Junkyard Dog

Frowning, I turn his jaw so he’ll look at me.

“Look, boss, I get how you have commitment issues, and I’m a clingy woman stepping on your giant ego. That’s fine, but don’t act cold, or I’ll act cold too. We both know you can’t handle when I’m cold to you. Last time, you nearly cried.”

Hayes smirks. “Arrogant little bitch.”

“You can insult me, but it only makes you look weak.”

“Why weak?” he asks, losing his smile.

“By devaluing me so you’ll look better in comparison, you actually make yourself look like a punk.”

“Thanks, Doctor Phil.”

Narrowing my eyes, I scoot over in the booth and pull out my phone. I ignore him for five minutes before he breaks down and dramatically sighs.

“Fine. You’re great. I’m stupid. Whatever you need to hear, I’m saying. Now put the phone away and act normal.”

Slowly, I rest my phone on the table. Hayes pats the spot next to him, and I scoot over.

“You’re weird,” I whisper.

Hayes gives me a side glance and nods. “You’re not exactly normal either.”

My hand caresses his resting on the table. “You said you feel vulnerable during sex. If that’s why you’re acting weird now, just keep something in mind. I’m your friend. I don’t want anything from you. I’m happy with the way things are now. I’m not working a con. You’re safe with me.”

Hayes frowns at my tone. I know he hates being babied. I also know he worries I can hurt him. Keeping everyone at a distance kept him safe as he took over White Horse. He relies on no one person. This gives him safety in some ways but makes him vulnerable in others.

“I don’t trust people either,” I say once our food arrives. “I don’t want to be sucked into people’s drama or feel like I owe anyone.”

“Do you trust me?”

Without thinking, I shake my head. Hayes grunts in response.

“Do you trust me?” I ask.

Hayes’s frowning face softens. “No.”

“So then we’re on the same page.”

Finally, the big grump smiles. “I guess we are.”

“Trust is overrated anyway. When you trust someone, you give them the power to fuck you over.”

Hayes cuts his steak into big pieces and then smiles again. “You’re a great broad, Candy. If this fucking thing doesn’t work out, don’t throw a fit and quit. I like having you around.”

For him, this is one hell of a compliment. He might as well say I’m the most special person ever! Hayes knows he’s gushing. His face struggles to shift into a frown, but he can’t manage it. Between the morning of sex and a good piece of meat, the guy is in heaven.

I feel pretty great too. Lust without fear is a novel idea for me. Great sex without consequences isn’t something my family ever manages. We always fell in love, usually to our disadvantage. I wonder if that’s what happened with Honey. Was Andrew great in bed and the powerful orgasms blinded her to his many, many flaws?

I glance at Hayes and feel safe. Not because he’s a nice guy. He’s most definitely a jackass, but he’s my jackass. I’ve known his flaws from day one. He’s known my boundaries all along. We work because we both suck at normal relationships. This fucking employee/employer/friends thing could totally work especially if we don’t think about it too much.





TWENTY FIVE - HAYES


Restless during the weekend, I drive around White Horse and check on my investments. People bow to me and say happy things, but I only become more agitated. I can’t even lie to myself about why I feel this way.

I want to see Candy.

Two days without her feels like a fucking eternity. I consider dropping casually by her house. We’re friends. Her kids know me. I can hang out and do whatever normal people do during the weekends.

I imagine taking them out to dinner. We can play family, and I am the average dad who happens to cuss a little too much. The twins think my foul mouth is funny. Candy does too. They understand me. I bet they won't mind at all if I drop by.

Instead, I visit my father. Seeing him won’t open a can of damn worms like going to Candy’s house would. She’ll think I’m her boyfriend when I’m not sure what the hell we are anymore.

Balthazar is in his comfy chair. Gladys the Cat sits on his lap. The TV is on as usual, and he’s watching something on the Discovery Channel. I check the kitchen to make sure it’s well stocked. His aide Lizzy Anne doesn’t work on the weekends unless it’s an emergency. She left a note on the fridge, so Balthazar knows what food she made for him to eat at each meal.