Junkyard Dog

“You can’t yell at my kids,” I say, uncrossing my arms and stepping closer. “I don’t want them learning to eat shit when they’re young. It’s in their blood to make a habit of getting stepped on. I want them to grow up expecting to be treated well.”


“This isn’t about your kids. It’s about you.”

“I know, but I can’t explain why your yelling upset me that day. It just did. You made me feel like shit, and I don’t let people treat me that way.”

Hayes blinks a few times and then something shifts in his gaze. Oh, boy, I realize, he’s turning on the charm.

Erasing the few feet between us, Hayes reaches out and caresses my messy hair. “We need a safe word. That way, when you’re feeling especially sensitive and I'm especially loud you can let me know before I end up in trouble.”

“A safe word, huh? Sounds sexy.”

Hayes smiles softly, and I realize he’s really laying on the sweet guy shtick. I might be done for if he keeps it up.

“What if I hadn’t agreed to let you come inside?” I ask. “Would you consider me your enemy? Kick me out of the house? Ruin me like you ruin your enemies?”

“Even if you did me wrong, I’d never see you as my enemy,” he whispers. “You’re the best fuck I’ve ever had. You cleaned up my office. Most importantly, you make me laugh, and people rarely make me laugh. You’re a one of a kind woman, so you’ll never be my enemy.”

Rolling my eyes, I grumble, “Asshole.”

“I want you to know,” he says ever so softly, “that I never pull this nice guy bullshit on anyone, but I’m doing it for you.”

Hayes leans down, and I notice a hint of hesitancy in his kiss. He worries I’ll cut him short. Our lips meet for a moment, maybe two, but I don’t allow the kiss to deepen. As much as I want to taste Hayes, the kids can see us if they turn around. Knowing them, they’ve been peeking since he arrived.

“I missed you,” I say, pulling away. “I really did.”

“Would you have broken down and apologized if I hadn’t?”

“Probably, but I would have lasted longer than you. I’m just made out of stronger mettle.”

“Funny,” he murmurs before following my gaze to where the twins now fully stare at us.

“We need a word for when Hayes is getting too loud,” I say, focusing them on something besides Mom and a man kissing in the kitchen. “What’s a good word to use?”

Chipper looks at his sister who is staring at Hayes. “How about Doritos?”

Cricket grins and focuses on her brother. “Yeah, Doritos.”

I walk into the living room and grin. “Okay, Doritos, it is.”

“Inside joke?” Hayes asks, seeming awkward, which isn’t a good look on him. The man should reek of bravado, but he’s feeling out of place.

“What do you get when you mix a potato with a tomato?” I ask, and the kids snicker.

“I don’t know.”

“Doritos,” the twins announce.

“I don’t get it.”

“It’s a joke they came up with.”

Hayes opens his mouth, and I suspect he plans to poop on their parade. Fortunately, his brain works faster than his mouth.

“Funny,” he says instead.

“Are you staying here?” Cricket asks Hayes.

“I don’t know.”

“You can sleep in my bed,” Chipper offers.

“Yeah, and we’ll sleep with Mom,” Cricket adds because Hayes isn’t the only one who likes to poop on people’s parades.

I caress Hayes's shoulder. “He’s too big for your bed, but that was a nice offer.”

“Maybe I should go,” Hayes says without making any effort to sell his words.

“Or you could stay the night.”

“Grownups have sleepovers?” Cricket asks like a smartass.

Narrowing my eyes at my daughter, I grumble, “Finish watching your show so you can get ready for bed.”

Chipper and Cricket turn around, but I hear them whispering to each other. Hayes joins me in the kitchen where I set out the rules.

“No sex.”

“Ever? I don’t think I can agree to that.”

Grinning, I glance at the kids. “I think I’ve done a good job raising them to be emotionally healthy. I don’t want them hearing anything and being horribly traumatized.”

“You do get very loud sometimes. Not that I blame you.”

“You growl like a fucking bear. They’ll think I’m under attack.”

Hayes grins. “I’m putting that role-playing idea aside for later. So should I stay or not?”

“Can you stay without having sex?”

“Of course, I’m perfectly in control of myself. You’re the one who insists on coming repeatedly.”

Studying him, I whisper, “This would be the first night we’ve spent together.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Said the guy who brought me flowers and apologized and nearly begged for a second chance.”

Hayes shrugs. “You remember that any way you need to, babe.”