fake-caring either, but they’re actually expected to worry about everyone’s every feeling. Children basically have to behave as no adult has behaved ever.
Hayes didn’t get where he was in life by being nice to anyone. He was an asshole, but he was the asshole in charge. Not the guy who cared and hugged everyone. No, Hayes was the mean guy who took what he wanted.
I’ll be happy if the twins become as pushy as Hayes without going fully scary mutherfucker like him. A mom needs to dream, and that was mine.
The principal is a high maintenance lady with perfect hair and flawless makeup. I don’t know how she keeps her shit in gear after a day dealing with snot machines.
“I wanted to let you know that after discussing placement with the district psychologist, we feel Cricket and Chipper should share a class. We’ll move Cricket tomorrow into Mrs. Dover’s class unless you have any qualms.”
“No, that sounds great.”
Principal Lady gives me a curt nod, giving away how a discussion with a shrink didn’t change the twins’ placement. Instead, a big scary man was the reason. Yeah, a big scary man who kisses great and whispers louder than some people talk.
Hayes is the kids’ hero and not only because he pulled strings for them to share a class. They know he also scared Douche, and that’s why Aunt Honey and the cousins leave our house. While their grandparents’ money bought access, the Eddisons couldn’t intimidate anyone the way Hayes did.
As soon as their homework is finished, the twins begin working on thank you cards. I sit at the kitchen table and watch them meticulously draw pictures. Every inch of the papers is lovingly covered with crayon and even glitter.
The next morning when I drop them off at school, they make me swear I’ll give Hayes their cards. I smile all the way to the office. My kids are happier than they’ve been since we moved to White Horse, and much of their joy is thanks to my sexy boss.
I hurry into the office and find Hayes sitting at his desk. He looks at me as if I’m a stranger. I’m accustomed to his morning grumpy reaction.
“You called the school and got Cricket moved,” I say, taking in the sight of his handsome features.
“I know.”
“That was sweet.”
“It wasn’t personal. I just don’t like public schools. Mine was awful. I didn’t learn shit there. My mom’s the one who taught me everything.”
“You’re so damn adorable when you go mama’s boy,” I say, stepping closer.
“What’s in your hand? I don’t want more work.”
“The kids made you thank you cards,” I say, handing him the papers.
Hayes looks at the drawings the twins put so much effort into and then frowns at me. “What the hell am I supposed to do with these?”
“Hang them on your fridge with all the other thank you cards you get,” I mutter, losing my smile.
Hayes gives me a dirty look. “Don’t be so sensitive.”
“You did something nice. My kids think you’re awesome. They worked hard on their cards. Don’t be such an asshole.”
“They’re not here so what does it matter? I’ll act really impressed by their crayon crap where they’re around.”