Junkyard Dog

“And you have no masculine ones. Well, you do scratch your crotch sometimes like you have itchy balls. I like that.”


I stand at the doorway and sigh. “Those guys won’t cause problems, will they?”

“Not for me.”

“It’s sexy how they sent two guys to scare you. One just wouldn’t do.”

Hayes locks the door behind us and takes my hand. “No, it wouldn’t.”

“Would you have shot them?”

“If I had to, but if they come for me, it won’t be so obvious.”

“Being in charge is tricky shit,” I say once I’ve slid into the truck.

“It is, but those guys are harmless.”

“They didn’t look harmless.”

Hayes turns on the truck and then frowns at me. “Did you think I couldn’t take them?”

“Of course, you could. I had your back, remember?”

Grinning, he pulls out of the parking lot, and we head to the hotel where we’ll spend a few hours grunting and groaning. I can’t complain about the perks my job comes with, but the asshole bikers leave me nervous. Hayes is always so busy scaring other people that I forget how he might face enemies not so easily frightened.





THIRTY TWO - HAYES


Candy and the kids are dressed up for dinner in red shirts and dark pants. I consider teasing their matching attire but keep my mouth shut. This is a big move I'm making, and I don’t want anyone's temper shitting on what I’m trying to do.

“Where are we eating?” Candy asks, adjusting her seatbelt.

“It’s a surprise. Don’t hassle me, okay?”

Candy grins. “Are you upset we didn’t tell you to wear red?”

The twins ignore us while playing on Candy’s phone. I glance back at them before focusing on Candy.

“Leave me alone.”

She laughs and caresses my face. “I think you’ve hit your limit for family time, boss.”

“Shut up and let me drive.”

Candy leaves me alone for a few minutes while flipping through the radio channels. She’s already reset the truck pre-sets to stations she likes, and I suspect she’ll do the same in the SUV.

Sitting at a light, I study Candy. Her face is covered by her hair as she leans forward. When she sits back, Candy grins at me.

“I saw George Strait in concert before. Have you ever gone to a concert?”

“No. I don’t need morons screaming all around me.”

“I didn’t like it either. A couple was arguing on one side of me, and these girls were cry-singing on the other side. It was distracting, but George sounded great.”

My shoulders hurt, and I realize I’m so fucking tense that I’ll probably say something overtly hostile soon.

“You look beautiful,” I say, sounding grumpy.

Candy studies me, and I feel small. I never feel fucking small. I wasn’t even born small.

“I dreamed about you last night,” she murmurs, leaning toward me. “You were climbing a mountain, and I was trying to keep up, but you were going too fast, and I fell behind. Eventually, you were so far ahead that I couldn’t see you, and I realized you’d left me behind.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Probably that you’re a force of nature, and I don’t think I can keep up.”

I lean closer to her and whisper, “You mean fucking-wise, right?”

Candy sits back and laughs. “No. I’m just impressed by what you’ve built in White Horse. Take the compliment and keep your mind out of the gutter.”

Grinning now, I feel the tension easing off me. Having Candy worry about losing me helps calm my fear of losing her. I never give people power over me. Even as a kid, I kept other kids at a distance. I’ve never trusted a single damn person, but I trust this woman. She even tried to watch my back when the Rutgers twins showed up at the office.

I take her hand and enjoy the way her fingers curl around mine. She knows I’m edgy, but doesn’t fear me. Even after our blowout a week ago, Candy remains fearless in the face of my bad temper.

Fearless until I pull down the street to my house. Her expression shifts to terror, and she reaches for my arm.

“Where are we going?”

“My place,” I announce, hitting the button for the gate. “I have the chef from The Glenn coming over to cook us steaks and chicken.”

Candy stares at me in horror. “Why?”

After pulling down the drive to the garage, I turn off the SUV and glance at her. “Why not?”

When I open my door, Candy hurries herself and the kids out of the SUV. She pulls them aside and whispers in a panic. I don’t know what her problem is, but the kids peek around her so they can stare at me. How has my grand gesture turned into a horror movie where they need to plan their escape?

Candy walks to where I wait at the front of the house. She and the kids watch me with weird, steely gazes.

“What?” I ask.

“I reminded them to behave here like they would at their grandparents.”

“Why?”